It's sentimental, I know

So, Killing in the Name is number one in the Christmas charts, and we all thought it was just a race between that and poor little geordie Joe's tune about climbing. It's only now that I've discovered a song that was also released in time for the Christmas charts, and is more deserving of the number one slot than both of them put together.

I'm not normally a fan of Tim Minchin, but White Wine in the Sun is everything I've ever wanted from a Christmas song. It's funny, it's beautiful, it's melodic, it's emotional and it name-checks Richard Dawkins. Perfect.



It's still available on iTunes, and half the profits are going straight to autism research. Now, isn't that a bit more Christmassy than all the Rage Against shouting and swearing? (Yes).

Over-use of "lovely" alert

Terribly sorry if yesterday's post gave you nightmares. Let's try a couple of lovely heartwarming scenes instead - firstly, the ice dance from my third-favourite Christmas film ever, Edward Scissorhands.



And secondly, a lovely touching moment from my second-favourite Christmas film ever, Gremlins. (Unfortunately I can't embed the YouTubery on this one, so you'll have to click here).

There, that's better. Lovely.

"When a star falls, a heart stops beating", fa la la la la, la la la laaaaa

As the blizzards ravage a festive Plymouth (well, some snow came down a while ago), I am reminded of the story of the Little Match Girl. I used to think that Christmas was all about happiness, family and presents - I was wrong. According to the story of the Little Match Girl, the Christmas season is about a small homeless girl trying to keep warm on the streets, until eventually she becomes so cold that she starts hallucinating and then... well, I'm not really sure what happens - I can never hear it for all the choking and wailing.

The harrowing tale is read here by Kylie Minogue. Yes, Kylie Minogue.



And if you're wondering whether Disney ever made a more child-friendly version, perhaps involving a talking match and a happy ending, your answer is a very firm NOT ON YOUR NELLY.



There, that got you in the Christmas mood, didn't it? DIDN'T IT?!?!! *Throws mince pie at wall*

Ten... pygmies farming

You know how I said yesterday that people sing 'five gold rings' with the kind of gusto normally reserved for Sonia's lines in 'Do they know it's Christmas?' (no need to check yesterday's post - that's exactly what I said, give or take).

Well, for my second daily Thing of Christmas, I hereby present Eddie Izzard singing at you.



Here's hoping I can link all of these posts together in the same seamless and professional way.

The clanging chimes of doom

Would you like a small portion of Christmas loveliness every day between now and Christmas Eve? Would you? Of course you would. Here goes...



First up, the 1989 version of 'Do they know it's Christmas?' - the Stock, Aitken and Waterman one. I love this because it's so frighteningly inappropriate. And because it's got Kylie in it.

My top five things about this version are:

5. Jimmy Somerville bopping his way through his first line.

4. The footage of starving Africans intercut with grinning popstars. If there was ever a perfect excuse to use the word 'juxtaposition', this was it.

3. Michael Buerk's Jedward-style spoken interlude. They missed a trick here: he should have rapped it.

2. A member of Bros (name unknown) delivering the famous Bono line "well tonight thank God it's them instead of yoo-oo-ouu, na na... yeah."

1. Lovely beaming ginger scouse pop personality, Sonia, belting out her lines with the kind of gusto normally reserved for "five gold rings". I can imagine the conversation Sonia had with Pete Waterman before recording this song.

Pete: "Would you like to be involved with a cover of the famous Band Aid classic from a few years ago, love?"

Sonia (beaming): "What's that then?"

Pete: "You know - Do They Know It's Christmas?"

Sonia (beaming): "You what, like?"

Pete: "Bob Geldof and Midge Ure wrote it. It's about famine."

Sonia (beaming): "It sounds a bit serious. What words do I have to sing?"

Pete: "You have to sing 'The greatest gift they'll get this year is life.'"

Sonia (beaming): "Aw, that's nice - it's about presents! I'll do it!"

An appeal on behalf of Olly Murs

There was no point in writing about last week's X Factor because (a) I've said it all before, and (b) the most interesting thing that happened was Rihanna appearing on a pre-watershed ITV1 programme to sing about shooting herself in the head. We all know how I feel about that song, so I'm going to leave well alone.

Unfortunately, this week there really is something that needs saying, and it's not good. I have a terrible feeling that this will be the week we say goodbye to the lovely Olly Murs.

I'm choking up just writing about it.

I don't know what's made me fear tonight's results show in the same way Jamie Archer fears a trip to the hairdresser. Perhaps it's because Olly was the first to perform this week and, sadly, the others will be more fresh in viewers' minds when they vote.

