Noodles, let’s deal with the Adam thing quickly because I have to talk about the real crime last night. Being in the B3 wasn’t some big shock. Color me unsurprised. As I said in my recap, the vocals on that song were less than his usual perfection and it worked for me, but much like the Ring of Fire performance, I can bet that there was more than one Midwestern household whose occupants were going “What the fuck was that?” after he got done. B2 was a little surprising, but that just shows that Kris has got some serious juice. Boy has been a comer all season long so please do not sleep on the lovely and talented Mr. Allen. And ultimately, time in the B3 will be good for our little alien glam boy/girl sex god. You could tell by his attitude (and the perfectly delicious backstage footage of Kris and Adam having a flirty little pow wow) that he was really not caring all that much. But his fans will care a lot and will be motivated to get off their skinny jeans clad butts, stop counting their glitter covered chickens before they hatch, and actually vote this fool into the finale where he belongs.
No kittens, none of the purportedly OMG stuff from last night was really all that heart stopping. What really shocked the conscience was the blatant attempt to make us believe that somehow the Dawg and Judge #4 are more than random wastes of space and air time at the end of the row down from Simon and his increasing irrelevance and desperate attempts to cling to a time when he was young and fit enough to rock a tight, white tee and Paula’s ever more brazen breasts. I’m sorry; I’m just not buying it. Ryan, you’re my favorite wee closet gay of all time and I would drink your bath water, but you will never, never convince me that Judge #4 has an intelligence level above most single celled organisms, especially not when she admits to blowing one of your contestants on the regular on live national television. And when the best advice that the Dawg can come up with for a man with a mini-teeth/mini-hair tumor hidden under a bucket hat and a serious case of goat voice vibrato is to “continue to make it hot?” Yeah. Useless. Simon would have to come up there and dribble into a sippy cup for the next three thousand seasons to make a smackdown between him and the dynamic duo even a remotely fair fight. Egregious, darlings.
The rest of last night’s show was just kind of there, no? Now that Lil and her stank face are gone, the kids actually did the group sing live completely putting the lie to the producer’s excuse that the schedule was just so demanding that they couldn’t possibly learn a routine that any half way decent HS show choir could master in an afternoon. (Watch Glee and make your blogger really, really happy, kittens!) And let me tell you, the fact that we had weeks and weeks of lip synched crap because people like Lil and White Stevie Wonder and Tattoo Sleeve did not have the vocal chops to stay in tune during a one minute medley chaps my ass more than any brief sojourn that Adam takes in the B3, darlings. Trust. So anyway, the kids sang. They all sounded lovely because they have actual talent. Kris looked like the cutest farmhand you’ve ever seen. Adam looked like he didn’t really want to be there. And Frikkin’ Gokey continued to be disturbingly hot and if someone could tell me how to make that stop, I’d be most appreciative. Kisses.
Then the kids continued to look ridiculously beautiful in the pimpmercial, which was one of the better ones with the cool black and white cinematography and the fade into a full color shot of the inhumanly beautiful face of one Kris Allen. And on the real, kiddies? Hotter than the sun! It’s not possible to be that beautiful.
Then we had not one, not two, but three pointless guest performances because the results show has to be an hour or else the world will implode or something. Natalie Cole looked insanely skinny but somehow still amazing despite wearing gold Glad Bags as a dress, but she has some kind of consumption so I will give her a pass. Her voice sounded like ass, but she still managed to rock the hell out of Something’s Gotta Give because she’s a fucking pro. AI-lettes, take notes. She and Ryan then babbled about Korea and Orange County and I don’t know if that was secretly a little bit racist, but I think it might have been. Sadly, Jamie Foxx was just as bad live as he always is, and for the love of god, will someone please murder T-Pain and bury all of his vocoders so deep in the desert that they will never be recovered already? That shit is killing modern urban radio, noodles. Taylor Hicks was there and I refuse. That’s all.
So after a lot of shenanigans and the millionth played out rendition of the Annual “Stand with the Group of Non-Losers” Bo Bice Memorial Sit On the Stage Invitational (which Adam refused to play and god love him for it), a teary eyed Matt G. was sent home. And a weary, goat voice, vibrato battered nation was grateful.
Slash and Adam in the same universe is turning my brain into mushy goop as we speak and I’m loving it. The theme is right and the players set for the longed for Gokey boot. Let’s see what happens next week, shall we?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep15 The Best Is Yet to Come, Come the Day You’re Mine
Kittens, not only was this the best Idol episode this entire season, it might be one of the top Idol Finals episodes of all time. No lie. I’m still on a contact high from the awesomeness of the kids. And seriously, can there be any doubt that this top 5 is, top to bottom, the best of all time? I mean, in S1, we were still dealing with the likes of RJ and Nikki McKibbin in the top 5. S2? We hadn’t even kicked Josh Gracin to the curb by the time we reached top 5. Jasmine Trias from Hawai’i committed heinous acts against innocent standards on Big Band Night in the S3 top 5. S4? We were still dealing with A Fed and Scott “Serial Killer” Savol. S5? Well, Taylor was the winner of the whole season, so there you go. The last three seasons have seen a consistent bump in quality once we reached top 5 territory, but darlings, I think we’ve got the cream right here. When a perfectly serviceable performance by Goat Boy is the worst that the kids serve up on the night, you know we have something special cooking. Let’s dissect the elements of an awesome night of reality TV, shall we?
