X marks the spot

By Paul Flower on Nov 25, 09 01:09 PM

Barely a week goes by without another prophecy of how the music business is going to die a tragic and horrible death, probably alone in a room with Vera Lynn spinning at 78rpm on the gramophone player with feral cats on stand-by to feast on its rotting carcass.

In all fairness I've even written some of this stuff myself, and I continue to struggle with the absurdity that there is no universal, worldwide solution to the problem of illegal downloading/file-sharing. It beggars belief that the industry as a whole can't even standardise the streaming market. Countless competitors continue to fight it out in the States while those of us with a free Spotify account rejoice that we are the 'chosen ones', until the artists start to revolt of course.

The fact may be that the recorded music industry is on its deathbed, but there is still one sure-fire way to guarantee selling product in the UK: get on X Factor.

These days you don't need to win the competition, notice JLS causing a riot on every estate they pass and the big stars this year won't even be in the final, they'll just be the ones you remember.

Where Cowell has been so clever this time around is to schedule his other artist releases around the screen time of X, so we are reminded of Leona or SuBo at exactly the right time. Boyle's album sold 130,000 copies in 24 hours of being on the show, coincidentally the day before release. It is currently shifting more CDs than the rest of the top five combined. At this rate it may be the biggest first week sales for a debut album, currently standing at 375,872, a record belonging to Leona Lewis, of course.

They might argue that it's all about that other 'c' word: Christmas has always been a crucial point in the calendar for music sales. The music industry has also always known that television exposure sells records; they were always willing to buy up the right ad space with the right act. X Factor goes one step further by being one gigantic ad - call the voting lines, hear our charity single, see our tour, buy our records. It's not so much subliminal as intravenous. Got an album out, why not drop in and patronise our smirking robotic idiots - they'll perform your songs quite badly, but don't worry you can still bank the royalties.

It won't even matter if you're too lazy to get out of bed or possibly can't drive yourself to the studio for whatever reason, we'll do you anyway and watch the money roll in. I'm not such a conspiracy theorist that I think Sony artists like George Michael are favoured because Simon Cowell's Syco label is in partnership with Sony, but others have expressed this opinion.

It's enough just to be special guests, like Mariah or Michael Buble to watch the sales rack up, with X Factor commanding so much attention and prime-time TV space it has become the music business 'vehicle of choice', to get on it is to guarantee success.

I suspect they take advantage of whatever is around, they are now the taste-makers so they don't need to pander to anyone else. Frankly it's all far too dull for me but the wider British public have always had conservative music tastes - you need only look at the most popular radio stations for proof of this.

It is truly the bland leading the bland. When Louis described one of this week's contestants as possibly being the UK's answer to Michael Buble, he was trying to be complimentary. Personally I'd have punched him out, but I tend to feel that way whenever I watch the programme.

This said I am becoming in awe of X Factor. It is the machine, a giant production line, a juggernaut of multi-platinum proportions. They can take freaks off the street and turn them into stars, you won't even realise how or what they've done, and in years to come you may wonder how those CDs found their way into your collection.

All this time we thought that Arnie was the Terminator, turns out that it was Cowell all along. We need no T1000 with mimetic-adhesive poly-alloy or a liquid-metal prototype we just need some geezer with trousers pulled up to his armpits and who has a bizarre penchant for karaoke bars. You know for a fact that 'he'll be back' - every six months or so to inflict more talent-contest terror on your tired eardrums. Tip your hat to the music business terminator himself; there is only one Simon Cowell.

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