It’s all over! X Factor 2014 has reached its glorious conclusion. Ladies and gentlemen, we have discovered a new star. But enough about Stevi Ritchie, because Ben probably deserves some of your praise too.
Hand on heart, I can’t thank any of you enough for reading and commenting along in these liveblogs. This has been one of my favourite years to liveblog X Factor, and that’s largely down to how game and hilarious (and drunk) you’ve been throughout. Honestly, I couldn’t have done this without you. I have no idea what I’ll liveblog next (please god don’t let it be Stars in their Eyes), but I hope you can join me then too. Now that we’re all such good friends, you should follow me on Twitter. Did I mention that I’m @StuHeritage? I did? Several times, and you’re sick of hearing about it? Fine.
Thank you again, have a wonderful Christmas and see you next year. ONLY THE YOUNG!
And now, just before the keychange, as is traditional in these moments, Ben simultaneously chokes on confetti and gets flung to the floor by his fellow finalists. Incredible, if slightly predictable, scenes.
You know, I can’t help feeling partly responsible for this. To be fair, that’s mainly because I’ve typed the word ‘sausage’ about a thousand times over the course of the last few weeks, which probably speaks more to my entitled sense of megalomania than anything else.
And now, Hank SAUSAGE SAUSAGE SAUSAGE SAUSAGE Kingsley gets to sing that bloody dreadful winner’s single of his.
This, I suspect, is the best possible result for everybody involved.
Ben looks genuinely astonished. Fleur also looks happy, possibly because she knows that she won’t have to record a bodged-together last-minute album of cover version for Valentine’s Day next year.
BEN HAENOW WINS X FACTOR!
See? I told you.
The winner of X Factor 2014 is.....
Right. Good. They’re here. Ben and Fleur. One dressed in white, one dressed in black. This is like Lost, except I’ve got even less idea of what’s going on.
BACKSTAGE! NO. Just tell us who wins. That’s all we want. If this goes on for much longer, I honestly think my laptop might blow up in my face.
Right. I think we’re actually going to find out who wins X Factor now. ALMOST THERE, HERITAGE. YOU CAN DO THIS.
My hands are killing me. My computer is on the fritz. I’ve long since run out of amusing things to say about adverts. If I make it to the end of X Factor alive, I’ll be absolutely bloody staggered.
Sam’s advice to Fleur and Ben? ‘Never do anything that you don’t want to do’. Fleur and Ben are about to sign a multi-year record deal with Syco. He may as well have told them magic chocolate buttons out of their bumholes.
I think they’re trying to spell out the word ‘Stay’ in the audience. It isn’t really working, though - it looks like they’re either spelling ‘SLAY’ or ‘51AJ’. Oh well.
However, this time Sam’s been joined by a giant choir. They’re all dressed in white BUT I’VE ALREADY MADE ONE GUILTY REMNANT JOKE THIS WEEKEND. This is literally the worst moment of my life.
Instead he’s singing that sing where he makes a weird incomprehensible noise through the verses and then shouts ‘Stay With me’ over and over again.
Oh, it’s not a song about his arse. It’s not that song where he goes on about money in a high-pitched voice, either. Both of these things disappoint me terribly.
Who’s singing now? It’s Sam Smith, possibly with a song about his arse.
And now an advert for Channel 4, where they try and get under X Factor’s skin with a message of ‘Some channels take risks with their entertainment shows, you know’. That’s the same Channel 4 that’s responsible for The Singer Takes It All, by the way.
Ad break. This time four years ago, we’d all be drowning in yoghurt. Drowning in it. Not now, though. Now we’ve only got trailers for crap films about Moses. I miss yoghurt so badly.
My favourite bit about tonight is the way that my computer is very obviously on its last legs and whatever I’m typing is taking about 25 seconds to show up onscreen. I think X Factor has literally killed my computer.
Oh, great, here’s another Interminable Recap. This one’s actually useful, because I’ve spent most of this weekend aggressively trying to wipe my mind of all this nonsense.
Now for Fleur’s friends and family to talk about Fleur. She didn’t sing in any toilets, apparently. This is a terrible shame.
BACKSTAGE! Where the fact that Fleur’s dad really likes scarves is reinforced once and for all.
Oh, Fleur’s crying too. Bang goes that theory, then. I know nothing.
With Hank, the judges were like ‘THIS IS THE MIGHTY CULMINATION OF A LONG-HELD DREAM’. With Fleur, they’re like ‘JESUS WOMAN, YOUR AMBITION TERRIFIES THE CRAP OUT OF ME’. Make of that what you will.
Fleur hasn’t shouted ‘WEMBLEY’ at anyone during this performance. I’m not sure if that made it better or worse than Hank’s version. Worse, probably.
To be honest, I’m finding Fleur really distracting here. I think it’s her arms. I think it’s the way that she keeps lifting them up and dropping them every line. It’s less like she’s singing, and more like she’s doing a mime of a nightmarishly sentient accordion.