Wardrobe, Hair and Make Up
Darlings, I’ve been hard on the crack whores in wardrobe and the angry trannys in hair and make up this season. I know. I’m not ready to put all that behind me just yet. (After all, they did put Paula in a dress that looked like a used maxi-pad with wings) But dammit, the kids looked gorgeous last night. Ryan continued to kill it as he has done all season long, but noodles, don’t we all know that nary an AI hand ever touches a hair on the metrosexual’s metrosexual? What warmed the cockles of my black little heart was that Adam and Kris continued to define sexy in completely different but equally yummy ways. And the fact that the more I hate Gokey, the hotter he gets. Next week, I expect him to spontaneously combust into a pool of goateed hotness and smarm. But my favorite, oh by far my favorite, was our little Manic Panic chola. Was that a toned down, almost restrained shade of pink with tasteful, black lowlights on her head? Was she rocking a gorgeous black and white chiffon skirt and black bustier that was elegant and yet age appropriate? Did she almost remind one of the late, great Ms. Diana Vreeland in her carefully chosen chunky and whimsical accessories? (Loved the rings most especially) What? Noodles, we loved, no? Even Matt, with Vonn Smith’s stolen bucket hat and an ill fitted suit (Why, hello, too much cuff!), made an attempt to look appropriately Rat Pack-ian. Many, many snaps, tranny/hos. I don’t know how long you can keep this up, but for one night, you were magnificent.
Ricky Minor and the Band
Simon only noted the boffo arrangement laid down for Gokey, but Ricky and Co. had their best outing of the season last night, much like their charges did, no? They caressed those notes on Allison’s tender take on Someone to Watch Over Me. They were mellifluous as Kris sexily oozed his way through The Way You Look Tonight. They commanded the stage as Danny went crazy on the end of Come Rain or Come Shine. And when Adam Lambert came sexy swaggering down those red lit stairs on Feelin’ Good, the music was saucy, sassy, and dead sexy over the top, much like the man who was sauntering right out of our dreams and into our pants. And while Matt’s chops weren’t quite up to the task, I thought the arrangement on My Funny Valentine was first rate. Sad about the key change fiasco. We all know who to blame it on, don’t we kiddies? Which brings us to . . .
Kick Ass Mentor
So Jamie Foxx wanted to throw Kris to the ground and ravish him and then take him on tour for some free range booty on tap, was bedazzled by Adam and his “FIGJAM but you like it” ways, struggled with the fact that Allison is a tremendous vocal talent yet kind of a cipher in real life, was dying to get up in Frikkin’ Gokey’s grill and smack the smug right out of him, and sabotaged Matt? He’s OK by me, kittens. Let’s just get Jamie to come ‘round every week and talk real talk to these fools, shall we? I can even forgive him for giving perhaps the most spectacularly misguided and wrong headed advice in the history of Idol mentors to Matt. If I know only one thing, it is that the verses to My Funny Valentine will scrape against the bottom of anyone’s lower register, while the bridge and chorus will take you right past your upper register if you let them. The trick is to sing the verse a step above your natural key and then find a way to arrange the song so that you can come in on the chorus and the bridge maybe a half step lower so you don’t strain for the notes. Everyone who’s ever tried to sing along with Chaka Khan knows this. So what the hell kind of mentoring was that, Jamie Foxx? The kind of mentoring that doesn’t actually mentor. Not everyone has access to Pro-Trax and a vocoder, mmmkay? That said, if he helps finally, finally rid us of the goat voice vibrato, I will love him even more than I already did for the Miley Cyrus beatdown.
Great Songs Sung Greatly
Set aside the fact that I highly doubt that any of these songs were ever in a Rat Pack set list, y’all. The kids just uniformly made good choices last night. Songs that fit their voices and personalities. And for the most part, they knocked it out vocally.
Kris Allen/The Way You Look Tonight – Hotter than the sun. I loved how he started out soft and slow and then changed up the tempo mid-song to a nice rhythmic groove and rode that all the way out to the last note and steamy stare into the camera. And if that sounded like I was talking about sex, well, I was. Noodles, I think Simon and I might’ve both used the adjective “wet” to describe that performance but in completely different contexts. Can I say that I loved it? Kris has hit his grown and sexy stride.
Allison Iraheta/Someone to Watch Over Me – This kid sings so over her head. It’s ridiculous, really, is what it is. Depth, passion, emotion, connection. Manic Panic laid it all out on that stage last night. The performance was breathtaking. And then she opened her mouth to speak. Kittens, I totally got what Simon was saying. There is a difference between thinking you can win and thinking you will win. Can win still admits the possibility of can’t win. Will win leaves no room for doubt. And will win is what brings the confetti shower at the end of the season in this competition. Now, there is such a thing as too smug will win (See Gokey, Frikkin’ or Fivehead) but that, too, is often what brings the confetti shower. If Manic Panic doesn’t find a way to bring “Performance Allison” into “Live Interview Allison” real soon, she’s gonna find out what fourth feels like.
Random side note: The Dawg pulled out a Brittany Murphy reference? Clueless era or Bobble Head era? And does it even matter? Who references Brittany Murphy in any context whatsoever? That one, throw away line explains sooo much about why Randy Jackson is the pathetic creature that he is.