Perhaps it's because, for the first time ever, even I rated a Danyl performance as "acceptable" (Man In The Mirror, not the other one).

Perhaps it's because everyone on the Xtra Factor seems to think he's on his way home.

Or perhaps it's because he's a retro performer on a show where We Can Work It Out is considered "not a very well-known song" (cheers Louis).

I realise you might be a fan of one of the other ones (you know... Joe, whatsisface, and whatserface), but I beg you, if you have a telephone and a finger, please vote for Olly tonight. And here's why:









Oh bloody hell, I'm going to be watching all that when they show his "best bits", aren't I? Argh.

Please don't allow this to happen. The number is 0901 61 61 101, and it's 35p from a BT line.

Will you SHUT UP about Lady Gaga?

No I will not.



The problem with Lady Gaga (not that there is a problem, but if you thought there was a problem then it would be this) is (potentially) that she's so bonkers, her bonkersness is all people talk about. You mention Gaga and everyone goes "yes did you see the Kermit The Frog outfit?", or "that shoulder pads thing makes her look like a comedy hunchback", or "I hear she has a penis."

And then she does a performance like the one above, and you remember that she's actually an incredibly talented musician and singer. SO THERE.

Friday reading matter

Bored at work? Can't think of anything to occupy your Friday? Lucky you. Here's some stuff you can read.

1. If you enjoy being outraged by things in the Daily Mail, read this article by Sue Reid, 'Mapping out the strain on your NHS'. Racism in the Daily Mail almost goes without saying, but it's rarely quite this blatant and self-contradictory. Mailwatch has written a lovely response to this "news story", set out as a letter to Daily Mail readers.

2. If you enjoy reading about popstars making rash decisions for publicity, read this story about Robbie Williams proposing to his girlfriend on a live radio show.

3. And if you enjoy arguing about spurious top ten lists, here's Heat magazine's top ten "weird crushes" 2009. I can understand why Jeremy Clarkson is considered a strange person to have a crush on, but Derren Brown, Richard Hammond, David Mitchell and Michael McIntyre? What's so weird about them?! And as for Russell Howard... well, I'm sure it must be a misprint.

A few of my favourite things. 2: British cops

The second thing I'm thankful for, on this special day for the yanks, is... well... not living in America. I know there are some Americans who read this blog, and I'm very sorry to have to bring this up, but in Britain our cops don't generally go around tasering small children.

Yes, according to this article, and Arkansas police officer is currently being investigated for tasering a 10-year-old girl for refusing to go to bed.

I know it's a rare occurrence and the cop in question is being investigated, but even if you ignore the issue of tasering the poor kid, the fact remains that a police officer was called out to a house because a small girl refused to go to bed. That wouldn't happen here, as far as I know.

Every now and then, the British police release a list of bizarre 999 calls, to illustrate the kinds of things officers will not waste their time over: for instance, when people call to report their boyfriend for not letting them watch EastEnders. (I'm not kidding). I'm sure "my daughter won't go to bed" is the kind of emergency that would be on one of these lists.

But the officer in Arkansas didn't just rush straight to the mother's aid (as if that wasn't bad enough): he restrained the little girl, tried to handcuff her, then tasered her and carried her limp body to his car. The cop hasn't even been disciplined for this.

Makes you grateful for the baton-wielding maniacs we have in Britain, doesn't it? At least they send out Christmas cards.

A few of my favourite things. 1: Dragonette

As you may or may not know, today is Thanksgiving in Americaland. I quite like the idea of Thanksgiving, for two reasons:

1. It is based on an actual anniversary of something happening (it is, isn't it? Correct me if I'm wrong), as opposed to Christmas being some interchangeable Pagan / Christian middle-of-winter hooplah.

2. It encourages people to be thankful for stuff. Which is really quite touching and pleasant.

In honour of the yanks and their special day, I've decided to do a short series of blog posts about things I am currently thankful for.

NUMBER ONE THING: I am thankful for this song, True Believer by Dragonette, which is my current favourite song in the universe.



In case you're not familiar with them, Dragonette are a Canadian band who released their debut album, Galore, in 2007. You might have noticed it on my 'top 10 albums of the decade' list. They sound a bit like the Scissor Sisters would sound if they could just camp things up a bit, take themselves less seriously and sing about sex a bit more. They also sometimes sound like Lady Gaga, but not so much on the song above. Enjoy.