Hey, you know something that Fleur needs? A better winner’s single, am I right? *Leaves high-five hand hanging forever*.
Fleur’s winner’s single is exactly the same as Hank’s winner’s single. Which seems a bit weird, since it was pretty much tailormade for Hank.
Now for Fleur to slowly relive her entire X Factor journey. The bulk of Fleur’s X Factor journey, in case you were wondering, is made up of a discussion about what to do with her hair.
Ben’s crying. I can’t imagine ever seeing Fleur cry in public, and that’s why I think he might be shading it today.
Ben’s friends are talking about him now. Mainly they’re just talking about how much Ben likes to sing in toilets. You know, just like normal people do.
BACKSTAGE! Nonna Rita is there! And so is a man who looks just like Ben. I bet tonight ends with him getting off with Fleur’s sister.
Oh, it’s finished. Meanwhile, Andi Peters has somehow managed to break into an abandoned CD pressing plant and is standing there with artwork he’s just drawn on a napkin in blood. He’s waiting for Dermot O’Leary to introduce him. But he never will. He never will.
Another thing about this song: it literally goes on forever. Literally. It’s still going now. It’ll never end.
It’s a tender song about the fragility of life, and it’s only occasionally interspersed with frenzied yells of the word ‘WEMBLEY’. I hope they’ll make it on to the recorded version, because they rock.
Updated
“You’ve got something I need”, Ben sings. I’m taking this to mean that he’s singing about sausages and, as such, I’ve decided that he should win.
Ben’s winner’s single is Something I Need by One Republic, which was possibly chosen because it sounds exactly like a rudimentary photofit of every winning talent show single in all of history.
And cry. He has to cry too. Ben doesn’t really have a sob story, so crying at footage of himself doing well at stuff is the closest that he’ll probably get.
But now we get to hear the winner’s singles for the first time. Ben’s up first. But before that, he has to relive every single important moment of his entire life.
Back again. There is still an hour left of this. Homeland’s on the other side. Sorry.
One Direction are blazing through all the teeny band stages, aren’t they? First they were grinning pop muppets, then they grew their hair out and got a bit alternative. Next step, unless I’m mistaken, is this. I can’t wait:
As a Tastemaker and Key Influencer of some repute, I’ve decided that the next big YouTube trend should be pop performances superimposed with Ronnie Wood, dressed in a woman’s blazer, skipping about behind them like crow-haired micro-pervert. Make it happen please, the internet.
Ronnie just said ‘Mick thinks this is hilariously creative’. I don’t know what that means, but I’m pretty sure that Ronnie won’t be getting a Christmas card this year.
You know, in retrospect I think that this isn’t Ronnie Wood at all. I think it’s Harry Styles, sent back from the future to send his present self a message. That message is ‘DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES I DID’. But present Harry will make those mistakes, because time is a flat circle.
They’re singing a song called Where Do Broken Hearts Go. It’s a shame that nobody’s found a definitive answer to this question since Whitney Houston first asked it in the 1980s. I’m sure this is all the fault of the government’s science funding crisis.
Oh Jesus, it’s Ronnie Wood. Or at least that’s what Harry Styles said. I think it’s more likely that Gollum strapped a crow to his head and started prancing around the stage.
Guys, we are basically witnessing this. WHY DO PEOPLE REFUSE TO LEARN FROM HISTORY?
Oh SWEET CHRIST. One of One Direction has a guitar. This cannot be good.
One Direction now or, if their appearance on the BBC Music Awards this week was any indication, Tom Hiddleston from Only Lovers Left Alive, Alvin Stardust, Otzi The Iceman, a malnourished kitten and Liam Payne.
Another advert for Stars In Their Eyes. This is really happening, isn’t it? Hold me.
Now for an advert where everyone wears headphones and pull smug faces. It’s like watching an audio description version of Take Me Out.
And now for another ad break. Fleur and Ben get to sing one more song each. By my reckoning, given how much of the show is left, each of those songs will last for approximately 37 minutes.
That hasn’t stopped Simon from flinging all his weight behind Fleur, though. He called it the greatest performance he had ever seen. And this is the man who discovered Robson and Jerome, remember. The man knows his potatoes.
But people went much crazier for Ben Haenow. I don’t think that Fleur’s going to win this. The moral of this story is ‘the best way to succeed is to call Ed Sheer the most incredible man in the world’.
There’s confetti. There’s dancing. Fleur briefly looked a bit like Zuul from GhostBusters. And then it finished.
This is just as good as last time, though. And it’s better than the original. Even if Fleur looks genuinely furious when she’s singing it. She looks like how her sister must feel every time she sees Fleur getting more attention that her.
She’s starting it backstage again, although thankfully without that bit where she faked a phone call with her mum. Decades could pass and I still wouldn’t be able to fully understand what that was about.
Oh, inevitably Fleur is doing Uptown Funk. Again. Oh God, she’s still going to be doing this on reality shows 20 years from now, isn’t she? This is her Carlton Dance, I know it.
