Channelling the spirit of Gwyneth Paltrow, Albarn mentioned everyone in the world he’d ever met, and their parents, repeatedly turning his back on the audience to point out where they were sitting. ITV should have had a live band there to drown him out, or to fire a few knock-out blow-darts from the wind section. You waited in vain for Brandon Block or Jarvis Cocker to stage an intervention. At least Blur were a bit lairy, if ramshackle and under-rehearsed. They had Phil Daniels too. Yeah, Kevin Wicks was raised from the dead. Mercifully they stopped before Pauline Fowler followed him back through the ether.

The Brits used to be pop’s great gift to rhyming slang. It’s still a long way from professional – as the bozos and show-oafs wandering in front of the camera during Corden’s live links illustrated. But pop’s annual beano now suffers for being too corporate and bland. Maybe that’s why Ed Sheeran appeared in fancy dress, to compensate for his lack of personality. The red-hair, the green shirt... he’d come as a leprechaun. Only at the end of his rainbow, there’s probably a pot of pot... which George Michael looked like he’d sampled.

The whole night lacked spark. Jenson Button and Cesc Fabregas brought nothing to the party. And Adele aside, the UK stars depressed. Starting the show with wrist-slitting Coldplay is like kicking off a stag do with Leonard Cohen. The rest was Brits by numbers: Florence for the NME crowd, Olly and Wand Erection for X Factor kids... r’n’r content, next to zero. The bland leading the bland.

*THERE’S nothing like winning a Brit to guarantee decades of fame and creativity. Just think of Terence Trent D’Arby.

*Unreliable Brits fact: Noel Gallagher’s eyebrows? Caterpillars.

TO Whitechapel, where the streets are full of psychotic master-criminals tirelessly re-enacting historical abominations. The Ripper, the Krays, Victorian poisoners... the killers have researched them all meticulously to pull off copy-cat crimes for reasons the writers haven’t wanted to bother our pretty little heads about. Facing them are posh-boy DI Joseph Chandler, a twit so uptight he can’t even deduce that every women he meets fancies the pants off him; his hard-bitten DS Ray ‘Gertcha’ Miles. And oddball ‘Ripperologist’ Edward Buchan, who now has an office the size of three squash courts in the cop-shop basement. Belief, like logic, is strained. In one recent episode, the killer was a builder who hid inside the walls of houses he was working on in order to murder the residents. Hmm. Have you ever met a builder who can go ten minutes without making a phone call or popping out for a fag? Despite that, the show is stylish hokum. And I look forward to them re-creating other past East End villains, like Spring-heeled Jack or that notorious hit-man who, back in 1989, brutally gunned down Dennis Watts with a bunch of daffs.

AT Downton Abbey the cast assemble in the dining room around a remarkable electronic device. Carson: “May I have a word, m’lord?” Earl: “Can’t it wait Carson? We’re watching Upstairs Downstairs.” Dowager Duchess: “Not very good is it? This Sir Hallam character appears to have been carved from a large piece of teak.” Lady Mary: “Even I wouldn’t.” Dowager: “They’ve done away with Lady Maud, who was absolutely the best thing in it, apart from the monkey which they’ve gassed.” Lady Cora: “Look, Chamberlain has in his hand a piece of paper.” Dowager: “If it’s the script he should tear it up.” Branson: “I’d point Percy at Lady Persie but that’s about it.” Carson: “You’re out of turn, my lad.” Branson: “Well, you have your turn; I’ll wait for the lesbians.” Earl: “Right, enough of this. Turn it off, Carson. We’ll watch You Rang M’Lord? instead. That’s far more realistic.”

R.I.P. Frank Carson, a true gent. Frank was not to modern taste, which means the public loved him but sniffy TV execs did not. Is it fanciful to think that the old boy could have produced more laughs in three minutes than 10 O’Clock Live has in three tiresome episodes?

*THEY just found Frank’s will. Turns out his last request was to have Whitney Houston sing at his funeral.

HOT on TV: Homeland... Modern Family (Sky1)... The Mentalist (C5)... Kidnap & Ransom.

ROT on TV: Watson & Oliver – what’s on the other side?... Upstairs Downstairs – moth-Eaton Place... that EastEnders hit-man – there are harder Jocks in the Commons bar.

