Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Sloppy Dog LiveBlog: The Brit Awards 2010

Good evening all, and Gawd bless you for joining us as we 'celebrate' the 'cream' of the British 'music' industry. Yes, it's the Brit Awards 2010, and in true Brits style, expect big expensive performances, ludicrously-selected winners, jokes as flat as Alex Reid's nose, and absolutely no hint of the supposed perennial Brits controversy the organisers are so obviously gagging for. Hit refresh for updates, and feel free to leave a comment - it's always good to know there are other people as bitter as us.

Lily Allen opens the show doing The Fear. Not a bad choice of song by any means, but her choice of attire means she looks like the child Liza Minelli and David Gest never had.

Peter Kay is tonight's host, sadly not in costume as Geraldine McQueen. That one came and went pretty quick, eh? And for the third time tonight already, the audio has been muted. Perhaps we should consider that a blessing, as here's Sam Fox - no, really. She's presenting the Most Memorable Performance Award, which goes to...


It's only Mel B and Geri, but hey, we'll take that. Bearing in mind each of them last appeared on this stage when they had the 'ump with each other, it's actually rather touching. (If you're a squeeing Spice Girls fanatic who should know better at 28.)

There's always someone worse off than you, though, as demonstrated by Mika and Calvin Harris - both inexplicably nominees for Best British Male. Thankfully, they've been pipped by Dizzee Rascal, who's not undeserving.

And so we come to the night's second performance, the gymslip-dampening behemoth that is JLS. A big epic opening complete with lasers and wires makes way for Beat Again, which is something to be pleased about - clearly someone at the label has realised this song shits all over the dreadful MN8-a-like Everybody In Love.

Aston lifts up his top during The Yellow One's solo part, thus shamelessly hijacking his thunder. Not cool. Any fule know The Yellow One is the best one. He did the 'Merry Christmas' part in Last Christmas! And it was AWFUL! And AMAZING!!

Fuck off, Fearne Cotton. Deja vu, anyone?

The next award is Best International Male, presented by Mel B. Fair enough, Victoria and Melanie C have a fair bit on, but you wonder what Emma was doing tonight that was more pressing, don't you? Anyway, the winner is Jay-Z, who thanks the Spice Girls. Perhaps ironically; the jury's still out.

Noddy Holder is up next, to present another self-congratulatory 30 Years of Brits award. Ten previous winners of Best British Album are all in the running, and let's face it, No Angel by Dido probably isn't much competition for (What's The Story?) Morning Glory.

...which, of course, nails it. Liam Gallagher is here, although his acceptance speech is muted after he thanks Alan White. Our guess is that he said "distant relative of The Sloppy Dog by marriage." TRUFAX.

Kasabian do Fire. It's rather good. There's not much else to say about it. There's no bells or whistles, apart from a wee bit of flame licking away, making it the kind of thing that would've looked great on Top of the Pops. Isn't it depressing that a solid, straightforward performance of a decent song is such a rarity these days? *dismounts soapbox*

And more Mel B! She's getting her money's worth tonight, isn't she? Mind you, she's with Fearne Cotton, which sort of cancels out any kind of awesomeness. Hell, Fearne Cotton could be flanked by Chris Lilley and Nancy Lam whilst riding Doug from Up, as the entire cast from Glee sing the back catalogue of The Boy Least Likely To, and she'd still sour proceedings.

We're back, and MORE Spice! Geri takes the opportunity to apologise for neglecting to mention Victoria, Emma and Melanie C, then lays into Kula Shaker. This is THE STUFF, ladies and gents. The nominees for Best British Newcomer are JLS, someone else, another act, and some other people. Hmmm. Who might take this one...?

Oritse from JLS underlines, apropos of nothing, that they got together 18 months prior to The X Factor. Yeah, way to claim that credibility. You can almost picture Rachel Hylton sat in her tower block living room, barking at her kids how "dat coulda been mummy" and kissing her teeth.

Peter Kay's presenting style is akin to that of Tim Lovejoy doing Something For The Weekend, namely on the verge of suicide. He introduces Courtney Love, who's here to give Ellie Goulding the Special Ellie Goulding Award, and looks like Jackie Stallone on her way to a fancy dress party as Daryl Hannah in Splash.

We've come to realise that it's entirely futile to try to liken Lady Gaga's outfit to anything else in existence. It's white and tissuey and will adorn the front page of many a scabloid in ten hours' time, and that's about it. What the jiggins is this she's singing? I'm sure Bad Romance is in there somewhere...

Nope, just the 'freak bitch' parts. This is what they call "one for the fans."

Geri tells Fuck Off Fearne that she'd have liked Gaga to sing something people knew. YES. This woman is AWESOME. Geri, we mean, not Fuck Off Fearne or Lady Gaga. All the noteworthy moments so far have come from Mel B and Geri - can't the organisers just get them to host the whole thing? Peter Kay already seems like he'd rather be at home playing solitaire in his undercrackers, and it's probably best to get Fuck Off Fearne away from all these celebrities before she combusts with raw sycophancy, so it's a win all round.

Yikes. Peter Kay's just dropped the garlic bread joke into a link. That's not a good sign, like when Ricky Gervais freezes onstage and pretends someone's heckled "DO THE DANCE!" at him, giving himself a good two minutes to get back on track. Duncan's friend from Family Affairs presents the Best British Group award, whilst also having a pop at Ashley Cole and John Terry much to the indifference of the British music industry.

The winners, Kasabian, have evidently been enjoying the hospitality, and fair play to them. Hell, we're being drip-fed from a flagon of mead as we type.