We’re back! And now it’s time for Fleur East, who’ll probably have a better career if she doesn’t win tonight. If she’s smart, this next performance will be a canny act of self-sabotage. Hopefully she’ll walk on, do a great big dump on the stage and stroll off again. FINGERS CROSSED!
Don’t forget, according to this advert you can buy a Radio 1 Live Lounge album for your friends this Christmas, if they like the idea of music but wish it sounded more like the reception area of a Dignitas clinic.
Did this really happen during Hank’s performance? If so, I’m totally voting for him:
@stuheritage you missed "BULLYING" disappearing because of the force of his words, amazing
— RachBarrett (@Red_Rachel) December 14, 2014
And now, a quick advert for next year’s X Factor. I’d like nothing more than for my commenters to audition. But only if they do it in the state they are now, which is to say angry and badly dressed and drunk.
The judges all tell Hank that they love him. And the crowd are going bananas. So bananas, in fact, that I’m starting to think that he might actually win this. Especially because he managed to get through an entire sentence without referring to what a normal guy he is. The man is learning.
Behind Hank is genuinely the most inept Clipart I’ve ever seen. It’s just arbitrary words. ‘Charity’ was one of them. ‘Healing’. ‘Freedom’. ‘Cure’. ‘Support’. I’m not sure where they got these words from, but I think it might have been a catalogue for osteoporosis sufferers.
Hank is literally singing this into a mirror. There’s a man in there. You’ll never guess who it is. That’s right... it’s HIM. Mind. Blown.
Hank’s singing Man in the Mirror, which he apparently sang earlier in the series. I have no recollection of this. That can’t be a good sign, can it? I think he probably should have done Highway to Hell.
In the VT, Hank sits inside an empty cinema and watches himself sing. Like we all have. He’s just a normal guy, you know?
Half an hour in, and we actually get to hear a finalist sing! It’s Hank Hey Now Big Package Sausage Sausage Sausage Sausage Sausage Bloody Sausage Sausage SAUSAGE SAUSAGE Kingsley. In other news, I’ve gone right off sausages now.
There’s not much left to do in the show, but we’ve still got an hour and a half to kill, so Dermot’s making idle smalltalk with the judges. It is just as tedious as you’d expect it to be.
This is a phenomenally mismatched duet. Demi Lovato is a fiercely determined, old-school belter. Meanwhile Olly keeps whooping and wobbling like Robbie Williams after a seven-hour Jaffa Cake binge.
This song is called Up, incidentally. I think it’s named after the Pixar film. Olly Murs likes naming his songs after cartoons that make him cry, which explains his previous singles Bambi and That Bit In Toy Story 3 Where They’re All Sitting In The Furnace.
Now Demi’s singing. She didn’t mean to make Olly cry, she says. How did she make him cry? Maybe she laughed at his stupid hats. He’s had it coming for a while if that’s the case.
Olly and Demi take the stage. Olly sings first. He drew a broken heart on Demi’s window pane, apparently. That sounds like code for doing a poo in her toilet and not flushing it when he visited her house last.
It’s Demi Lovato, who’s about to perform a new duet with Olly Murs entitled I Said Yes To This Before I Knew Who Olly Murs Was And Now My Heart Is Full Of Regret.
It’s time for a guest performance!
I’ve just been informed on Twitter that the artist who crafted Ben Haenow’s beautiful monument of sausage calligraphy is hiring. I’ve half a mind to go for this job myself:
— Ron etheridge (@Vfsausages) December 13, 2014
Then Fleur did a song and I forgot to look up at the screen so god knows what just happened. Goodbye Interminable Recap. Whenever I’m stuck watching something that goes on for hours and serves no real purpose, I’ll think of you.
Then Ben did another song and, backstage, Cheryl’s bodyguard just looked tired. It’s been a long year for all of us, hulking bald bodyguard of my heart.
Then Fleur did a song and, backstage, Tulisa bravely went without a bodyguard.
Now for what should be but probably isn’t the final Interminable Recap of the year. Ben did a song and, backstage, Cheryl’s bodyguard isn’t having ANY OF IT.
Ben probably just got the biggest cheer of them all, though. That’s interesting. Well, not interesting. I’ll rephrase. That’s a thing that just happened.
Fleur just did a big rap, which proved why she’s in the final. This is underlined by the fact that she’s immediately followed by Overload Generation, who basically just grunt and band their heads together.
And they’re singing What A Feeling. That feeling, if you’re interested, is contractual obligation.
All the X Factor finalists from this year are doing a group song now. Stephanie Nala! Paul Whatshisface! Some kid I don’t remember! Those Jedward girls! They’re all here!
Dermot’s having a quick chat with Melb, who’s back from injury. Melb replies to his questions with a suitable amount of words. HEAR THAT, TULISA?
For the final time this year, let’s meet the X Factor judges:
LOUIS! Blinking and waving like a Chilean miner.
MELB! Dressed like a papier mache ostrich.