AFTER Haye v Chisora, EastEnders gave us another low and dirty fight: Roxy v Derek, The Prat v The Hat. Del is so evil even Rose West finds him creepy. Luckily he’s also about as bright as Heather Trott in a coma. The hit-man he hired to take out Poxy took the dosh and gave it to her instead. Now Shirley has promised the revenge of the Mitchells. Who they? Peggy’s legged it, Grant’s long gorn, and Phil’s been banged up in a Woking panto (HMP Peter Pan); leaving... Billy and Ben. The Flowerpot men were scarier.

*IS Fat-Boy just a comedy stooge now? He spent Tuesday hanging about like a pancake waiting to be tossed.

*STARTING tomorrow: Empire. Or as Prince Philip calls it: “See what we had and what you blasted pinko idiots threw away.”

*WITHOUT Milton on Corrie, is it beef curtains for Beef Encounters? Just asking...

*TRACY Barlow celebrated “VS Day – Victory over Steve.” Let’s hope she never falls out with Dev.

*ANDREW ‘Dice’ Clay on Joan Rivers and daughter Melissa: “Did they ever cut the umbilical cord? Melissa’s like fifty already, let go!”

RANDOM irritations: Ed Miliband starting sentences with “I say this” in the mistaken belief it makes him sound like a statesman. Jimmy Carr’s laugh. CNBC dropping Leno for lightweight Jimmy Fallon. The Brits’ insultingly token tributes to Whitney Houston and Amy Winehouse. No-one using Whitney’s funeral to ram home the message: crack kills.

SMALL joys of TV: Donald Trump’s hair. Phil Davis. When The Circus Comes To Town (BBC4). Rihanna dancing in her pants.

BIG Fat Gypsy quote of the series: “I’ve got Jesus in my mouth” – words not heard on TV since the Loose Women works outing to Tijuana.

*SEPARATED at Birth: Arg’s Nanny Brighton and Lou Beale, one the long-suffering matriarch of a family of horrors... and so’s the other one.

‘BEAVERS’ was the seven letter word on Countdown, which is why Nick Hewer asked Ann Widdecombe: “Ann, what about you and Susie, do you both have beavers?” Susie? Yes; Ann? Unproven.

Feb 19. WHERE better to spend Valentine’s Day than Walford, the home of romance? Love isn’t so much blind here as borderline psychotic. It’s hard to believe that a man who fancies the delightful Heather Trott would turn out to have a screw loose. And yet Monday saw an unprecedented out-break of spud rage as Andrew hurled a boiling pan of potatoes at the kitchen floor. I’m not sure what type they were, but I think Heather was wearing the sack.

“Cook yer own dinner,” he told her furiously. “I can’t even look at you right now.” (Welcome to my world...) Naturally Hev was devastated – all that wasted grub. Andrew had been planning an x-rated Valentine’s night in with her (well, okay, XXL-rated). He had a list: ‘Buy ring, book restaurant, buy card, flowers.’ And over the page, no doubt, ‘Rohypnol Por Homme.’ But Hefty Hev wrecked it all by getting mashed with Shirley the Terrahawk instead. Oh dear. The writing is on the wall for the cheese-guzzling, Wham-obsessed heffalump. (And the writing says: ‘acting lessons.’)

There was more heart-ache when Whitney dumped Fat-Boy for Tyler – only to catch him at it with Lucy Beale (Loose for short). Talk about a cock-up in the lock-up. They’re together for good now, though, a lot like Greece and the Euro.

Most Walford women are damaged goods. The voluptuous Tanya tried to bury Max alive, their dishy daughter Lauren is a vomiting drunk. And the rest are bitches, snitches and in the case of Janine, murderous witches.

The Square is like a holding pen for Bad Girls. There are dippers, strippers, drippers, drug-trippers and tarts who deserted their nippers. While the blokes are always mugs, lugs or thugs heading for the jug. No wonder the course of true love runs as smooth as a lady-boy’s chops after a week without a razor. This is E20, where even Cupid carries a cosh... And where selfish, sour-faced skank Shirl can see fit to give relationship advice. It almost makes you nostalgic for Angie and her daily quart of gin. At least Tracey is nicely turned out, can pour a pint and generally keeps her gob shut for years at a time.

