Letts talk about … the Brit Awards 2010

By Quentin Letts

I feel I must begin this piece by expressing my astonishment at how corporate these particular set of industry awards were. Honestly, the entire “event” was as cutting-edge as the side of a Mastercard. Pfftt! Mastercard? Ooh, how rock ‘n’ roll! I think not. Tch! Corporate sponsorship, how pathetic!

The entire awards felt as blunt as a James Blunt record, and at least 10 times as schmaltzy. It didn’t come as any surprise that I didn’t once find Jonathan Ross even remotely funny. Almost all his jokes were met with a miserable silence from the front of my face and his attire was embarrassing to look at. In fact, as I said to someone next to me, it’s time the over-wated Wossy wetweated to Gweat Yarmouth to pwefowm in pantomimes! At least MY joke raised a titter.

Apparently they served some right muck to the 4,000 assembled guests. Aubergine caviar and black olive nougat – disgusting! The mere thought of that dish is enough to make my stomach turn. The “best” was yet to come, however, as the main course apparently consisted of beef loaf with pea crush (yeurch!). It looked like a big lump of dog faeces with snot smeared across the top, by all accounts, and I’m being charitable in saying that.

This was my first Brits. And after the entire excruciating debacle I sincerely hope it to be my last. The place looked to be full of ageing “music” execs who made the two members of Status Quo look hip by comparison. I viewed these poor, late-middle-aged fools with a strange mixture of pity and contempt.

Nice to see two of the Spice Girls could be bothered to grace the event with their presence, although they looked like a couple of trannies, as did Lady Gaga and Florence Machine. I hated them all. Maybe the other Spices (ugly, dirty and old) couldn’t get the time off from working the checkouts at Lidl or something.

It was good to see Dame Shirley Bassey there, though. A bit of class sadly wasted on this god-forsaken pantomime. Although I have to say it was slightly off-putting to have to watch some anonymous Radio Two disc jockey mince up to the stage as camp as an episode of Dynasty. I didn’t catch his name, but then again, I couldn’t have cared less anyway. Mind you, at least he was better than that other Radio Two fop who I can’t stand – Jonathan Woss!

I’m not going to keep harking on about this, but Wossy was simply awful. He wuined an alweady dire cewemony for me, and his jokes were as lame as his gwasp of the letter “r”. What on earth was this ponce thinking going on stage with those silly jeans and a bowler hat? Here was an old man completely out-of-touch with his audience dying in front of our eyes. I can only pray he dies in real life, too.

Liam Gallagher then ruined the event further (Ha! As if that were possible!), strolling on to the stage like he had escaped from the nearest loony bin before erupting in a fury and tossing his microphone into the crowd like a wet lettuce. How very rock and roll. More Van Morrison than Jim, if we’re honest Liam.

Gallagher was pathetic – I’m upper-middle class and I didn’t find this petulant display in the remotest bit frightening, so I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling. He may have been frightening to that Radio Two mincer, but I’ve had scarier dinner party guests than that. Pfftt! Pathetic! Give up, Liam.

So, to summarise, the entire circus was ghastly, garish and gaudy in the extreme, and the “music” was dreadful throughout. The guests were foul and unsightly scum who made me want to vomit throughout the entire evening, not to mention the food, which wasn’t fit for a dog. I thought the Brits 2010 reeked of favouritism and corporate back-slapping and I hated every second of it. And did I mention Jonathan Ross? Tsk!

In fact, it was almost enough to make me switch over to BBC1. Yuck! Rest assured, I shall not be watching again next year. Good day to you!


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