It's former host and contender for World's Hairiest Woman (no, for realz - you wanna see her up close), Cat Deeley. She says "it's good to be home". The audience reply "What, were you away...?"

The winner of Best International Breakthrough is Lady Gaga, whilst Deeley is claiming responsibility for her success by namedropping one lousy performance on So You Think You Can Dance. Let's see if Gaga thanks you in her speech, eh, Cat?

Dizzee Rascal and Florence & The Machine treat us to a duet, which is actually a duet, and not just a one-performance-followed-by-another 'duet' as exhibited by Outkast and Beyonce in 2004. They do look rather like a middle-aged art teacher doing a song with a Year 10 boy at the Christmas concert, mind.

Is Peter Kay intentionally missing his cue so he looks as though he doesn't give a shit? Still, no matter, Jonathan Ross is here to make everyone else - even Fuck Off Fearne - look like the very picture of dignity. He announces, like the utter spackfest he is, that Lady Gaga is the Best International Female.

She's crying again. Well, not so much crying as whimpering. Let's put it this way, she's no snot-waterfall Shaznay.

Best British Female is next, presented by Shirley Bassey. The nominations are a joke - if we'd had the opportunity to tamper with someone's computer up at Brits HQ, we'd be seeing a VT of Cerys Matthews, Alesha Dixon, VV Brown, Lady Sovereign, and just to really fuck with the industry's heads, Dame Vera Lynn. As it is, we're left with the likes of Leona Lewis and Pixie Lott.

Thankfully, it's Lily Allen. Is she dressed as Nicola Roberts? Seriously. Is she?!

Oh, apparently not. As the audio is dipped, we're 'treated' to a cutaway of Pixie Lott. Why is she even here? Where did she come from? What is she for? Be a dear, and fuck off.

Jay-Z and Alicia Keys perform Empire State of Mind. First one to spot Lil' Mama crashing the stage wins a bag of Jelly Belly beans. Mind you, this is the Brit Awards, so maybe we'll get her UK equivalent instead. So keep an eye out for... Verbalicious?

Fuck Off Fearne uses the term 'brap' whilst speaking to Jonathan Ross, who's pretending to be black. This is one burning cross short of a black-and-white minstrel routine.

Notorious heterosexual Mika does some sort of pre-emptive arse-kissing in case his favourite nominee for Best International Album wins the prize. But he doesn't actually say who it is, which sort of defeats the purpose. Fucking windowlicker.

And Lady Gaga makes it three for three. The more time she spends behind that podium, the more it looks as though the tears are coming from miniscule pipes hidden beneath the lace headdress.

Aw, lookit, it's the Nation's Sweetheart! The apparent delay in audio makes it look as though all the acts are miming tonight, although Cheryl Cole's is perhaps the first performance where that's probably a blessing.

Eh? A session singer bellowing acapella - which in itself is a colossal mistake, as it only highlights the reedy vocals of the main attraction - prompts a segue into Show Me Love. It's got a fun event vibe, if a tad weird.

Best British Single is unveiled by Alan Carr. Seriously, what must overseas audiences think of British comedic talent if this show is sold abroad? There's a few good choices in this category - Breathe Slow, Bad Boys, The Fear, Beat Again. And also some fucking horrible choices - Mama Do, Break Your Heart, and worst of all, The Climb.

The sarky voiceover lady says JLS are a controversial win. What's controversial about the most popular boyband this country has seen in decades winning the public vote for a rather brilliant pop song? Silly cow.

Tom Ford introduces Best British Album, which is Lungs by Florence & The Machine. She's gracious in her triumph, even if she is sporting a chronic breakout of oldface. Also, she seems to be buddies with Fucking Grimmeh off Radio 1, who's fast becoming the male Fuck Off Fearne.

And speaking of Fuck Off Fearne, she's doing her damndest to fellate all four members of JLS simultaneously, and also threatening us with the promise of Robbie Williams. If that's not a reason to flip over to Survivors, then what is? She's looking rather pasty, is Fuck Off Fearne. Maybe she was moved by Nicola Roberts' hard-hitting documentary about tanning? It's nice to think wee 'Cola has touched the heart of at least one person tonight, if not Lily Allen.

According to Peter Kay, there's no better recipient for the Outstanding Contribution award than Robbie Williams. Except for maybe Take That themselves? Or how about The Beatles, who've still not been given this? Hell, if we were to list every artist more deserving of Outstanding Contribution than Robbie Williams, we'd be here til the cleaners were rounding up the empties. At next year's event.

Let Me Entertain You sounds every bit as shit as it did in 1998. Thankfully, here's Feel, by far and away the best thing this irrelevant titwank of a human being has ever put his name to.

And here's Olly Murs! Holding up a massive cue card with the lyrics printed on!

Not really. :o(

A few more to chuck into the medley: that one that sampled I Will Survive, and that one that mentions razorblades. And another song which we can only assume was the B-side to the 7" of South of the Border, followed by that one that's on the radio sometimes.

You know when you've got a really sick relative, and they're constantly deteriorating, and you're constantly on edge because at any moment that dreaded phonecall could come, telling you exactly what you don't want to hear? That's sort of what we're feeling right this minute, knowing Rock DJ could appear at any moment.

Phew. It's Angels. Surely this is the climax? Are we out of the woods...?

And we're done! What a relief. Admittedly, it's not the worst Brit Awards of recent years, perhaps due to the Spice-heavy first half, as well as a few decent performances. And we're not too riled up about any particular artist being robbed of an award, but that's mainly because most artists we'd give a rat's ass about weren't even nominated in the first place. Still, it's been fun. Thank you for joining us - see you next year?
Creative Commons Licence
The Sloppy Dog by www.thesloppydog.co.uk is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.