*THIS is nice, if Anthony had managed to cook those spuds he was planning to cover them in cheese freshly grated on Mum Rose’s scraggy neck.

*ANTHONY’S to-do list wouldn’t have tested the memory of an absent-minded goldfish. Previous notes to himself are believed to have included: ‘breathe’, ‘get dressed’, ‘eat’ and ‘crap’.

C4 is in hot water over Big Fat Gypsy Weddings, possibly because there might be a few bob in claiming to be outraged by it. The show bends over backwards to show travellers in a good light, and never risks unsettling them with awkward questions about PAYE or road tax. Nuptials seem to have taken a backseat to Holy Communion this series, although the real subject matter – teenage girls squeezing into gowns that would have seemed OTT in the palace of Versailles - remains unchanged. You could conceal a carthorse under some of these outfits. “It’s important to look good for God,” said Nangirl. Maybe so, but where in Proverbs does it say: whoso findeth a wife dressed as a pineapple findeth a good thing?

*THOUGHT: would a woman who wed as a pineapple fritter her life away?

A SHOCK turn of events on Spartacus, where Crixus finally found his missing Naevia (a woman not a face cream) only to be literally stabbed in the back by the turncoat Ashur. So that’s Coitus and Crixus Interruptus, then. Evil Ashur tortured noble Oenomaus close to death and then cruelly taunted him with revelations about his dead wife’s affair. I’m going to enjoy watching this bastard die. Sadly we didn’t get nearly enough historically crucial scenes of Ilithya bathing and bonking (she adds a touch of toffee-nosed class to the proceedings; think Paris Hilton does Geordie Shore). But magnificent Mira is game as you like, topping a sleazy slave master. And just when he thought his own filthy weapon was going to see action, too...

*WHAT does sexy Chadra see in charmless dimbo Rhaskos? Is it the baldness, the bad breath, the brutishness... or the fact that he’s built like a human tripod? He’s part Biggus Dickus, part Philus Mitchellus.

HOT on TV: Hustle finale... Katrina Law (Spartacus)... Friday Night Lights... Luck (Sky Atlantic) – odds-on favourite.

ROT on TV: Jo Brand On Kissing – what next, Colonel Sanders on vegetarianism?... Daddy Daycare – this Daddy don’t care... Mad Bad Ad Show – lame, tame, game shame.

A PRETTY blonde turned into a snarling monster on Grimm, a supernatural saga where fairy tale critters are real. So when a girl in a red hoodie gets snatched there’s a big bad wolf-man to blame. Hero cop Nick is a Grimm who can see through the beasts’ human disguises. And the sooner he exposes Loose Women the better.

*THE technical name for a blonde who turns into a nightmare? A Katona.

*BITS of butchered women were turning up on Whitechapel, and DI Joe got a posh new love interest. Odd though that she only appeared when the word went round that he had a foot and a half...

*JO Brand discovered hookers who provide a ‘girlfriend experience’. It’s not as exotic as it sounds. They just moan at you for watching the football with the lads and stomp off to bed with a headache.

*CHLOE was turned into a sushi salad on TOWIE, although frankly if you fancied a cold fishy roll you’d be better off with Amy.

*THAT Yank with the 38KKK boobs, do you think she’s a wizard under the sheets?

*ON True Blood, the witches’ coven raised a bird from the dead and then a person. Next they’ll try something really challenging - the 10 O’Clock Live scripts.

*TOP 3 Yuckiest TV Sights: 3) Ashur slicing the mark of Batiatus from his forearm on Spartacus. 2) Sparty running his sword through a guard’s eye 1) Arg wobbling along a beach (TOWIE); that’s Arg short for “Aargh, no!”

RANDOM irritations: Bafta leaving Harry Fowler and Betty Driver out of their roll-call of the dead. TV Bafta coverage being more concerned with frocks than films. Self-righteous smart-arse Charlie Brooker. Smug smarm-bucket Stephen Fry. Cringe-worthy comedy on Being Human.

SMALL joys of TV: Grimm. Polystyrene ‘gypsy’ wedding cakes. Jockey-cam racing shots (Luck). Bill as a vampire punk (True Blood). Jackie Mason telling Adrian Chiles: “I wouldn’t make fun of a person because he looks bad; you notice I didn’t make fun of you.”

