If there’s one thing The Voice doesn’t need it’s 300 stone country-and-western singers from the province of Ulster and yet that’s exactly what episode six delivers in the form of Belfast’s John Rafferty. Big John used to be a Garth Brooks impersonation before things got too heavy – notably his internal organs strangled by the intra-abdominal fat inside his peritoneal cavity. He waddles on stage out of breath and just about makes it through to the end of a stunningly average version of Take Me Home, Country Roads. “So close” is Tom‘s verdict and John was so close to a heart attack that this very nearly ended up as a snuff movie.
It’s always good when a celebrity pays a visit to the show. I love that. Unfortunately, we get a visit from Bizzi Dixon instead who you will not remember from Jizzi’s Party. After a bizarre interlude where his tribute singer brother gets told to GTFO Bizzi turds his way to a technically accomplished version of Kings of Leon’s Use Somebody before listening to his brain over his dick and going with Tom ahead of Pielie.
Is using your brain the key to success on The Voice? Paul Raj went to the Brits School with Adele – he must be smart, right? In his introductory video he wonders aloud “why haven’t I gotten famous like my twunt contemporaries?” It’s a fair question. He’s got a good disco-soul voice, gives a fine performance of Fine China – he looks, sounds and acts the part. And yet no one turns around. They all like him – just not quite enough.
Never mind. Here’s another guy destined for stardumb from an early age. Marc William schooled at the prestigious Conti Academy, whose alumni include Pixie Lott, Noel Coward and David Van Day so you know that they don’t play. He does a weird left-field Whole Lotta Love which, while undoubtably nausey, is better than most performances you see on here. And yet again he gets a Mount Rushmore of chair backs in response. Will tells him he should accessorise his vocals like the accessorises his outfit and Marc nods sadly, seeming to understand this patent gibberish.
There you go boys and girls. It doesn’t matter if you end up at the Cunti Academy or were friends with a famous tub. Following your dreams is pointless and going to school of any kind is a big waste of fucking time.
It doesn’t matter if you end up at the Cunti Academy or were friends with a famous tub. Following your dreams is pointless
Hot on their heels but emphatically not hot in any other sense is burlesque flagcracker Kiki deVille who captivates everyone with her rendition of something or other. Kiki has a big voice and an even bigger risk of diabetes. Will goes with her hoping to fulfil the BBW face sitting fantasy of his that got stymied when Foxy Brown fell offstage.
The big heartwarming moment comes when 16-year-old scouser Amelia O’Connell is saved from a life of car theft and drug fuelled home invasions by Pielie Minogue after her impressively mature version of The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Amelia only has eyes for her Antipodean soulmate and tells the other judges to ‘do one’ before she shanks them. There’s not a dry eye in the house.
Tune in next week for another toboggan ride into oblivion. The Voice. You’ll wish you never came.
The verdict: Only one week to go! (Before there’s several more weeks of this shite).
Marks out of 10: 5