Frankie goes to …..

 

Poor old  Frankie. I do feel sorry for him, even though he can’t sing and should never have got this far on the X Factor. It’s all very well for Simon Cowell to turn round now and say it’s entirely the boy’s fault that he’s had to leave, but it’s not really as simple as that, is it? I think we all know that Cowell and his show have been enjoying the massive publicity generated by Frankie’s bender-and-banging lifestyle.

It seemed a bit odd to me when Gary Barlow admitted he wasn’t trying to stop Frankie’s boozing and shagging a couple of weeks ago, saying more or less, ‘he’s only 18, what can you expect?’  At 18, unless things have gone very wrong, you can expect some sort of parental influence, even quasi-parental influence, saying, ‘come on now boy, if you party all night you’ll look like crap on telly and your singing will be even worse.’

I have been enjoying Kelly Rowland’s strict, almost Calvinist work ethic, exorting her acts and everyone else in sight, almost down to the audience, to work harder and harder each week. Frankie has been totally at odds with that, clearly not ‘working’ in the slightest, getting half an hour’s sleep on Saturday night and generally treating his moments on stage as boring interludes which he had to be dragged through before he could recommence shagging.

It is the old battle between application and talent. Will you win the prize if you work 24 hours a day, or will it be scooped from under your nose by someone breezing in and dazzling the audience with charm?

Unfortunately for Frankie, the only time he was unable to charm people’s pants off was when he was singing on stage.

Mind you, if he wants to make it as a rock star, leaving the X Factor under a cloud will only enhance his bad-boy reputation. Or maybe he should do us all a favour and use that charisma in a different way. Acting, maybe? Frankie goes to Hollywood does have a certain ring about it …..

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