Matt Giraud/My Funny Valentine – He coulda been a contender, but he listened to Jamie Foxx and now he’s just a bum. And once again, Simon forces me to agree with the Dawg and Judge #4 which means that we are so not friends right now. The key change screwed him utterly on the verses and forced him to scrape along the absolute limits of his lower register, which made him sound out of tune and pitchy. The choruses were fine and even some of the runs were pretty, but, as the Dawg noted, some of them just didn’t quite get there because he was coming into them already in the wrong key. It was a muddle of a performance, is what it was. I will give Simon a sliver of a point back because I did feel that Matt was emotionally connected to this song. And yes, haters, the phrasing was excellent – unexpected and not a copycat of other singers on a well known song that’s impossibly hard to make sound new and fresh. I won’t be sad to see the end of Goat Boy, but I will be sad that he went down following not his own musical instincts but through the diabolical machinations of one Jamie Foxx.
Frikkin Gokey/Come Rain or Come Shine – Love the song choice. Loved the voice. Loved the way the song crescendoed at the end and just allowed him to go full throttle and unleash that gorgeous gift of an instrument. Loved that he toned it down, for him, and kept the cheese factor at bay during the performance. And then, Wham! Darlings, did he just clap for himself? Did he just thank the audience like Jamie Foxx was gonna jump on stage and hand him a fucking Oscar? Did he just congratulate himself for taking Simon’s advice and being even more awesome this week than he usually is? Did he just do the fucking heart hands again? Oh, it’s on, bitch! Do not think you can dazzle me with your voice and I’ll forget about how much of a tool you really are. Frikkin’ Gokey. Can we get that surprise elimination now, please?
Adam Lambert/Feelin’ Good – I honestly don’t have any more words about Adam. He went the farthest off theme of any of the kids last night. The vocals were not pristine, definitely a little pitch problem on the first verse. He may have been the most ridiculously over the top that he’s been since doing Ring of Fire. And I was mesmerized. When he smoldered into that camera as the lights went down and he glistened red like the devil himself come to lead us all into damnation, all I could think of was, “I want me some of that demon ass!” He is magic and already beyond a superstar and into a supernova phenomenon. But kittens, I’m not one of those ones who’s all “I don’t even care if he wins, I just want to see him each week.” Or even worse yet one of those, “It would be better for him if he didn’t win because then he could make the kind of music he really wants to make and not be beholden to 19E.” Fuck that noise. If Adam doesn’t win, the heavens will crumble. The skies will turn black and the rivers run red and all of creation will rebel at the injustice of it all.
And then we’ll be distracted because Glee is having a sneak preview and So You Think You Can Dance is coming back. But I really want Adam to win all the same, noodles. Don’t you?
Rock Week without Allison? That’s unpossible. I hope y’all did the right thing.
Wardrobe, Hair and Make Up
Darlings, I’ve been hard on the crack whores in wardrobe and the angry trannys in hair and make up this season. I know. I’m not ready to put all that behind me just yet. (After all, they did put Paula in a dress that looked like a used maxi-pad with wings) But dammit, the kids looked gorgeous last night. Ryan continued to kill it as he has done all season long, but noodles, don’t we all know that nary an AI hand ever touches a hair on the metrosexual’s metrosexual? What warmed the cockles of my black little heart was that Adam and Kris continued to define sexy in completely different but equally yummy ways. And the fact that the more I hate Gokey, the hotter he gets. Next week, I expect him to spontaneously combust into a pool of goateed hotness and smarm. But my favorite, oh by far my favorite, was our little Manic Panic chola. Was that a toned down, almost restrained shade of pink with tasteful, black lowlights on her head? Was she rocking a gorgeous black and white chiffon skirt and black bustier that was elegant and yet age appropriate? Did she almost remind one of the late, great Ms. Diana Vreeland in her carefully chosen chunky and whimsical accessories? (Loved the rings most especially) What? Noodles, we loved, no? Even Matt, with Vonn Smith’s stolen bucket hat and an ill fitted suit (Why, hello, too much cuff!), made an attempt to look appropriately Rat Pack-ian. Many, many snaps, tranny/hos. I don’t know how long you can keep this up, but for one night, you were magnificent.
Ricky Minor and the Band
Simon only noted the boffo arrangement laid down for Gokey, but Ricky and Co. had their best outing of the season last night, much like their charges did, no? They caressed those notes on Allison’s tender take on Someone to Watch Over Me. They were mellifluous as Kris sexily oozed his way through The Way You Look Tonight. They commanded the stage as Danny went crazy on the end of Come Rain or Come Shine. And when Adam Lambert came sexy swaggering down those red lit stairs on Feelin’ Good, the music was saucy, sassy, and dead sexy over the top, much like the man who was sauntering right out of our dreams and into our pants. And while Matt’s chops weren’t quite up to the task, I thought the arrangement on My Funny Valentine was first rate. Sad about the key change fiasco. We all know who to blame it on, don’t we kiddies? Which brings us to . . .
Kick Ass Mentor
So Jamie Foxx wanted to throw Kris to the ground and ravish him and then take him on tour for some free range booty on tap, was bedazzled by Adam and his “FIGJAM but you like it” ways, struggled with the fact that Allison is a tremendous vocal talent yet kind of a cipher in real life, was dying to get up in Frikkin’ Gokey’s grill and smack the smug right out of him, and sabotaged Matt? He’s OK by me, kittens. Let’s just get Jamie to come ‘round every week and talk real talk to these fools, shall we? I can even forgive him for giving perhaps the most spectacularly misguided and wrong headed advice in the history of Idol mentors to Matt. If I know only one thing, it is that the verses to My Funny Valentine will scrape against the bottom of anyone’s lower register, while the bridge and chorus will take you right past your upper register if you let them. The trick is to sing the verse a step above your natural key and then find a way to arrange the song so that you can come in on the chorus and the bridge maybe a half step lower so you don’t strain for the notes. Everyone who’s ever tried to sing along with Chaka Khan knows this. So what the hell kind of mentoring was that, Jamie Foxx? The kind of mentoring that doesn’t actually mentor. Not everyone has access to Pro-Trax and a vocoder, mmmkay? That said, if he helps finally, finally rid us of the goat voice vibrato, I will love him even more than I already did for the Miley Cyrus beatdown.