SEPARATED at birth: Martin Lewis and Zachary Quinto? One a strange alien presence, the other Mr Spock.

QUOTE of the week? Robin Cousins, talking about Jennifer Ellison’s skating, said: “Just doing a little flick makes the whole thing go a lot harder.” Not in my experience, but each to their own.

Feb 12. C4 satirical show 10 O’Clock Live bounced back last week, promising to be “provocative, clever and funny.” Which would be a first; series one delivered none of the above. It was a case of 10 O’Clock Live, 10.05 Dead In The Water. Viewers vanished quicker than a Cameron veto, and there was little here to win ’em back.

Jimmy Carr’s opening monologue kicked off with a lame gag about Fabio Capello “going back to what he does best, making delicious if over-priced apple juice.” Copella, geddit? Groan. Carr then heaped childish insults on John Terry, followed by feeble half-jokes about Syria, RBS bonuses, Abu Qatada (who he defended), and the Diamond Jubilee. The Queen he said had asked Elton John to play ‘Candle In The Wind’ “because it always makes her laugh.” Thirteen people credited as writers and this is the best they can do?

The show proceeded predictably with “savage wit” (rhyming slang) Charlton Brooker laying into the Queen some more. We should “replace her with a cat,” he said. Be still my aching sides. They’ve axed some regular items, but the skits are still feeble. Tthe only funny thing about Carr as Vladimir Putin was he looked more like Ian Lavender – stupid boy.

David Mitchell told us he hates football, again, and wheeled on former spin-doctor Alastair Campbell to debate the beautiful game (goodbye satire). Only Lauren Laverne challenged the prevailing liberal group-think by pointing out that the recent spate of banker-bashing had caused share prices to plummet. None of the other views expressed were surprising, or ‘provocative’ or clever. A real satirical show would have been all over the escalating Euro crisis like JFK on a teenage mistress. A real satirical show would forensically target our useless party leaders and flip the finger MIA style at the genuine centres of modern power, Brussels and Strasbourg. But this isn’t satire. It’s just a vehicle for four over-paid, over-praised nitwits to sneer at things the chattering class dislike. It’s smug, self-righteous, cod-angry codswallop. At least Mark Steel and Christopher Booker believe in something.

FUR fang’s sake, how can Being Human survive without Aidan Turner and Russell Tovey? The show was about a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost sharing a house – kind of This Life meets the afterlife. Now only Annie the ghost is left, and she’s as wet as ectoplasm. Writer Toby Whithouse has upped the, ahem, stakes by bringing in a 25-year battle against an un-dead world take-over. The baddies are an ancient order of vampires called the Old Ones – think the FA with sharper false teeth. And ‘war baby’ Eve, the fully human spawn of two rutting werewolves – George and Nina – is destined to lead mankind’s resistance. We know this cos Mark Williams as a slapstick vampire seer read it on antique parchment made of human skin (the Daily Telegraph?) George sacrificed himself to save the kid; Nina was killed off-screen - disappointing because she irritated the hell out of me. So now Annie and werewolf Tom have been left holding the baby messiah, with new-boy Hal coming in to make up a new unholy trinity. If these three click, the show has legs. If not, dust out the ‘suck’ puns.

*THE biggest downer is Whithouse’s vision of Britain in 2037. It’s like a cross between the Terminator and downtown Syria. So presumably we’ll have joined the Euro by then...

SOOKIE was literally away with the fairies on True Blood. The long-suffering telepathic waitress/temptress surfaced at a weird party full of happy elfin folk chomping on luminous fruit. It was like a 1970s TV advert for feminine hygiene shot by Noel Fielding with a hang-over. Or a bad acid trip – as a fairy turned into an evil goblin before her eyes. (Usually the gobbling on this show is more fun). She legged it, for elf & safety reasons (sorry) back to Bon Temps where a whole year’s passed. Now her brother’s a cop, a loon is trying to raise the dead and her best mate Tara has become a lesbian cage-fighter. (Well it could happen to any girl after a fling with a half-crazed control freak vampire-rapist.) Funniest moment? Vampires Eric and Bill hitting the campaign trail. It was like the US Republican presidential race but slightly more human.

HOT on TV: Bomber Boys... Leverage (FX)... Madonna’s Super Bowl spectacular... England rugby come-back... The Cricklewood Greats (BBC4).

