QUITE outlandish pop-star comparisons were casually bandied about on Saturday night.

“Jermain has this Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder vibe.”

“Jimmy’s got this Bryan Adams-type rock voice.”

“You sounded like Rod Stewart.”

None, though, reached the levels of ridiculousness of Ricky Wilson telling viewers: “You’re in for a treat.”

We’re in for two hours, 10 minutes of synchronised shouting, Ricky, or The Voice’s battle rounds officially. And that’s only blummin’ half of them.

Bone-headedly and unnecessarily long, it’s like the BBC has forgotten how to edit a show, which explains Kylie telling Nomakhosi: “You could sing the phonebook.”

Middle-aged Sally Barker, bamboozled by Tom Jones’ song choice, phoning her kids for help: “It’s by somebody called Olly Murs.”

High-maintenance Jessica Steele developing harp envy and deciding to see opponent Anna McLuckie’s instrument and raise her a Casio keyboard, followed by 90 seconds of painful screeching to Green Day’s Good Riddance, an apparently loud and clear message received by neither.

And Christina Marie’s reaction to Ricky Wilson telling her to be intimate on stage, to The Power Of Love, with big-boned Nathan Amzi: “I wish I’d been paired with David Tennant or Leonardo DiCaprio or...the list goes on.”

First welcome moment of brutal honesty all series.

These don’t, however, cover up the bad habits that have crept back into a series that dies the moment the chairs stop spinning.

Marvin Humes, even more than co-host Emma Willis, has caught a chronic case of Holly Willoughby’s “Give it up for...” lurgy.

Will.i.am and Tom Jones still choose songs to make themselves look good, Will with PYT to remind us he once worked with Michael Jackson and Tom picking Hey Jude because: “I did the duet with Wilson Pickett when I had a TV show, This Is Tom Jones.”

Kylie’s flirting has grown tiresome. There’s already one clear winner, Jai McConnell, although I must warn you, the best singer has never triumphed in two previous series.

And Jessie J has been curiously wiped from The Voice history. Hers was the only battle rounds track whose artist wasn’t name-checked.

The nearest Tom Jones came was saying: “The song I’ve chosen is It’s My Party. It’s a great song.”


And despite the grand total of zero hit singles produced by this programme, everybody is away with the fairies.

Kylie: “The blind auditions were incredible.”

Will: “I’ve got to be careful because I could be sending a superstar home.”

Ricky: “Nathan should have been a steal. But that moment is now on film. And the whole world will see it.”

Tinie Tempah: “What I’m looking for is star quality.”

It’s laughable nonsense, which is more than you could say for Will.i.am’s infuriating, indecipherable alien gobbledygook: “What Nathan just did was he was thrown into outer space, being an animal that lives in the ocean, and he performed wonderful fleets out there in space. You know what I’m saying?”

Not as such, no.

“Ricky let a supreme being exit the scene, if you know what I mean.”

I haven’t the foggiest, Will.

And there’s just two hours 10 minutes of this to go.

I need to exit the scene. If you know what I mean.

This week's Couch Potato Spudulikes...

Amanda Byram, on Sky Living's Oscars Red Carpet show, announcing: "We've seen a little bit of the wet bread carpet."

BBC Breakfast's Tim Muffett going from interviewing Hollywood A-listers at Vanity Fair's Oscars after-party in 2012, where he mistook US actor Ed Lauter for Patrick Stewart, to this announcement exactly two years on: "Good morning from the NHS Health and Care Innovation Expo 2014," at the Manchester Central Convention Complex.

ITV2 sending Party Wright Around The World's Mark Wright to a cowboy ranch and making him look like an entrant in the Epping Forest under-10s gymkhana.

And the axing of BBC3, which campaigners argue is a blow to new comedy. My argument against saving it? Hair host Steve Jones that very night: "Your challenge is to make a hat out of hair." I rest my case.

This week's Couch Potato Spuduhates...

Gaby Roslin's Sport Relief's Top Dog catchphrase: "On your barks, get set..." Grow up.

Newsnight's inability to spell Sir "Malcom" Rifkind or "Ukranian".

Jonathan Ross dying an excruciating chat-show death.

John Barrowman cheering and applauding himself on The One Show.

Everyone on TV who thinks it's funny to re-enact that Oscars selfie. (It's not.)

EastEnders bringing back so many old characters it's looking more like an episode of The Walking Dead.

This Morning's Legal Eagles' advice amounting to: "Go and get legal advice."

And Matt Baker's rivet-popping One Show link to a piece about an early submarine sinking: "Mary (Berry) doesn't like a soggy bottom but sadly that was the destiny for a revolutionary invention by a Victorian vicar."