Great Songs Sung Greatly
Set aside the fact that I highly doubt that any of these songs were ever in a Rat Pack set list, y’all. The kids just uniformly made good choices last night. Songs that fit their voices and personalities. And for the most part, they knocked it out vocally.
Kris Allen/The Way You Look Tonight – Hotter than the sun. I loved how he started out soft and slow and then changed up the tempo mid-song to a nice rhythmic groove and rode that all the way out to the last note and steamy stare into the camera. And if that sounded like I was talking about sex, well, I was. Noodles, I think Simon and I might’ve both used the adjective “wet” to describe that performance but in completely different contexts. Can I say that I loved it? Kris has hit his grown and sexy stride.
Allison Iraheta/Someone to Watch Over Me – This kid sings so over her head. It’s ridiculous, really, is what it is. Depth, passion, emotion, connection. Manic Panic laid it all out on that stage last night. The performance was breathtaking. And then she opened her mouth to speak. Kittens, I totally got what Simon was saying. There is a difference between thinking you can win and thinking you will win. Can win still admits the possibility of can’t win. Will win leaves no room for doubt. And will win is what brings the confetti shower at the end of the season in this competition. Now, there is such a thing as too smug will win (See Gokey, Frikkin’ or Fivehead) but that, too, is often what brings the confetti shower. If Manic Panic doesn’t find a way to bring “Performance Allison” into “Live Interview Allison” real soon, she’s gonna find out what fourth feels like.
Random side note: The Dawg pulled out a Brittany Murphy reference? Clueless era or Bobble Head era? And does it even matter? Who references Brittany Murphy in any context whatsoever? That one, throw away line explains sooo much about why Randy Jackson is the pathetic creature that he is.
Matt Giraud/My Funny Valentine – He coulda been a contender, but he listened to Jamie Foxx and now he’s just a bum. And once again, Simon forces me to agree with the Dawg and Judge #4 which means that we are so not friends right now. The key change screwed him utterly on the verses and forced him to scrape along the absolute limits of his lower register, which made him sound out of tune and pitchy. The choruses were fine and even some of the runs were pretty, but, as the Dawg noted, some of them just didn’t quite get there because he was coming into them already in the wrong key. It was a muddle of a performance, is what it was. I will give Simon a sliver of a point back because I did feel that Matt was emotionally connected to this song. And yes, haters, the phrasing was excellent – unexpected and not a copycat of other singers on a well known song that’s impossibly hard to make sound new and fresh. I won’t be sad to see the end of Goat Boy, but I will be sad that he went down following not his own musical instincts but through the diabolical machinations of one Jamie Foxx.
Frikkin Gokey/Come Rain or Come Shine – Love the song choice. Loved the voice. Loved the way the song crescendoed at the end and just allowed him to go full throttle and unleash that gorgeous gift of an instrument. Loved that he toned it down, for him, and kept the cheese factor at bay during the performance. And then, Wham! Darlings, did he just clap for himself? Did he just thank the audience like Jamie Foxx was gonna jump on stage and hand him a fucking Oscar? Did he just congratulate himself for taking Simon’s advice and being even more awesome this week than he usually is? Did he just do the fucking heart hands again? Oh, it’s on, bitch! Do not think you can dazzle me with your voice and I’ll forget about how much of a tool you really are. Frikkin’ Gokey. Can we get that surprise elimination now, please?
Adam Lambert/Feelin’ Good – I honestly don’t have any more words about Adam. He went the farthest off theme of any of the kids last night. The vocals were not pristine, definitely a little pitch problem on the first verse. He may have been the most ridiculously over the top that he’s been since doing Ring of Fire. And I was mesmerized. When he smoldered into that camera as the lights went down and he glistened red like the devil himself come to lead us all into damnation, all I could think of was, “I want me some of that demon ass!” He is magic and already beyond a superstar and into a supernova phenomenon. But kittens, I’m not one of those ones who’s all “I don’t even care if he wins, I just want to see him each week.” Or even worse yet one of those, “It would be better for him if he didn’t win because then he could make the kind of music he really wants to make and not be beholden to 19E.” Fuck that noise. If Adam doesn’t win, the heavens will crumble. The skies will turn black and the rivers run red and all of creation will rebel at the injustice of it all.
And then we’ll be distracted because Glee is having a sneak preview and So You Think You Can Dance is coming back. But I really want Adam to win all the same, noodles. Don’t you?
Rock Week without Allison? That’s unpossible. I hope y’all did the right thing.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
SYTYCD Extra We Interrupt This Blog to Freak the F@%# Out
So You Think You Can Dance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
So You Think You Can Dance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I cannot wait, kittens!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled AI Blog.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
So You Think You Can Dance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I cannot wait, kittens!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled AI Blog.
