So another episode of Singapore Idol just passed, and once again, I felt the compulsive urge to pull out every single strand of my hair, smother myself, and just throw a chair into the television. Oh, not to forget, while screaming “THAT’S NOT ROCK YOU FUCKING MORON.”

Good Charlotte isn’t rock. A Shrek OST is definitely not rock. Downtuning a song to match your (lack of) vocal quality does not equate to being a great singer. Being able to dance, look (act) cute, and make a jack ass out of yourself in national TV does not make you the next Singapore Idle.

Singapore Idle isn’t a competition of looks. It’s a fucking singing competition. Kwai-lo wannabes and underaged cutesy-looking fellows who can’t sing for nuts shouldn’t have even been allowed on stage, much less voted over those who actually posess the vocal qualities.

Good lord Singapore. Wake up and dig your ears, cuz’ its time to listen closely and find out (rudely, maybe) that your “favourite” contestants can’t really sing at all.

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