CHERYL! Dressed like Jessica Rabbit, if Jessica Rabbit had Tic-Tacs for teeth.
SIMON! THE T-SHIRT OF GENERALLY IMPROVED QUALITY IS BACK! WE’RE SAVED! SAVED!
Tonight, Dermot’s arriving onstage in a Mini. It might be the one that Simon’s giving away in that competition. Hopefully not, because it looks horrible. Whoever wins that competition is going to be terribly annoyed if that’s the case.
TONIGHT: Four songs padded out with an hour and a half of chaff. I’m paraphrasing.
LARST NIGHT! According to this montage, it was mainly safety harnesses and Ed Sheeran. Seems about right.
OK. Here we go. Deep breaths.
Oh, and don’t forget that One Direction are performing with one of the Rolling Stones. Should you be excited about about this? Here’s your quick at-a-glance guide:
KEITH RICHARDS: I guess.
MICK JAGGER: A bit.
CHARLIE WATTS: Probably not.
RONNIE WOOD: Definitely not.
BILL WYMAN: Absolutely not, under any circumstance whatsoever.
BRIAN JONES: ARGH! A ZOMBIE! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!
Once again, by the way, we have an all-star line-up of guest performers to look forward to tonight, including:
- ED SHEERAN!
- ED SHEERAN!
- ED SHEERAN!
- SOMEONE WHO YOU INITIALLY THINK MIGHT NOT BE ED SHEERAN BUT THEN THEY TURN AROUND AND, NOPE, STILL ED SHEERAN!
- ED SHEERAN!
- THE UK’S NUMBER ONE ED SHEERAN TRIBUTE ACT, SHED EERAN!
- ED SHEERAN’S MUM!
- JUST LOADS OF KIDS IN ROBES SLOWLY DANCING AROUND SILENTLY IN RUBBER ED SHEERAN MASKS, THEIR EYES AGLOW, STEALING YOUR THOUGHTS AND HAUNTING YOUR DREAMS!
- And Olly Murs.
NEWS: Melb’s back tonight. Nobody tell her that Andrea went home yesterday, OK? She’ll go mad. Just find a bloke, put him in a horrible jumper, Pritt-Stick a load of pubes to his face and intermittently jab him with a pin and she’ll never be able to tell the difference.
THE ACTUAL FINAL X FACTOR LIVEBLOG
This is it. This is really it. This is the X Factor final liveblog 2014. Remember all that stuff I said yesterday, about it being the culmination of months of hard work? Turns out I was lying my bum off.
Because this is the final X Factor of the year. This is where we’ll discover the 2014 X Factor winner. This is where, after what seems like months of liveblogging, I finally get to rest my poor RSI-crippled fingers, lie down in the corner of a suitably darkened room and listen to obscure French jazz for several months until my equilibrium is reset. This, really and truly, is the end of something.
Last night? Forget last night. Last night was just an extended promotional vehicle for Ed Sheeran, with occasional Wagner interstitials. Sure, we lost Andrea, and missed the opportunity to hear him sing I Didn’t Know My Own Strength by Whitney Houston tonight, followed by his debut album of other songs that sound like Take A Break cover headlines, like Please Don’t Stab My Baby and I Married The Man Who Suffocated My Mum.
But that’s the past. Tonight we make the future. In one corner, Fleur East – a ready-made star, and already the recipient of a number one single. In the other, Ben Haenow – beloved by the public for how normal he is, even though Sam Bailey won X Factor last year and she’s normal and look where that got us. Who’ll win? I’d say Fleur. But people are idiots, so who knows?
The X Factor final, and the X Factor final liveblog, will begin at 8pm. You lot have been troupers this year. A rush and a push and it’ll all be over. Dig deep, kids. We can do this.
And on that bombshell, it’s time to say goodnight. Remember, this is only part one of the X Factor final - we’ve got to go through this whole thing all over again tomorrow night before anyone announces the winner. I’m not sure if my emotions are up to it, frankly.
Thanks for reading and commenting, everyone. You’ve done yourselves enormously proud. You’re like my little X Factor Nation. Listen to my free podcast! Follow me on Twitter (I’m @StuHeritage)! Go to bed! ONLY THE YOUNG!
So that’s a Ben and Fleur final tomorrow. Boy v girl. Sausage v sister.
I probably liked him more than Dermot, though, because he basically just cut the poor guy off mid-sentence and then booted him into obscurity.
Poor Andrea. He could only sing in one way, and it got boring after about a month, but he was OK. He had a good beard, and there’s a pretty good chance that he could license the audio track of his best bits package out to film producers who need to soundtrack footage of people burning in a fire. But I liked him.
Andrea, there, smiling with teeth so gritted that it’s a genuine miracle that they didn’t shatter inside his skull.
And the second act definitely in tomorrow’s final is...
BEN.
The first act definitely in tomorrow’s final is...
FLEUR.
Obviously.
