Kittens, I love AI more than rappers love Hennessy, so it pains me to say what I’m about to say. I want my two hours back. I want to unsee last night’s episode. It was worse than bad, because bad is good in AI land. Bad is Sanjaya raping the Kinks and freaking Gwen Stefani so far out that I don’t think she’s ever been right again. Bad is Chicken Little singing Part Time Lover and John Stevens looking like he’s heading off to the firing squad on Gloria Estefan night. Bad is Constantine eye-fucking his way through Bohemian Rhapsody and Camille forgetting every one of the 50,000 words in Goodbye to Yellow Brick Road. Bad is anything Nikki McKibbin ever did on this show. And that shit is brilliant. But last night? Last night was boring. Last night was not even bad enough to be interesting. And that is a killer for this show. When it stops being a train wreck and turns into me switching between the show and reruns of Will and Grace, then y’all, shit is bad. We’re halfway through the semi-finals and there are exactly two people that I’m in love with, one of whom is technically not in the Top 12 yet. And I’m so mad about that, I could spit nails. I mean, talk about crappy bad luck for Anoop, Ricky . . . hell even Tatiana was better last week. It’s tight around here, noodles.
But you know what made me really scared for this show? The judges were on fire last night. They had one cracked out, producer manipulated moment (Throwing Jesse under the bus like that. How could you?) but for the most part, they told these kids some home truths. Paula passed up an opportunity to do her sunshine and rainbows thing to kick it to Simon so he could crush a child’s dream. Randy got in a supremely awesome burn on Jeanine Vailes that made me laugh out loud. Hell, even the Karababble halfway made sense and was relevant and on point most of the night. All surefire signs that the apocalypse is upon us. Not even the Dawg’s pitiful mini-medallion or Paula’s maxi-wig and icicle shirt could make me hate on the judge’s panel. It’s a crazy, mixed up world we’re living in. So without further ado, I give to you the three people who were actually worth even a little something last night and then everyone else we hated and why.
Shine-ola
Allison Iraheta/Alone – I maintain that no one should ever sing this song on the Idol stage since Carrie officially made it her bitch in season 5. That said, Manic Panic Chola threw down on this performance. I was really impressed. This song is ridiculously range-y, and yet I never felt like she was scraping along her lower register. And the belt-y parts, well, that little girl is packing a whole lotta voice. On the flip side, she needs media training more than anyone in the history of ever. That pre-song interview session with Ryan was painful, as was the after-song patter. I was uncomfortable. And with the pressure of the season, I fear that she’s only going to get worse, not better. Yet another example of why 16 year olds have no business on this show. But whatever. For now, Manic Panic is rocking my world. She and Anouk are my main reasons for having a glimmer of hope for the Top 12.
Adam Lambert/Satisfaction – Kiddies, check the numerous rings and the five million swap meet chains. Look at the single, fingerless glove. My god, this fool was so over the top and I loved every second of it! Finally, at the tail end of the night when even Judge #4 was tired of saying “commercial” or “package” one more time, we got excitement. We got drama. We got a performer. To which I say, hell, yeah! Was Simon right that it was kind of exhausting and bombastically gross in ways that made me feel unsettled that I liked it so much? Well, of course it was, kittens. But that’s what’s good and right about this show, in the same way that Nick/Norman Mitchell/Gentle is the ugly flipside of this very same coin. Mr. Wicked knows that he is patently gaudy and ridiculous and he invites us to share in it, too, with a wink and a crotch grab. And the boy can just flat out blow. I did not need for him to shout at me, but I loved it when he did. And I’m sure I’ll be over this fool eventually, and maybe I wouldn’t have loved that so much if everyone else last night hadn’t been so terribly, tragically boring. But for now at least, I appreciated that somebody came to play.
Jesse Langseth/Bette Davis Eyes – Kiddies, there really was something magical about that Some Kind of Wonderful group during Hollywood Week, no? I’ve been grooving on this girl ever since then, and she did not disappoint. This was by far the best song choice of the night, perfect for her voice and her vibe. And I loved the performance, the look, the hair, everything. I loved everything about it. And then the judges came in with the undersell of the century. You could see Simon Fuller pulling the puppet strings here, fighting to get his tattoo sleeved package into the Top 12 despite her lackluster singing and heinous dancing. And seriously, the worst that the judges could say is that she was too cool? I mean, I’ll grant that the song doesn’t show off a ton of range, but it is a super hard song to sing, which is why people not named Kim Carnes rarely try to sing it. So give her her props and stop sandbagging her, mmmkay?