ROT on TV: Roger & Val Have Just Got In – a million viewers just turned off... Jedward’s Big Adventure (CBBC)... BBC2’s The Fixer – nothing like the ITV version.

*DID you see those topless women on Newsnight? The show hasn’t exposed massive boobs like this since that Michael Howard interview. Paxo was talking implants of course, but you did wonder whether some weird swap was under-way and that if you switched over to TVX Amateur you might find Theresa May airing her ministerial briefs.

*LESS than an hour after revealing her marriage was over, Loose Women’s Denise Welch asked John Bishop: “Ever ridden a bike?” Blimey Den, full marks for energy.

*DENISE broke down in tears on Monday. Nothing to do with her marriage, she’d just found out that Tuesday’s guests were Gok Wan and Caroline Quentin. Again.

*ANY truth in the rumour that husband Tim Healy decided on a divorce after he caught her in bed with a meter reader and she begged him not to tell the milkman?

*DAMMIT, something is ruining my enjoyment of Call The Midwife. It’s called testosterone... My mate watched two episodes back to back; ten minutes into the second one, even he’d dilated.

*KEVIN Bridges: What’s The Story? What’s the point? A promising comic but just do the jokes.

*ON Whitechapel, the killer kept his murderous weapon down his leg. Tom Jones made a career out of that. The killer was a builder: Don’t Get Dom, Get Done.

RANDOM irritations: England sports teams having to sing the British national anthem. Michael Moon. Metric measurements on Call The Midwife. Dismal direction on Dancing On Ice, how many times must we see that same aerial shot? The BBC deciding Abu Qatada is a “radical” rather than a murderous, terror-endorsing extremist, so what does that make Crippen, an alternative health specialist?

CELEB Maths: Andy Warhol + Fat Pat = Karl Lagerfeld.

SMALL Joys of TV: Ilithyia in the bath (Spartacus), talk about wears the soap. Nelix on Voyager apparently choosing “the selected works of Durex” as his favourite book. “Durex is essential,” he said. Especially when bedding a Klingon.

*WHY does TV celebrate super-smart animals and super-dumb humans?

*LESBIANS in the next series of Upstairs Downstairs? Strewth. I expect they’ll spend a lot of time going downstairs.

FEB 5. BY Jupiter’s cod-piece, Spartacus is back – the slave revolt saga where most of the uprisings happen under the toga. The story kicked off with Spartacus: Blood & Sand although in truth the sand didn’t get much of a look-in. It was all Blood & Bonking, a theme enthusiastically continued in Spartacus: Vengeance. The gladiators’ violent raid on a whorehouse orgy brought new meaning to the term Coitus Interruptus. I’m no expert on orgies, but even Berlusconi can’t have partied like this. In one eye-watering scene, a tart wearing a large and suspiciously modern-looking dildo took a male guest unexpectedly from the rear. Strap up! That’s gotta hurt. But not as much as the geezer who had a sword burst through his neck while he was pleasuring himself. Not the kind of surprise shaft he was hoping for...

The real Spartacus must be spinning on his cross, and yet there is much to enjoy about this series. It’s like Up Pompeii meets 300 with buckets of claret and free-style swearing. Spurt and cuss if you like. Series one ended with the glads spectacularly slaughtering their devious master Batiatus (brilliant John Hannah). Series two was delayed by star Andy Whitfield’s battle with cancer, a battle he sadly lost. New guy Liam McIntyre is out to fill the Thracian’s sandals. He looks the part but lacks the melancholy Whitfield brought to the role. Although in fairness he is bedding Katrina Law and that would cheer anyone up.

Sparty still wants revenge on Gaius Claudius Glaber, the creep who sold him and his late wife into slavery. Gaius and his randy strumpet of a missus Ilithyia – the original Lay of Ancient Rome – take over the old Batiatus place and are stunned to find that Lucretia (Lucy Lawless) is still around. She’d survived the series one bloodbath ending possibly thanks to a medical procedure known as pay negotiation surgery. Her lover Crixus had sliced her belly open, killing their unborn child, but leaving her alive if unhinged. Doctore is back too. While newbie Seppius is lusting after his own saucy minx of a sister Seppia. And if that’s not enough for you, may the gods piddle on your joyless souls for eternity.