American Idol S8 Extra Live & Swinging
Anoop could’ve killed with a little Dean Martin or Ol’ Blue Eyes. Oh, what might have been, kittens! And yet, I think Rat Pack Night could be oodles of fun. Adam is sure to serve it. Kris, I think, will do quite well. I have built a lot of faith in our sweet and sexy young thing since the start of the finals. Frikkin’ Gokey has a lovely voice and he could do well, but the smarm will kill me. And honestly, I think Matt could rock it tonight. In a tux with the bowtie undone, slightly disheveled and five o’clock shadow-y, tickling the ivories and with a glass of bourbon on the edge of the Baby Grand. Oh, my yes, darlings. The one I’m worried about is Allison. Not that she couldn’t do well with these songs. I mean, they’re not called classics for nothing, and she could certainly be the Shirley MacLaine to the boys Sammy and Dean. And she’s shown an ability with her take on Bonnie Raitt to connect on an emotional level with a song well beyond her years and experience. But the mush mouth pronunciation. Noodles, this will be an issue, no? Half of the beauty of great jazz and standards singing is in the phrasing and the enunciation, and she’s really kind of not so good at that. Let’s pray that the vocal coaches are on overdrive this week. You can’t go wrong with most of the Rat Pack songbook, but here’s what I’d most especially like the kids to tackle this evening. I limited myself to songs that appeared on actual live cast albums from Rat Pack performances, kittens. See how I sacrifice for you?
Adam
All the Way (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr. - The Summit in Concert 1962) – He could bring back the tender, Tears of a Clown performer on a song like this. This is a hypothetical love song, y’all, and aren’t those always the best kind? Pau Pau would be in tears before the band finished the intro.
One for My Baby (Rat Pack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – I would like to see him turn this into a techno/dance rave up. I love this song and its bluesy, boozy air of regret. Tack a good dance beat onto this and I would be over the moon.
Call Me Irresponsible (Rat Pack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – “Call me unpredictable/Tell me I’m impractical/Rainbows, I’m inclined to pursue” Kittens, it’s like the theme song to Adam’s entire life!
Who am I kidding, noodles? Adam will be amazing and I will love whatever he does. Write that across the sky for eternity, kiddies.
Allison
Goody Goody (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – It’s a song made famous by Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers. Could there be a better fit for our Manic Panic chola? I think not. Ella Fitzgerald also did a spiffy version of this song that could provide the jazzier pattern to follow that is required on Rat Pack night. This song is young and fun and flirty and I think we need to see that from Allison after a couple of weeks of more ballad-y choices.
He’s Funny That Way (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – You cannot go wrong with Lady Day and Allison has the chops to pull this song off. And honestly, with the way the crack whores and angry trannys have been styling her, is there a more appropriate lyric than “Not much to look at/nothing to see”? I think not, noodles.
A Foggy Day (The Rat Pack Live at the Sands) – This is another upbeat, fun song that really swings. Basically, I just think Allison needs to find that nugget of fun, playfulness that the Rat Pack had in such abundance and really show us that side of herself. Keep it light, that’s the order for the evening.
Frikkin’ Gokey
The Lady Is a Tramp (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr. - The Summit in Concert 1962) – No more dirges. No more songs that lend themselves to pointing up to the sky, to teary eyed post-song interviews, to the goddamn heart hand. This song certainly has the potential to be cheesy, but it’ll be a different kind of cheese, no? Dare I say that it has the potential to be Rat Pack-ian? Finger snapping, pointing at the audience, smarmy smile cheese, no? Not ghoulish, dead wife overshare cheese. That’s something, right kiddies?
The Birth of the Blues (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – I still believe that Frikkin’ Gokey has enough soul and talent in him to deliver a knock out performance, but he’s gonna need to step all the way out of his box. That means not really doing the Rat Pack/Sammy Davis, Jr./Frank Sinatra version. Think Bela Fleck. Think Chet Atkins. Think real jazz musicians. Now put a stripped down Gokey into that equation. No hopping around, no mugging, no heart hand gestures. (I can’t let it go, darlings. It’s so wrong! And now they are doing it in commercials. What is wrong with this world?) It could really work. He’d never do it.
I Have Dreamed (The Rat Pack Live at the Sands) – Probably more his speed and would allow for just the kind of smarm he looooves to bring by the truckload. But, at least it’s a beautiful song. And since it’s sung by a pair of star crossed lovers in The King and I doomed to be beaten and beheaded by the end of the play, I can contemplate Gokey’s all too timely demise to distract myself from the performance. What? I’m just wishing that he could be reunited with his wife so that they could make heavenly heart hand signals to all their friends and family.
Kris
I Can’t Give You anything but Love (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr. - The Summit in Concert 1962) – This song is sexy and cheeky and playful, much like Kris. I like seeing him have fun and smile. He’s not really debauched enough to be a Rat Packer at their swinging, devil may care best, no? This is about the only mid-tempo number of theirs that I could see Kris taking on without being crushed under the weight of those teen angel good looks.
I Only Have Eyes for You (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – I adore this song. The doo wop version is actually my favorite, and I think Kris could nail it and have the swaybots swooning in the pit. Judge #4 might just melt clean away. Double bonus!
I’ve Got You Under My Skin (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – Bono proved that this song could sound completely contemporary and radio friendly for the 90’s. I’d love to see Kris work some of his re-arranging mojo and make it contemporary and radio friendly for the 00’s. He and Adam are the only two I trust to do almost anything with a song. (Kris gets an almost for the abomination that was All She Wants to Do Is Dance and that horrible semi-finals MJ. Never forget, kittens!)