Right then. Actual results. We’re about to kick someone off, by which I mean realistically give them a better shot at a decent career in the longterm. TENSION.
Now for that advert about the little girl who doesn’t understand that you can buy gingerbread in blocks and looks sad. You deserve to be sad, little girl. You’re an idiot.
THIS EPISODE OF X FACTOR IS STILL ON
You might not think that was worth a Key Event, but I’ve been liveblogging for about two hours now. It’s there for me, not you.
Also, just for record, Ed Sheeran’s directionless fumbling for the correct word for a specific type of bread roll in the post-song interview was about 15 times more interesting than the song itself.
Oh, it’s finished. “I had breakfast with Van Morrison recently” says Ed. Alright sunshine, keep it in your pants.
Is it me, or is Ed Sheeran’s shtick essentially just singing numbers in a high voice? Just me? Suit yourself.
Ed’s fulfilling the Dreary Ballad Chosen By That Member Of The X Factor Production Team Who Was Just Dumped And Insists On Forcing Their Dismal Heartache On All The Poor Gits Watching At Home quota. There’s been one of these a week for about six weeks now.
Hey, just-dumped X Factor production staff member, cheer up. I know it hurts now, but it’ll get better. You’ll find someone else. I mean, just look at the comments underneath this liveblog. They’re all basically just getting off with each other down there.
Next up: a guest performance by Ed Sheeran. ‘But hasn’t Ed Sheeran just performed?’ you’re asking. The answer is yes. ‘Does this mean that X Factor has stopped being able to tempt famous people onto their live finals?’ you’re asking. The answer is yes.
Dermot’s talking to the judges. Simon’s nervous. Cheryl’s excited. Tulisa is mercifully brief. Louis Walsh looks like Roger Sterling’s idiot cousin (I know I made that joke already, but I don’t think it got the reception it deserved).
Voting has been frozen for the night. You must now stop not voting for any of these people, or your non-vote will not be counted.
Oh, Stars in their Eyes is back on ITV. Not On ITV wins again!
TRESEMME
They’re doing a straight and smooth look. They’re still doing a straight and smooth. Tresemme, there is a whole world of hair out there. A whole world of hair. Curly hair. Rough hair. It doesn’t always have to be straight and smooth, you know. Look it up. I’m not your dad.
What was Wagner’s suit, anyway? It looked like a cross between the Test Card, a Magic Eye puzzle and that time I accidentally ate a urinal detergent cake and ran up a hill.
I like that Jedward wasn’t in that last performance. Jedward have outgrown this sort of frivolous novelty, clearly.
Katie Whatsherface is singing loads. Wagner just got a little rap and a quick bongo solo. But, to his credit, he’s wearing a suit that looks like a cluster migraine. That’s something, right?
They made Wagner rap. And do bongos. I think that might be all he did. I hope not. It was ASTONISHING.
WAGNER!
WAGNER!
Now two people who I should remember but can’t. BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT WAGNER. WHERE IS WAGNER?
I completely forgot that Boris Johnson was a contestant this year. I’ve been here so long.
They’re not really singing here, just jigging around and saying ‘dirty bit’ a lot.
HERE WE GO. Stevi’s first! He’s sitting on a rocket! And now Boris Johnson! She isn’t!
WAGNER AND SAUSAGES. I think I might actually explode. I think my heart might actually explode in my chest with pure joy.
NO IT’S NOT! It’s STEVI and WAGNER and CHICO. Together! FOREVER! IN MY HEART.
I think it might be time for X Factor’s Laugh At The Fools moment.
There is a possibility that I’m beginning to lose my mind here.
And now, the first Interminable Recap of the weekend. No bodyguard-spotting this week, though, which seems like a wasted opportunity. I’ll just imagine that there are bodyguards onscreen. Ooh, look at that bodyguard! What a funny outfit he’s wearing!
Anyway, that was incredibly boring. It might have actually damaged Fleur’s chances, it was so dull. Apparently Labrinth was supposed to have his wisdom teeth removed today, but he cancelled it because Simon Cowell ordered him to he just loves Fleur so much.
This is interesting. Ben introduced Ed Sheeran. Andrea introduced Ella Henderson. But LABRINTH INTRODUCED FLEUR. Is this the first time an established performer has introduced a finalist? Is this a tacit demonstration that Fleur East is more popular than Labrinth? Am I reading too much into all of this? The answer to at least one of these questions might be ‘yes’.
Fleur’s duet is with Labrinth, last seen depressing the cack out of everyone on X Factor about three weeks ago.
Fleur’s duet now. As with Hank, she’s granted an audience with Simon Cowell. Simon says ‘You’re great’. Fleur says ‘Thanks’. Neither of them discuss the fact that the pristine white room they’re sitting in would be obliterated by a single followed-through fart.
I think the point of these Cortana adverts is that Cortana only works if you bellow at it in a funny voice. Seems like a design flaw to me.
Also, while I’m on the subject, ‘Cortana’ sounds like a type of discount chlamydia ointment.