THERE’S a new kid on the TOWIE block: Diags, a youth so spotty that if he ever drops off in a library he’s likely to come round to find blind people reading his face. He’s called Diags because he has a diagonal mouth. Neither Lauren Pope nor Georgina were sure which way diagonal was. (Quick clue, girls: if his gob looks like a castle arrow slit, it’s vertical.) IQs are still in short supply in this part of Essex. Here’s Joe and Diags discussing Georgina in their private slang: “She’s aroo”, “Arrataroo.” Fascinating. In any normal bar, the staff would provide colouring books and crayons to keep them quiet. The new series kicked off with two love splits, with Arg/Lydia and Marco/Lucy taking the traditional Mark and Lauren roles. The show is running out of ideas, as well as viewers. Face it, “Chihuahua yoga” is no substitute for the vajazzle.

*NEW girl Georgie claims she can get ready to go out in twenty minutes. If I were Joey I’d be checking the old Gregory Peck for an Adam’s apple.

BOUNCERS looked at Newport doormen dealing with the city’s drunken flotsam and jetsam - “classy birds” with tree-trunk legs and pot-plant IQs. Suffice to say Mr. Darcy would not find his perfect bride here. Bouncer Joe barred one delicate flower after finding her pleasuring her fella in the gents while taking a dump. Not the sort of girl to take home to Mum, but grandad might appreciate it.

* NEWPORT seems to be a Mecca for the sort of charmers who find their way through to the X Factor auditions en route to Jeremy Kyle. Give that trappy tracksuit twerp some backing music and Louis Walsh would sign him on the spot.

* CELEB Maths: Craig Colton + Rik Waller = Geraint on Bouncers.

HOT on TV: Inside Job... Jane Danson (Corrie)... Mrs. Brown’s Boys... new Spartacus.

ROT on TV: Luxury Comedy – mighty tosh... Prisoners’ Wives – a long stretch... Raymond Blanc – horribly over-cooked.

DAVID Schneider was scary as a suspected serial killer on Whitechapel, almost as scary as his 1980s comedy routine...but bringing in oddball Edward as in-house police researcher stretches credulity too far. On the plus side DS Ray Miles still brings his boss down to earth with world weary sarcasm. “If you could have 200 years of experience what kind of detective would you be?” asked plummy DI Joe. “One gagging for retirement,” quipped Ray.

*NEW horror in EastEnders as we got to see scenes of Heather Trott post-coitus. Strewth, no more please. Even George Michael must be thinking: wake me up after she’s gone-gone.

*SO, Miss Piggy is in the country and suddenly Sharon is coming back to EastEnders... coincidence?

HOW Brits Rocked America reminded us how British rock bands - Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Deep Purple – ruled the roost. They had class, power and imagination. And now we’ve got Jedward. Well done, everyone.

*ON Dancing On Ice, Tony Gubba spotted a “modified forward inside death spiral.” And we’ve not seen one of those since the Sopranos.

*A WOMAN’S rare medical condition means she can sing but can’t talk. Doctors call this Reverse Geri Halliwell Syndrome.

*THE BBC’s Great Expectations left out the humour, it’s said. See also The Royal Bodyguard, Coming Of Age, The Stephen K. Amos Show...

*FACT: eventually there will come a time when everyone in Britain has been on a TV talent show. Then we can get back to watching professionals.

SMALL joys of TV: Daily 7 of 9 (Voyager). Nanny Pat (TOWIE). Bouncers – doing for Newport tourism what the Cairo away crew did for Egyptian football. God Bless Ozzy Osbourne – illustrating the thin line between mega-stardom and living in a cardboard box.

RANDOM irritations: BBC Breakfast presenters banging on about not understanding social networking – keep up or give up. BBC’s Putin series made by a former Kremlin PR.

TV questions: Why wasn’t This Morning’s man-eating tranny Crystal on World’s Scariest Near Misses? If Simon Cowell spends two hours in the bath, how long might he spend in a closet? In My Transsexual Summer, which ones were the opposite sex?

SEPARATED at birth: Hugh Bonneville and Paul Burrell, one Downton Abbey, the other downright shabby. One famous for concealing objects and (Cut! – Ed)

ITV Sunday, 9.30pm: Dancing On Ice – The Skate-Off. 10pm That Sunday Night Show – The Turn-Off.