Matt
She’s Funny That Way (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – I know I said I’d like to see Allison do this number, and that’s still true. But damn if I don’t think Matt could kill with a gender flipped version of this song. He could really let out some of that mack daddy swagger that’s always there, even when it’s unearned, on this tune. Tell us about how much your woman loves to work and slave for you, Matt. This song has a totally different resonance when sung from the male POV, not that I expect any of these kids to get that. Well, maybe Adam. But if Matt could get that and own that, well, this song could be fire.
King of the Road (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – I expect that this is more up his alley, noodles. This is where the tux with the open shirt and undone bowtie comes in. And for the love of all that’s holy, leave the vibrato in the valise, pretty please? These songs were not meant to be riffed upon unless you have skills like Sarah Vaughn, which we already know Matt does not. I fear the attempts to scat which might occur should Matt get it into his head that he’s some kind of modern day Sammy Davis, Jr.
You Make Me Feel So Young (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – This could be breezy fun. A nice, forgettable mid-pack number that would get him sent home. And isn’t that what we all want deep down, noodles? Because if it’s not him, you know it’s going to be Manic Panic. Gokey’s not going anywhere and Kris and Adam are too good. So let’s all hope for a clichéd song with clean but not overwhelming vocals from Goat Boy so that he can finally, finally go home. I do believe he’s all out of lives.
Adam
All the Way (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr. - The Summit in Concert 1962) – He could bring back the tender, Tears of a Clown performer on a song like this. This is a hypothetical love song, y’all, and aren’t those always the best kind? Pau Pau would be in tears before the band finished the intro.
One for My Baby (Rat Pack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – I would like to see him turn this into a techno/dance rave up. I love this song and its bluesy, boozy air of regret. Tack a good dance beat onto this and I would be over the moon.
Call Me Irresponsible (Rat Pack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – “Call me unpredictable/Tell me I’m impractical/Rainbows, I’m inclined to pursue” Kittens, it’s like the theme song to Adam’s entire life!
Who am I kidding, noodles? Adam will be amazing and I will love whatever he does. Write that across the sky for eternity, kiddies.
Allison
Goody Goody (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – It’s a song made famous by Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers. Could there be a better fit for our Manic Panic chola? I think not. Ella Fitzgerald also did a spiffy version of this song that could provide the jazzier pattern to follow that is required on Rat Pack night. This song is young and fun and flirty and I think we need to see that from Allison after a couple of weeks of more ballad-y choices.
He’s Funny That Way (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – You cannot go wrong with Lady Day and Allison has the chops to pull this song off. And honestly, with the way the crack whores and angry trannys have been styling her, is there a more appropriate lyric than “Not much to look at/nothing to see”? I think not, noodles.
A Foggy Day (The Rat Pack Live at the Sands) – This is another upbeat, fun song that really swings. Basically, I just think Allison needs to find that nugget of fun, playfulness that the Rat Pack had in such abundance and really show us that side of herself. Keep it light, that’s the order for the evening.
Frikkin’ Gokey
The Lady Is a Tramp (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr. - The Summit in Concert 1962) – No more dirges. No more songs that lend themselves to pointing up to the sky, to teary eyed post-song interviews, to the goddamn heart hand. This song certainly has the potential to be cheesy, but it’ll be a different kind of cheese, no? Dare I say that it has the potential to be Rat Pack-ian? Finger snapping, pointing at the audience, smarmy smile cheese, no? Not ghoulish, dead wife overshare cheese. That’s something, right kiddies?
The Birth of the Blues (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – I still believe that Frikkin’ Gokey has enough soul and talent in him to deliver a knock out performance, but he’s gonna need to step all the way out of his box. That means not really doing the Rat Pack/Sammy Davis, Jr./Frank Sinatra version. Think Bela Fleck. Think Chet Atkins. Think real jazz musicians. Now put a stripped down Gokey into that equation. No hopping around, no mugging, no heart hand gestures. (I can’t let it go, darlings. It’s so wrong! And now they are doing it in commercials. What is wrong with this world?) It could really work. He’d never do it.
I Have Dreamed (The Rat Pack Live at the Sands) – Probably more his speed and would allow for just the kind of smarm he looooves to bring by the truckload. But, at least it’s a beautiful song. And since it’s sung by a pair of star crossed lovers in The King and I doomed to be beaten and beheaded by the end of the play, I can contemplate Gokey’s all too timely demise to distract myself from the performance. What? I’m just wishing that he could be reunited with his wife so that they could make heavenly heart hand signals to all their friends and family.
Kris
I Can’t Give You anything but Love (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr. - The Summit in Concert 1962) – This song is sexy and cheeky and playful, much like Kris. I like seeing him have fun and smile. He’s not really debauched enough to be a Rat Packer at their swinging, devil may care best, no? This is about the only mid-tempo number of theirs that I could see Kris taking on without being crushed under the weight of those teen angel good looks.
I Only Have Eyes for You (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – I adore this song. The doo wop version is actually my favorite, and I think Kris could nail it and have the swaybots swooning in the pit. Judge #4 might just melt clean away. Double bonus!
I’ve Got You Under My Skin (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – Bono proved that this song could sound completely contemporary and radio friendly for the 90’s. I’d love to see Kris work some of his re-arranging mojo and make it contemporary and radio friendly for the 00’s. He and Adam are the only two I trust to do almost anything with a song. (Kris gets an almost for the abomination that was All She Wants to Do Is Dance and that horrible semi-finals MJ. Never forget, kittens!)