Shit
So we have a couple of levels to shovel out from under, noodles. There were those that I wanted to be good, but sadly were not; those that I had no opinion about before and deservedly so; and those that I hated and knew would be bad and sure as shootin’ were bad. Let’s take them in that order.
Jasmine Murray/Love Song – As soon as this was announced as the pick, I knew that it was not going to go well with this young one. The song started out way too low for her, which caused the whole thing to be slightly under the key. And honestly, this was so the wrong song for her. I hate to sound like the broken record that song choice has become this season, but really, you cannot “black up” this song. All right thinking people must say "no" to the unnecessary runs and trying to riff on the melody. The charm of this song is in its simplicity. Sit at a piano and sing it straight and earnestly. This song will not show up on your urban radio, I don’t care how many extra notes you shove into the word “love”. Sigh. And the sad thing is that she’s still just as cute as a button with her plastered on make up. I totally agreed with the judges that with a few more years of seasoning under her belt she would not have made the mistake that’s going to get her eliminated. She might’ve made another one and wound up like the 28 year old street walker we’ll get to in a minute, but she wouldn’t have made this one. Reason #5,000,000,000 why 16 year olds should not be put on this show. Bye, bye cutie pie. I’ll see you in the pages of King magazine.
Jeanine Vailes/This Love – I was excited for this girl, kittens, purely because they kept showing us clips of her sitting around being ridiculously beautiful. It quickly became apparent why they never showed her actually singing, but before we get into that, can we deal with the look? Because seriously, kiddies, that wasn’t even right. She’s a beautiful girl and they made her look like . . . well, like a street walker. The troweled on make up with the base that wasn’t even the right shade and made her look like she was about to do some awesomely tragic Kabuki theater? The blow out? Why, AI? Obviously, you have no black people on your hair and make up staff. Please get some, stat. And the clothes. Ladies, when your blazer is longer than your shorts, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong. This is a family show. We don’t want to see your hooha. My mind was screaming before she even opened her mouth. And then out came this non-song. Now, I actually enjoy Maroon 5. Not so much that I would ever buy any of their output or monetarily support them in any way, but I appreciate the pretty and the kinda pop distraction of their music. But it really only works because Adam Levine is a supremely lovely white boy in that particular, girly way that some white boys have where you know that even though they don’t look like it, they can totally get down in bed and that kind of incongruity is dead sexy. And this song works because of that whole Adam Levine thing, not because it’s an actual good song. So out comes this terrible song with the cheesy arrangement that, I assume, is just the industry staple this year and then this caterwauling voice that let’s you know that Little Simon pushed this pick through from the jump, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. And what else is there really to say about this performance? Alright, then.
Serial Killer/Some Song I Don’t Know – Y’all, Matt Brietzke has a pleasant bar band singer voice which, on a show that just gave us a winner with a pleasant bar band singer voice last season, should be enough to get him a ticket to the Top 12. So, it’s a damn shame that this fool looks like a serial killer. Kittens, you know it’s bad when even his baby looks like a serial killer. I mean, seriously, I would not let my child go down the slide with that kid. It might come back missing a limb. So along came Matt last night singing some bland, mid-tempo song in a workmanlike way and in tune, which was a rare gift with that particular group of contestants, and what happens? I couldn’t even look at him. Grinning and covered in flop sweat and looking like he wanted to eat my liver. Nightmares, y’all. Nightmares. It wouldn’t have mattered what he sang, because I just really cannot deal with him. I’ll be so glad when he goes.