You know on Twitter when two corporate brands get into a round of horribly-staged banter, and it makes you want to avoid both brands forever? That just happened in advert form between Siri and Cortana. I think my colon just withered as a direct result of this advert.
I’ve only just noticed that Andrea has the YouTube logo tattooed on his wrist. I hope that means that his winner’s single will be a YouTube hit. Maybe Gangnam Style. Or the one about the fox. NO. NO. WAIT. I want Andrea’s winner’s single to be this:
Because Ella’s a former X Factor contestant, all she’s really doing here is showing how much better than Andrea she is. She is good, though, isn’t she? I mean, they’re both loud, so this is a bit like watching two people forlornly call each other’s name in the middle of a hurricane. But she’s good.
Andrea just described Ella as ‘incredible’. But not ‘the most incredible person in the world’ like Ben did to Ed Sheeran just now. This is essentially a snub. If I was Ella, I’d kneecap the git.
Still no bowtie on Andrea. This won’t end well.
Now for Andrea’s duet. Because of Melb’s illness, the VT is just Andrea talking about how great she is. And then Ella Henderson rings up and says that they’re going to duet together. But which song will they perform? My guess is the really loud one with all the vowels in it.
Hank really can’t believe that he’s standing next to Ed Sheeran. SERIOUSLY HANK, LEAVE CROYDON. Seriously, Bromley’s just down the road. It’s a whole new world, Hank. A whole new world.
I hope nobody’s made a sausage of Ed Sheeran’s face. It’d look like a battered genital.
This isn’t so much of a duet as two people singing the same song at different times. Remember when Nicole Scherzinger basically punched the microphone out of that boy’s hands the other year? That’s the level of duet we should be aiming for. This is just glorified busking.
Hank just described Ed Sheeran, mid-song, as ‘the most incredible man in the world’. Hank sorely needs to leave Croydon.
Hank’s duetting with Ed Sheeran, fresh from being on every single bloody television programme all the time forever this bloody week.
Hanks’ singing his duet now. In the VT, Simon says ‘You’re quite good’ and Hank says ‘I’m just a normal guy’ over and over again until his head catches fire and pops off and explodes like a manky battery.
Dermot’s asking Megan what she thinks of London. She says she likes it. No new single. No tour. Both of them want to acknowledge that this is one-hit wonder deal, but don’t. It hangs in the air like a floating tumour.
Oh, it’s finished.
I’m looking forward to her follow-up, entitled I Also Definitely Have Ankles And Probably Some Toenails Too (But I Can’t Be Bothered To Take My Socks Off To Look).
I love this song. “I’ve got an arse” It goes. “You probably haven’t got an arse, but I definitely have. It’s definitely an arse of some description, because I looked it up on the internet”.
It is! It’s Meghan Trainor with that song about her arse.
What’s this? A guest performance?
THIS CHRISTMAS ON ITV: Birds of a Feather. THIS CHRISTMAS NOT ON ITV: No Birds of a Feather. NOT ON ITV WINS.
A Lidl advert. I don’t mean to boast, but I live about three minutes away from a Lidl now. As soon as tomorrow’s liveblog is over, I’m going to gorge myself on suspect meat and knock-off gluwein. Because I can now.
I miss yoghurt adverts.
The acts have each performed one song each. The show is halfway through. Duets are next. Hold me.
BACKSTAGE! Bongos. No food. Just bongos. That has to be a Wagner tease, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it? Wagner? WAGNER? DOESN’T IT?
REACTION TO FLEUR:
LOUIS: Basically a happy tantrum.
TULISA: 4000 words where about three would have been OK.
CHERYL: Reminds Fleur of her first performance, as she has with everyone else today.
SIMON: His chest hair basically just forms into the heart-eyed emoticon.
I have no idea what Fleur’s singing, but - predictably - it’s really good. She has to win this, surely. Even though most of this song just requires her to go ‘Na na na na’ like Cher lloyd back when she forgot all the words to all her songs that time, this is still counts as a good performance purely by the strength of Fleur’s conviction. I think she might actually be unstoppable at this point.
Then Simon Cowell introduces a Fleur performance at a Walthamstow venue. The crowd are pushed back about 50ft accordingly. Simon already went to a Harvester this year. Let’s not overdo his contact with the public.
“Everywhere I went this week, people were taking my picture! Little old me!” says the woman standing in front of a bus with her face and name on it.
In the VT, Fleur gets pinned into her bus seat by her sister and it’s sad to watch. Then she goes to MTV. MTV’s still a thing. I honestly had no idea.
And now here comes Fleur. She doesn’t have much to do to secure her victory tonight. She just has to give us more of what she gave us last week. That’s right, she just has to replicate the single most thrilling moment in about eight years of X Factor. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it?
Dermot’s back. If Andrea goes out today, I think it might be because Dermot stole his bow tie. That bow tie is the source of Andrea’s power.