Matt
She’s Funny That Way (The Clan in Chicago, Live at the Villa Venice, Chicago 1962) – I know I said I’d like to see Allison do this number, and that’s still true. But damn if I don’t think Matt could kill with a gender flipped version of this song. He could really let out some of that mack daddy swagger that’s always there, even when it’s unearned, on this tune. Tell us about how much your woman loves to work and slave for you, Matt. This song has a totally different resonance when sung from the male POV, not that I expect any of these kids to get that. Well, maybe Adam. But if Matt could get that and own that, well, this song could be fire.
King of the Road (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – I expect that this is more up his alley, noodles. This is where the tux with the open shirt and undone bowtie comes in. And for the love of all that’s holy, leave the vibrato in the valise, pretty please? These songs were not meant to be riffed upon unless you have skills like Sarah Vaughn, which we already know Matt does not. I fear the attempts to scat which might occur should Matt get it into his head that he’s some kind of modern day Sammy Davis, Jr.
You Make Me Feel So Young (Ratpack: From Vegas to St. Louis: Sands Hotel Las Vegas Sept 6th 1963; St. Louis 1965) – This could be breezy fun. A nice, forgettable mid-pack number that would get him sent home. And isn’t that what we all want deep down, noodles? Because if it’s not him, you know it’s going to be Manic Panic. Gokey’s not going anywhere and Kris and Adam are too good. So let’s all hope for a clichéd song with clean but not overwhelming vocals from Goat Boy so that he can finally, finally go home. I do believe he’s all out of lives.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep14 Don’t Leave Me This Way
Lament with me, kittens. Our great Anoop is dead.
Ok, lamentation done.
Noodles, it was sad, but on the real? Anoop was not going to be our next American Idol. And he threw away his chances week after week with both hands. Beat It? That sad, sad Usher impersonation? The parade of Members Only jackets? Heck, even on his sing out (which was scads better than on performance night, btw) he still forgot half the words to the damn song. The Idol gods help those who help themselves, darlings.
But mixed in with the bitter last night was an ample helping of sweet, no? Lil and her parade of ever worsening ,Kanekalon weaves and her stank face attitude and her second alto to the right church choir voice are gone home. And she took her butt and her white go-go boots with her. And I say good riddance to bad rubbish. Most disappointing pre-finals fan favorite of all time? I think so, darlings. Let us never speak of her again.
What else was sweet? Kittens, can we deal with the group sing? Yes, the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad lip synching was back in full effect. But everything else about that group sing was dyno-mite! Let’s start at the very beginning. Seeing Paula Abdul in her element kicked tremendous amounts of ass. It’s so easy to forget from the vantage point of eight seasons of drunk Paula that the woman is a kick ass dancer and choreographer. Cold Hearted Snake? What? Possibly the best dance intensive video of all time – nods to Bob Fosse not withstanding. She just looked so relaxed and easy and confident and in control putting the kids through their paces. And for the most part, they did mama proud. [Insert rant about Frikkin’ Gokey here.] Adam danced his ass off. Kris made me love awkward white boy dancing and the rest of the kids were sufficiently funky, funky. And the return of the pointy pose. Oh, pointy pose! I think I’ve missed you most of all.
Hmmm? What else? How about Thelma Houston and Freda Payne’s ta-tas joining Paula’s rebel army, the Breast Liberation Front? Or the fact that Paula did so much drunk chair dancing, and with such joy and abandon, that she’s sure to have aggravated the much discussed “back injury” which will cause her to go back on the sauce leading to the return of incoherent, Rainbow Paula? What about the juxtaposition of D’Archie, still looking like the cutest and cuddliest lost Teletubby ever being trotted out after the exhumed and bloated corpse of KC had just defiled the stage? Poor D’Archie. Or poor, befuddled Ryan? You try having a conversation with D’Archie and Manic Panic. Between the two of them, there’s not enough brain sparkage to light a gasoline soaked match. There was minimal judgery. And while Anoop might have been sent packing (and taken the world’s cutest parents home with him) at least he looked good going.
All in all, an enjoyable night of Idol. I will be crying again next week when it sinks in that losing Anoop means one more week of both Goat Boy and Frikkin’ Gokey, but for now, peace and be satisfied, kiddies.
Ok, lamentation done.
Noodles, it was sad, but on the real? Anoop was not going to be our next American Idol. And he threw away his chances week after week with both hands. Beat It? That sad, sad Usher impersonation? The parade of Members Only jackets? Heck, even on his sing out (which was scads better than on performance night, btw) he still forgot half the words to the damn song. The Idol gods help those who help themselves, darlings.
But mixed in with the bitter last night was an ample helping of sweet, no? Lil and her parade of ever worsening ,Kanekalon weaves and her stank face attitude and her second alto to the right church choir voice are gone home. And she took her butt and her white go-go boots with her. And I say good riddance to bad rubbish. Most disappointing pre-finals fan favorite of all time? I think so, darlings. Let us never speak of her again.
What else was sweet? Kittens, can we deal with the group sing? Yes, the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad lip synching was back in full effect. But everything else about that group sing was dyno-mite! Let’s start at the very beginning. Seeing Paula Abdul in her element kicked tremendous amounts of ass. It’s so easy to forget from the vantage point of eight seasons of drunk Paula that the woman is a kick ass dancer and choreographer. Cold Hearted Snake? What? Possibly the best dance intensive video of all time – nods to Bob Fosse not withstanding. She just looked so relaxed and easy and confident and in control putting the kids through their paces. And for the most part, they did mama proud. [Insert rant about Frikkin’ Gokey here.] Adam danced his ass off. Kris made me love awkward white boy dancing and the rest of the kids were sufficiently funky, funky. And the return of the pointy pose. Oh, pointy pose! I think I’ve missed you most of all.
