This picture of me taking a selfie (taken by Martin Boston) turned out better than the actual selfie.
Last night was the final of this year's Notts Factor and first of all I have to say that my doubts about Southbank as a venue were totally unfounded because it was perfect. Last year we had to run down the stairs at Rescue Rooms to appear of the stage to give an opinion on the acts, whereas this year we were placed on a desk in front of the stage on a judges table just like those television shows. All we really needed was a buzzer, actually that's not true because there wasn't an act that I would have buzzed off.
At the live auditions a few days ago I attempted to sketch out a running order but somehow it went askew and meant that the show would have run until about four o'clock in the morning. Thankfully, stage management duties fell to Will Jeffery, who was in attendance to perform with 94 Gunships, last year's winners.
It wasn't until I went to the bar for the second time that I realised that we judges had a bar tab, although in retrospect it might have been cheaper to pay us a fee. I didn't realise that I was drunk until I got home and fell asleep on the living room floor, and according to Mandi and had Jack attempting to revive me by picking up his ball and dropping it on my head, something that Lassie never tried.
The competition itself was a triumph and a very difficult call to make as there wasn't anyone on the bill that didn't deserve to be there. To be honest, last year's contest was something of a one horse race as 94 Gunships stood out a mile. This year, it was anybody's guess. Myself, Martin Valentine (Random Recordings), singer Nina Smith (who I cleared the air with after inadvertently and unintentionally insulting her in an article earlier this year), Rastarella Falade, a promoter and presenter, and Nathan Powell from the Nottingham Playhouse were the judges and although there were favourites all the way along it wasn't until we went into deliberation that the enormity of the task hit us, or hit me at least.
My tactic was not necessarily voting on the best act of the night, because there wasn't a bad one to be seen. Instead I decided to go with the artist who would make the best use of the prize package. The prize consisted of recording time with Random, coverage on Kemet FM the next morning, an appearance at next year's Waterfront Festival (to be honest, without dissing the festival, it isn't hard to get on at Waterfront), a professional photo-shoot and a gig at Southbank. Oh, and £500.
The eventual winner was Chloe Rogers, who I had to apologise to as I hadn't personally put her through to the final. However on her performance last night she more than deserved it. She will go far, hopefully out of the glass walled confines of Nottingham's music scene, and I also predict that the rest of the finalists will go on to bigger and better things throughout 2017. Of course, my endorsement might mean on recent examples that they are all doomed.
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