One more weekend. One more weekend of having to sit through that terrible slowed-down You’re The One That I Want advert because I have to liveblog whatever comes after it. I can do it. I can DO IT.
Ben got sausages. Andrea got cake. PREDICTION: when they go backstage after Fleur’s performance, it’ll just be a shot of her sister everything in sight and cackling and flipping Fleur the bird.
I might stop embedding so many videos now. I might not, though. You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my dad.
Hey Andrea:
BACKSTAGE. Cakes. Cakes are not sausages. YOU LOSE, ANDREA.
Tulisa’s really milking her time back in the spotlight. She’s basically filibustering X Factor. I like Tulisa.
If my liveblogging fades in and out from this point onwards, it’s because whenever I close my eyes this is all I see:
There isn’t a lot to say about this performance. It’s just yelling. I sound like my dad. I’m not my dad.
Andrea’s singing it on top of a giant roulette wheel. Andrea Roulette is a really interesting game. Instead of ‘red’ and ‘black’, there’s ‘bellowing’ and ‘poo-face’. And the house always wins.
Andrea’s singing Feeling Good. Well, I say singing. He’s basically just yelling it at the top of his voice. He should learn semaphore. It’d probably be easier for all of us.
Also in this VT, Andrea sang a song and people liked it. That’s it.
See? Andrea, this is your spiritual ancestor:
Andrea’s thing is just wearing funny jumpers, isn’t it? He’s basically Giles Brandreth 2.0
In Andrea’s VT lots of people talk in a foreign language and cry a lot. I think I might have accidentally switched over to BBC Four.
Time for Andrea Faustini now. Poor Andrea. I think at this point it’s fair to say that Andrea won’t win X Factor. But this country will never forget him. From now on, whenever we see a badly-dressed radiation klaxon go into meltdown in a silo full of burning goats, we’ll think of Andrea.
My work here is done. You lot can finish this liveblog.
SAUSAGES
My prayers have been answered! They keep saying ‘sausages’. SAUSAGES.
BACKSTAGE. And SAUSAGES. SAUSAGES SAUSAGES SAUSAGES.
“You’re just a normal guy” said Simon Cowell to the man in the ridiculous leather jacket who just stood astride a giant glowing strand of DNA that could levitate.
TULISA SPEAKS. It took 27 minutes, but here she is. She’s saying nothing of worth, so instead I’ll point out that Louis Walsh said ‘You’ve had such a long journey’. Louis, he comes from CROYDON. That’s 45 minutes. An hour, tops.
Oh, Hank just smashed his way out of the box. Now he’s strapping himself into some sort of neon double-helix that’s floated into the air. I think, and I could be wrong, that this is a berserk dramatisation of the Jurassic Park plot. But about sausages.
Jurassic Pork.
I’m sorry.
I don’t know about you, but I hope he doesn’t fart. The poor boy would suffocate. Think of all the sausages he eats. Putrid.
Hank’s singing a song called Demons, which I don’t know because I don’t watch many adverts for consumer electronic products. But he’s singing it inside a David Blaine-style perspex box, so that’s something.
Hank’s battle bus is full of his screaming fans. Including three young girls who keep professing their love for him in a truly creepy way. Hank sings a song. Then he goes to HMV. Then he sits down by the batteries. This VT package is going on FOREVER.
Oh, it’s finished.
This week, Hank visited his mum. Then he looked at some apples and went to the pub. Hank, it’s fair to say, did not have a thrilling week.
It’s Hank Hey Now Big Package Sausage Widow Crap Me A Sausage Sausage Calligraphy Kingsley The Crying Sausage Eater. That Beckenham sausage man had better be in the audience with an entire banner made of sausages after this performance, I tell you.
We’re back! Dermot’s walking around the judges. This means that we’re about to get an actual performance.
19 minutes in and Tulisa still hasn’t been allowed to speak. This is a game I’m playing now.
I have to say, though, I was disappointed that Gary Barlow didn’t intersperse that song with references to Tulisa’s smelly breath, just like he did in the old days. The bad old days WHICH WE MUST NEVER FORMALLY ACKNOWLEDGE.
And now an ad break. I’ve just moved house, and I’ve moved to a different TV region. There’s a chance that I might be about to liveblog loads of low-budget adverts for local garden centres. I’ve just plugged my telly in. I have no idea.
And that’s that. If nothing else it proved that Ben Haenow has a promising career of pointing at Howard Donald’s stomach ahead of him.
All this really proves to me is that Fleur + Andrea + Ben do not = Jason Orange.
And here come the finalists. They’ve been given approximately three words each. This is a rubbish duet.
It’s interesting to see the differing tactics of the various Take Thatters. Barlow: hunched and emotive. Owen: bobbing up and down like a toddler who needs a wee. The other one: plainly just thrilled to be there.
They’re doing Rule The World. I have to say that I was looking forward to this performance much more before Tulisa became a judge. Now the whole thing just seems like a horrible X Factor 2011 reunion. God, I hope Kelly Rowland doesn’t show up with her wandering mole.
