What fresh hell did I just watch (at the request of DD)
Hardly any singing mostly the gurning earnest Sam Ryder and his chipmunk sidekick Paloma Faith who resembled a retro plastic doll twittering on. Their double act also interspersed with soggy weepy friends and relatives huddled underneath clear umbrellas.
Alison Hammond wearing enough makeup to sink a battleship interviewing said relatives and mere snippets of actual singing. Apparently every life experiences such as loving your mum and growing up on a council estate are criteria for stepping onto a soaking stage and performing for random people traipsing around in the rain in between visiting Primark or Costa Coffee/ whatever. The woman who had had a kidney transplant rightly seemed to get a bit more exposure but the whole thing was very peculiar. Also felt very cynical and exploitative schedule filling. Sam Ryder hitting the stage to treat the audience by murdering a song Marvin Gaye originally recorded was the final straw.
Fortunately DD was as bemused by the whole thing as I was and no request to repeat the experience will be forthcoming I wager.