The problem with the X-Factor is not really for music lovers; it's for the poor winners of the thing.
The show comes in for a lot of (justified) criticism for its freakish route to apparent stardom for the contestants. The people that sing do not, say the critics, do their music apprenticeship. They don't play the pubs and clubs - they don't "put in the miles" as do bands who trudge round the circuit, plying their trade. These are the bands who really can play their own instruments and actually add something to the world of music by creating something new.
Who was the last X-Factor winner who wrote his (her) own song?
But the music industry will plough on, creatively, in spite of Simon Cowell's one-man marketing show. The fact is that the X-Factor adds little to the music industry, and takes little away (except the chance of someone else being Christmas number one (2009 being a notable exception when Killing In The Name by Rage Against The Machine enabled people to rage against the machine!), and who really cares who's number one in the singles chart any more?).
The problem with the X-Factor is the hopes and dreams it creates for thousands of would-be singers. Except that many of them are not would-be singers; they're would-be celebrities. "I wanna be famous," they shout, with arms crossed in X style, "a star on the screen." [Drive My Car - Beatles]
And the hopes are usually dashed. It is because we can all name Leona Lewis that makes her the exception. Where now for the original winner (2004) Steve Brookstein? Turning on the Christmas lights in Woking, dressed in his donkey jacket, followed by a tour of Caffe Nero - that's where. Shayne Ward (2005)? Three albums, each one sinking lower than the last. Leon Jackson (2007)? Dropped from hsi record label within three months.
The trouble is that the X-Factor is like a Christmas present. Unwrapped, marvelled at for a few moments, and then tossed aside as we open the next one.
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