Here’s the first performance. It’s Take That’s Guilty Remnant!
Remember back when Ben had really bad eyebrows, and Andrea wore a jumper with a dog on it, and Fleur was exactly the same? TOO LATE IT’S FINISHED NOW.
But before anyone can sing anything, we’ve got to watch AN ENTIRE HISTORY OF X FACTOR.
Ben just said “I’m just a normal bloke” without a trace of irony. Let the records show that this was the moment that X Factor genuinely and permanently became The Hunger Games.
All the finalists are being introduced now. We’re getting to see them high-five loads of strangers. I hope we see them compulsively douse themselves in hand-sanitiser, too, because ick.
I’m enjoying the sound of Dermot’s microphone in this huge arena. It sounds like he’s shouting into a toilet.
For the penultimate time, we should probably say hello to the remaining judges:
LOUIS! Roger Sterling’s idiot cousin.
TULISA! No arm thing. GET OUT.
CHERYL! 25 steps behind everyone else for some reason.
SIMON! Pretty sure I just saw his pubes.
Dermot O’Leary has a jetpack on. It looks uncomfortable. How’s he going to come onstage tomorrow? I hope he gets farted into Wembley Arena by a giant cow. Make that happen, producers.
Updated
Right. Actual X Factor is starting now. You probably went to bed ages ago. Never mind.
If this intro has taught me anything, it’s that if you slow down footage of Andrea singing, it makes him look like a really desperate stand-up comedian. Who knew?
Oh, no, there’s Paul Akister. This is definitely X Factor. “Nothing ever lasts forever” goes the song. Try telling this to whoever put this bloody intro together.
An old reel of film. A door. A bus. A light. A moody cover of Everybody Wants To Rule The World. I think I might accidentally have switched over to a crap perfume advert.
ITS TIME! TUFACE! TULISA!
Incidentally, given that Wagner appears to be performing tonight, I have some IMPORTANT WAGNER NEWS. We’ve (genuinely) been communicating via Twitter DM this week. Here are some points he’d (genuinely) like me to pass on to you, along with my responses:
“Would u please b as kind as to tell your readers about my single? It’s a song I wrote ;)x”
YES. Wagner has a song out, and it’s called Switched On Like A Radio. Here it is:
“Any chance of also mentioning my hair transplant at the Vinci Hair Clinic in London please?”
Sure. But only if I can take the piss out of your bald head, as it is my style.
“Of course you can take the piss out of my bald head looooooooool as it is your style”
OK. Wagner, you silly bald bongo-liking idiot.
“King Stu Heritage The Great is the best, forget the rest. No one writes like u, u r fantastic! The most entertaining ever!”
I have no response to this, but I thought I’d include it because I’m vain and respond abnormally well to flattery.
Obviously the biggest news of the night is the fact that Melb is too ill to appear. According to the official email I got earlier today, ‘Unfortunately Mel is still unwell and following doctors advice she will not be taking part in Saturday’s show. Tulisa will join the panel as a guest judge.’
I have four things I’d like to say about this:
1 - This is a shame. I liked Melb.
2 - Tulisa, if you’re reading, please do the Female Boss tattoo salute. I miss it.
3 - Also, please say ‘OK dot com’ at some point in memory of Alexandra Burke, the replacement X Factor judge who could have been.
4 - It’s doctors’ advice, not doctors advice. Seriously, get it together. I’m not your dad.
Proud faithful, this is it. This is the final X Factor liveblog of the year. Or, as you may prefer to call it, the 2014 X Factor final liveblog. Or some other combination of words. Look, I shouldn’t have to hold your hand through this. I’m not your dad.
Anyway, it’s all been leading up to this. Remember the first audition show of the year, back in what seems like but probably wasn’t January? We were so young back then. We had no idea that lovely hapless Stevi would end up as a monstrous Egyptian emperor, or that one of Addictiv Ladies would get a number one song, or that Andrea would demonstrate approximately zero musical progression whatsoever. We were so young back then. So young.
And, over the next two nights - over four hours of television - it all comes to a head. The three remaining X Factor finalists will duke it out in a merciless ad-supported battle to the death. One will leave tonight. One will fall at the final hurdle tomorrow. Whoever’s left will be crowned as the winner. On the way, there’ll be laughter. There’ll be tears. There’ll be – unless I’ve drastically misread things – Wagner. This, make no mistake, is the most important television event of the year. Until, you know, the screening of The Holiday straight after tomorrow’s episode.
The main thing is that we did it! Barring any last-minute catastrophes, we lasted the entire season. We’ve seen sausages and Nonnas and enough Skyping to fell a buffalo. We’ve seen, unless I’ve completely got the wrong end of the stick, two commenters literally fall in love. We’ve seen many others fall into alcoholic stupors. And we’ve seen all this together. We are a family now, bonded in the blood of mediocre singers. One last push and it’ll all be over. We can do this. The show starts at 8:30. ONLY THE YOUNG!
