Thumbs down to the Brits

I watched the Brits last night. They were not good. Some thoughts:

1. It was hosted by a young Paul Shane and someone from a Showaddywaddy tribute band, both of whom went to great lengths to avoid anything resembling humour. Oh, and Kylie, going through the motions (did you know this is the 47th Brits she’s attended? Yeah, you’d look bored too).

2. Take That descending from the ceiling to mime whilst dress as Joe 90 clones was just a bit weird.

3. This year’s Craaazy Unexpected Pairing was … are you ready for this? … just a lot of old noise. The Ting Tings and and a creepy marionete version of Estelle sang over each other’s songs in a bid to eek out another few minutes of popularity. It’s not exactly PJ Harvey and Bjork covering the Rolling Stones now is it?

4. Actually, it was quite fun trying to work out which acts are going to have vanished off the face of the earth in a year’s time. “Most” was the correct answer.

5. Kanye West rambling on about what the word “best” means was quite funny. He’s really quite geeky, isn’t he?

6. Scouting For Girls? Scouting For Girls? Why?

7.
The Pet Shop Boys were amazing. As were Iron Maiden. Didn’t they have sensible shoes?

8. Exactly who decides who won what is becoming increasingly elaborate and pointless: “And now for the Best Welsh Solo Artist Award, as voted for by the people of Bexleyheath. By text message. On Tuesday afternoon.”

9a. In order to show up the two pathetic little boys on stage, we can only hope and pray that there was some kind of über-manly Tom Jones/David Hasselhoff spat backstage. Probably over the virtue of Pet Shop Boys’ Barbie-singer-lady. Dr B suggested that an even more amazing sight would be a Jones/Hoff thumb-war …

9b. … which gives me an idea. Rather then spending oodles of cash on one bloated embarrassing night that in no way reflects the fact that the music industry is actually a bit different now to how it was ten years ago, ITV should produce Pro-Celebrity Thumbwars. Just five minutes, once a week, and the whole thing scored by an exclusive song by the most zeitgeisty act of the moment. The competitors would be announced just a day in advance, pairings like Henry Winkler versus Seal; Lars von Trier versus Richard Roundtree; Angela Lansbury versus Craig Charles. This has the potential to be so very amazing that it might even herald in a new age of peace and enlightenment.

10. If nothing else proves that the Brits are completely out of touch and redundant, then consider this: Girls Aloud won a Brit. One. Their first one ever. In six years. How bloody ridiculous.