Howard Donald: Celeb in pain, world looks other way

In November 2005, Take That: For The Record was shown on ITV, to a UK audience of six million. It was a pretty good documentary about the boys, their time in the group, and what they'd been doing since the split in 1996. When the papers mentioned it, all they could write about was whether it would reunite the whole group - would Robbie turn up? Would he and Gary forgive and forget? Blah blah blah. They all but ignored the instance where one of the lads had confessed to feeling suicidal.

When the group split up, the Samaritans had to set up a special helpline for distressed fans. It was all about the fans - how would they cope? Many of them were girls in their early teens, and this was the first heartbreak they'd have to endure - poor them - but did anyone stop to wonder how Howard Donald was coping? Of course they didn't - he had fame and money, and no one with fame and money ever feels like their world is crashing in around them.

In the documentary, Howard says, "I already knew that the group was gonna finish, and um, I decided to walk out of the hotel and go to the Thames... I've never told anybody about this, I was seriously thinking of jumping in the Thames, thinking I wanted to kill myself. But I'm just too much of a shitbag to do it."

It's hardly surprising when you think about it. When he auditioned for Take That, Howard was re-spraying cars for a living. Dancing was his talent, and he landed on his feet when manager Nigel Martin-Smith took a liking to him and put him in the band. Suddenly, he was working with a group of best mates, travelling the world, earning more than he could ever have dreamed of, and there were adoring women everywhere he went. Then one day, before he'd grown tired of it, someone suggested it should all end. Everyone agreed but Howard, and he was powerless to change their minds.

It's the nature of celebrity, I suppose: some celebs are confident and comfortable with whatever ability they have and, rightly or wrongly, they feel like being famous is somehow their calling. Others, like Howard, can't believe their luck and spend every day worrying that the rug will be pulled from under their feet, they'll suddenly be a pathetic boyband has-been and nobody will love them any more.

The Smash Hits Take That tribute edition (out now in all good newsagents) illustrates this perfectly. It reprints some of the old interviews from the group's heyday, and the signs were all there.

Smash Hits: Is today a rehearsal for tomorrow?
Howard: [Emphatically] No it's not... I don't really know what I'm going to be next, to be honest. I've had such a good life - it might be my turn for something horrible after this.

Smash Hits: Is it really you that you see reflected in the mirror?
Howard: Yeah. But you can look at yourself and think, "Why me? Why am I this big in this group?" I can't believe it sometimes that the "me" in the mirror is Take That's Howard.
[Smash Hits being Smash Hits, of course, then moves on to a question about sausage rolls].

Smash Hits: Do you ever stop and wonder at how famous you are?
Howard: Oh yeah, all the time.

Smash Hits: Are you in love?
Howard: No, I'm in love with Take That and what I'm doing... I love the other members of the band. If one of them got hurt tomorrow I love them enough to cry.

Smash Hits: Does the thought of not being in Take That frighten you?
Howard: Yeah, it really does. If it all stopped tomorrow it would just hit me so hard. I wouldn't be able to take it.

And if he was saying this kind of stuff to journalists, heaven knows what he was saying to his closest friends. But would anyone have taken him seriously? Money and fame are no guarantee of mental health but that's how people seem to feel about celebrities, as if their piles of cash can somehow make everything okay - "what's he got to worry about? Bloody whingeing celebrities". And if everything's not okay, at least they can buy themselves another car or house, or enough booze and drugs to make it seem okay temporarily.

It's always worth discussing whether we should show understanding or even sympathy towards paedophiles and murderers, and many people do. But it's very rare that sympathy is shown towards rich people. I hope that the wilderness years between Take That's split and their come-back gave Howard some perspective, I hope he's okay now and he won't feel the same way when they inevitably stop making albums again. But if he does, I hope he knows that the Samaritans will listen to him as well as his fans.

"If we wanted to do a kick, we did a kick."

Okay, last X Factor post for this week (honest). I just thought I should point you towards this Jedward interview with Digital Spy, which is the most depressing / hilarious thing I've read in weeks. In case you can't be bothered with the whole thing, here are the edited highlights...

John: "We were never nervous to do anything, we just wanted to let loose. If we wanted to do a kick, we did a kick."

John: "We are the type of guys who know what is going on around us."

John: "We are going to do a lot of different things."

John: "After every performance, we forgot about it."

John: "The thing about working with Brian Friedman was that it was such a challenge." [I'm sure he says the same about you, dear].

John: "We write songs that aren't boring about missing girls and boring stuff like that."

John: "As I've said before, we're like Frosted Flakes."

