Disco Bull

Here we are in a post-mutto world. I must say, it’s pretty darn outstanding.

Although I’m starting to think that Courtney Murphy’s brother is potentially an even larger tool, what with all the prancing around and persistent air guitar. I wish the freakishly muscley guitarist in the Idol band would show Murphy what real guitar feels like, all over his smug face.

My threshold test for a successful ‘disco’ theme night is if we can get out of this without anyone singing “I will survive”. Happy to see 8 Donna Summer performance though. We shall see.

Looks like we’re in for another massive Marcia Hines promotion. Unfortunately for Marcia, the historical footage package of her origins in the ‘70s only goes to make obvious the copious amounts of plastic surgery she’s had. Disappearing nose anyone?

Half of Courtney Murphy’s brother’s intro package was about how sick the poor tiddums has been this week, which all just seems like major spade work on the part of the producers to keep this twit in the show – “please vote for me even though I’m going to suck.”

And he doth bring the suckiness people, squeaking out a flaccid performance of Play that funky music. Even the cat’s looking a little nauseous after this tripe.

He just IS David Brent, this man. He even has the mega-shiney forehead thing going on.

I just don’t want to talk about him anymore.

On to Lavina, who is clearly the most talented singer in the competition, with Best of my love. Unfortunately, I don’t think Lavina’s picked the best of the Network Ten wardrobe, with a dress that’s dangerously close to her skin tone (not good on the wide shots).

The performance is just one long shouty glory note though. A shame really, I am still desperately trying to find someone to like this year and Lavina was almost that person.

And then Ricky Muscat ‘sang’ Get down on it, all there was great meh-ing across the land. For a moment I thought he was doing ok, and then I realised he’d stopped singing and all I could hear was the background singers. Way to suck the fun out of disco, Ricky. This isn’t just Young-Talent-Time-bad, this is high-school-talent-quest bad.

If you missed the show and you want to know what it was like, stand in front of a mirror and in a monotone voice say “get down on it” for two minutes, whilst shuffling from one foot to another and occasionally waggling your hands up and down. Perfect.
Damien Leith’s pre-performance package is another “aw, I’m so sick and can’t sing proper” whinge. But anyway, onto to the talking point for the evening - I wish I were a talented writer, because it is very hard for an amateur such as myself to describe just how ridiculous and fearfully shocking this odd circus of a performance was.

Singing Celebrate, Damien has erred terribly here and the question for the judges now is whether to acknowledge that there was never any chance of Damien singing disco well, or whether to just carpet him for what was, honestly, Daniel Belle-esque. With that falsetto voice of his, couldn’t Damien have chosen some Bee Gees?

Carpetting it is. Kyle’s “worst thing I’ve ever seen on television” was pretty harsh. Did he never see ‘Yasmin’s getting married”? Boom tish!

Half way through the show, who brought the oranges?

Now, who is policing whether the Idols’ song choices are within the theme, because I have my doubts about whether Blondie’s Heart of glass counts as ‘disco’. In any case, I think Deborah Harry is right now somewhere slashing her wrists so she can die and be buried and then roll over in her grave in response to Lisa’s teenification of the song.

Yes, this was a pretty pants performance. But seriously, does Mark Holden really expect her to go from 16 year-old Missy-Higgins-wannabe to disco diva in one week?


I expect Dean couldn’t-be-Gayer has had a tough week what with having to look outside Triple M’s play list for song choice.

So anyway, Turn the beat around people! Dean commands you!

So, a white, Christian, South African singing disco. Yes, television has reached perfection. There is nothing left to say or do. Except – a back flip.

Yes, Dean completes his performance with a back flip. Next week, Dean will swallow knives, um, balance balls on his nose, er, um, do something with no connotations at all I’m sure.

Bobby Flynn sings ‘Superfreak’ and I’m sure all sorts of jokes could be made there, and no doubt will be. But not by me. I’m just too bored. BORED. Some points to Bobby though for at least thinking about his song and doing something to it so it would suit his voice. Which would seem like the obvious thing to do, Damien Leith.

Oh dear, whilst I was typing this I got distracted by the cat eating on the power cord and didn’t notice Bobby getting a touch down. Standards are that low this year?

You know what would have been a good song choice? Abba’s Man after Midnight – what with it recently being on the radio (woah-oh-oh-oh) sampled on Madonna’s ‘Hung Up’. Too easy.

Jessica Mauboy – thank you! You have made my pre-show wish come true with some sweet sweet Donna Summer. In the words of Summer Wheatley – “Vote for Summer!”

You know, I was thinking the other day, I honestly can’t say who I think will win this year. I don’t even know who I want to win. Such a disappointment.