Kris Allen/Man in the Mirror – I have no memory of this kid from earlier rounds, which is really his problem in a nutshell. Put aside that he picked perhaps the worst song from the late MJ pre-Jesus Juice/Vitiligo on the penis era and that he rocked the D’archie style Member’s Only jacket, this kid has no sparkle. He’s pretty enough, and his in tune to flat ratio was better than a lot of the 24 kids we’ve seen so far. But I found nothing compelling in that performance or in the jumpy, squat dancing or in the squinched up faces he was making. Paula might have loved it, but I think her weave was obstructing her hearing just a touch. And Simon sometimes just likes to throw salt in the game. And he will forgive a lot for the pretty, male or female, as will I, which is why we get on so famously. I wouldn’t be opposed to this kid getting a wild card and another shot to win me over. I just doubt that he could do it.
Mishavonna Henson/Drops of Jupiter – Another one who I had no prior memory of, and she sang a song previously performed by Ace Young, which automatically brings up questions for me about her taste level. And she couldn’t even cheesily point to the scar on her chest while singing the line about the permanent scar, so if you’re already not going to be able to top an Ace Young performance, then, friends and fans, you are in some serious trouble. So she had a pretty voice and she sang and she didn’t fall off pitch until the very, very end there and she stood around in her bubble skirt/black capri leggings combo outfit and bored me to tears. The entire performance was completely uninteresting and her lack of star quality caused Simon and Paula to fall back into their inappropriate sexual shenanigans which is wholly unacceptable. And now if the judges do bring her back for the wild card round, she will break her neck to prove that she’s “zany” and “young” and overflowing with “personality” and she will tip all the way over into annoying and crazy and she won’t make the Top 12 anyway. So, I hope that the judges save us all a lot of time and trouble by not bringing her back for the wild card round (since ain’t no way she’s getting voted in) even though she technically had the fourth best vocal of the night. Don’t you agree?
And now for the straight up hating portion of our show which is fully one third of the contestants that we saw last night, and kittens, that’s so sad. It’s like Group Two was specially designed to hurt my feelings.
Matt Giraud/Viva La Vida – I hate this kid so much and his out of control, goat-y vibrato and his whole white boy soul vibe. Ugh. Jerky and uncomfortable was how Simon described the performance but that could just as easily describe the whole Matt Giraud persona. And I was going to say something about why this song only works for Coldplay, but the truth is that this song just doesn’t work and it continually baffles me that it became a big hit. I blame Apple (the company and the kid). So anyway, hate the song, hate Matt Giraud. Go back to your dueling piano bar. You are dismissed. (Of course, I’m petrified that he’ll get through now)
Megan Corkery/Put Your Records On – I hate this girl so much and her white girl faux jazz funk vibe and her tattoo sleeve rebel shtick. I know the judges look at this girl and smell money, but I cannot take her and her ridiculous flailing and her white pom pom twirling and ballet flats and out of tune, all nasally up in her nasal singing. She sucks tremendous amounts of ass. She even picked a song designed to make it OK to not be able to sing very well. (Thanks, Corinne Bailey Rae! If I ever meet you in a dark alley, you best guard your grill) And still, she managed to sound terrible while smiling at me with her big white teeth. So of course I’m petrified she’ll get through. Kiddies, it could so easily wind up Adam, Matt and Megan tonight rather than Adam, Allison and Jesse as the lord intended. And if that happens, I will have to start breaking dishes and go all ring the alarm on America. You have been warned.
Kai Kalama/What Becomes of the Broken Hearted – The hair monster continued to be no better than a subway singer. If I walked by him, I might flip a quarter into his guitar case, but he only has a fair to middlin’ voice and he’s never, never, ever going to be a star. As Paula so wonderfully explained, he was on pitch during that performance, except when he wasn’t (And don’t ever change Pau Pau. We love you!) but Simon was right, as usual. This fool’s a back up singer, at best. Mom? Still gorgeous. At least he’ll always have that.
Nick/Norman Mitchell/Gentle/And I Am Telling You – Whatever its faults, the show is better than this.
So it should be easy tonight. Adam, Allison and Jesse were the only three who didn’t commit some horrible crime against music. But having seen the shadiness that landed He-Man Oilman a Top 12 slot over Anoop, who knows what America has wrought? We’ll find out in a couple of hours, though I don’t know if I’m ready for a group sing if this is the group. A true test of the power of the pointy pose awaits.
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