Edward: "Maybe Coco Pops."

Edward doesn't say much but, by God, when he does it's cracking good stuff.

And I don't know about you, but I'm really looking forward to this self-penned debut album that isn't about missing girls and other boring stuff: What could it be about? What other life experience could they be drawing on for these amazing un-boring songs? The time they went to the zoo a couple of years ago and it was okay but their mum made them pay their own entry fee? The time they both did a dance move at the same time and Brian Friedman said "YES that's exactly what you need to do on Saturday" but then by the time Saturday came round they'd forgotten how they did it? This could be the album of the millennium, people. OF THE MILLENNIUM.

Jedwardian architecture

And the Straight Face of the Week award goes to... Simon Cowell, for keeping his emotions under control when Dermot revealed that the bottom two acts were Olly and Jedward.

Anything you'd like to say, Cowell? "I'd just like to thank the public for not voting for these two acts - it honestly couldn't have worked out better for me, money-wise, and my face nearly burst from trying not to look like I was enjoying it, but somehow I kept it together."

What he really wanted to do

Yes, on the final week of the judges having a say in who stays and who goes, somehow they managed to look like the good guys by sending Jedward packing. Not only that, but they also got in a quick "NO ONE'S SAFE - do you see? VOTE!" message by putting Olly in jeopardy. I'm not saying it's fixed (I'm honestly not) but if it was, this is exactly what they'd have chosen to do this week. It's no wonder the X Factor is so popular - its storylines rival Neighbours for sheer drama and lunacy.

So, what happened on Saturday?

Lloyd: This is getting silly now. When will people learn to compare him against the other contestants, not against how rubbish he was in his previous performance? Anyway, poor Lloyd was terrible again but survives to honk out another tune next weekend. SAVE LLOYD.

Stacey: Fine but a bit dull. I agreed with Cowell about Stacey - she was better in Queen week. Now that she's the only girl left, Dannii thinks she's getting all feminist on our asses by insisting we vote for her, and this is exactly why Germaine Greer should appear as a guest on the Xtra Factor.

Jedward: They had a bad week, and it was the right time for them to go (as predicted by me, I think you'll find). The architects of Jedward's rise and fall should be very proud of themselves. So, what's next for Jedward? Everyone's saying they should be children's TV presenters, which somewhat assumes that presenting kids' TV is a job any old moron could do. This must be quite galling for the likes of 'Sam and Mark'.

Danyl: I'd describe Danyl's performance this week as average, which is better than previous weeks. This is all very well, but your favourite popstar should be someone you wouldn't mind being left alone in a room with.

Olly: Oh Olly, I do love you but there are better George Michael songs than that one (although none come to mind right now). I don't think the song choice explains why people didn't vote though: everyone assumed Olly was safe, but we won't be making that mistake again, mark my words. *Prepares for biggest telephone bill ever seen*.

Joe: Absolutely bloody spot-on again, Joe. He really is astonishingly good, but he's perhaps a bit too perfect for me. I like my popstars with a bit less stage school polish. But I do genuinely wish him all the best (I'm sure he's pleased to hear this) and, if Olly loses out to Joe in the final, I'll be relatively gracious in defeat. (Translation: just a small nervous breakdown and maybe a little killing spree).

So, whose Youtube video am I going to choose this week? Okay, just for a laugh it's Jedward's final performance: the one in which they did a much-loved Boyzone ballad to show off the magnificent singing prowess that's been hidden behind those dancers all this time. Bye, Jedward - it's been emotional.

Golly, Murs!

Well that was a close one. I feel like someone I love has just had a life-saving kidney transplant.



Full review tomorrow, when my heart rate has returned to normal. PHEW!

Just call me Lt Pignut Columbo (SAY IT...)

If you, like me, have been desperately refreshing the Popjustice homepage for the last 48 hours hoping that this week's X Factor playsheet will magically appear in front of your eyes, I think it might be time to give up the ghost.

I've been doing a bit of detective work (yes I have) and I've discovered the following two things:

1. I don't really suit a deerstalker hat. This might be because I'm a vegetarian.

2. The man who runs Popjustice, the very delightful Peter Robinson, is getting married today! Married, I tell you! So I think doing a hilarious Wham / George Michael themed playsheet this week is probably above and beyond the call of duty.

Happy wedding day, Peter Robinson!

If you're totally bereft without anything to print out and play with this week, you could always try these terrifying X Factor masks. Why not print out the Danyl one, stick it to your face and vote yourself off?*

* Not a euphemism.