Hmmm? What else? How about Thelma Houston and Freda Payne’s ta-tas joining Paula’s rebel army, the Breast Liberation Front? Or the fact that Paula did so much drunk chair dancing, and with such joy and abandon, that she’s sure to have aggravated the much discussed “back injury” which will cause her to go back on the sauce leading to the return of incoherent, Rainbow Paula? What about the juxtaposition of D’Archie, still looking like the cutest and cuddliest lost Teletubby ever being trotted out after the exhumed and bloated corpse of KC had just defiled the stage? Poor D’Archie. Or poor, befuddled Ryan? You try having a conversation with D’Archie and Manic Panic. Between the two of them, there’s not enough brain sparkage to light a gasoline soaked match. There was minimal judgery. And while Anoop might have been sent packing (and taken the world’s cutest parents home with him) at least he looked good going.
All in all, an enjoyable night of Idol. I will be crying again next week when it sinks in that losing Anoop means one more week of both Goat Boy and Frikkin’ Gokey, but for now, peace and be satisfied, kiddies.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep13 And Then There Were Two
Adam and Kris. Kris and Adam. It was all about those two last night. Do you like your peanut butter smooth or crunchy, kittens? ‘Cause both of these boys bring the salty goodness in their own way. Disco Night was not nearly the train wreck that I had been anticipating. In fact, it served to pretty neatly separate the wheat from the treacly, heart handed and be-weaved chaff. Let’s do it ‘til we’re satisfied, darlings.
That’s the way (uh huh, uh huh) I like it (uh huh, uh huh)
Adam Lambert/If I Can’t Have You – Great, great song choice here. Yes, the pattern is showing – slow song, fast song, slow song, fast song. But when he is this good, I don’t even care, noodles. The suit was a perfect wardrobe choice, reminiscent of the Disco years without taking it to the John Travolta, white polyester place. The hair was awesomely bridge and tunnel South Jersey pompadour. The voice. Y’all, this fool can blow. But what did he most bring that mama told y’all about yesterday? Abandon. Total commitment to the performance. The way he and his arranger (lord bless him) completely twisted this song into something I’ve never heard before was magical. When the judges finally had an opening to talk about making the song your own, nothing. Well, Paula couldn’t have said it because she was crying too hard, but at least the Dawg could’ve busted it out. Kiddies, Adam is already a superstar whether he wins this competition or not. To quote L’il Mama, that was a “10, 10, 10, Shebang” performance. Haters will hate, but there’s really no denying this fool has got the goods.
Kris Allen/She Works Hard for the Money – Let’s all just acknowledge that this is in no way, shape, or form a disco song. While Donna Summers did have many a disco hit, this was not one of them. Kris totally cheated on tonight’s theme, so a slap on the . . . wrist for that. All good? Good. Because Kris was absolute fire last night, kittens. Hotter than the sun. The white tee and the dog tags and the guitar with the funky drummers? Yep, I was digging it. And I loved what he did to that song. I don’t know if he masterminded that arrangement or not and frankly, I don’t care. That was good, good stuff right there. Mmmmm, Mraz-y. Judge #4 was so hot and bothered that she couldn’t do anything but scream the child’s name over and over for about 20 seconds which Kris is probably used to, although I’m sure the monkey faced wife was not amused. And Paula, my Paula, took it to the bitch song place. She’s so on point this season, darlings. I think she’s having a Flowers for Algernon event. Next season, she’ll be back running around on the wheel and babbling about rainbows and the colors of someone’s voice and we’ll all cry and sing Ben or some shit. Anyway, Kris rocked the party. All night long.
At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Allison Iraheta/Hot Stuff – Well, this is not the song I would’ve chosen for her, obvi. But I liked the kinda rocked out version that she laid down. It was very Allison. Manic Panic really has a great sense of herself as an artist and I always appreciate that. And the vocals were on point, as usual. As Paula stated, that last note was amazing. Sadly, she was once again dressed like a baby Frankenhooker. A baby Frankenhooker with a really bad addiction to home permanent kits. Kittens, it wasn’t good. I tell you, despite the fact that the performance kicked ass, I am concerned for my little chola. Middle of the pack and not a true knock out, and the judges damned with faint praise as they are wont to do with this one. I hope she has the spirit of Gloria Gaynor with her tonight.
Side Note: The judges’ panel would be exactly the same if we got rid of Judge #4 and put a parrot on the stage who would just repeat the last three things that Randy said. Discuss.
Anoop Desai/Dim All the Lights – I was so frustrated with this performance, darlings, because our little Anouk was this close to creating a truly great moment. This song choice was inspired. One of Donna’s slept on disco classics. It starts out slow and then mellows into a mid-tempo groove. And Anoop killed the slow part at the beginning; he was almost in a Robin Thicke place. I mean just absolutely spot on vocals and a real connection to the song. And then the back half of the song happened. And the back half of that song was a Katrina level disaster. Did he just forget every single word of the song? Why yes, I think he did! There are other words to that song than “dim all the lights” repeated over and over and over again. I’m sure of it. And he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, crouching down to touch some outstretched hands from the swaybot pit, incessantly fiddling with the lapels on his jacket. It just was not good. As for the look, well once again he got it half right. The slightly scruffy hair and the 5:00 shadow? I’m loving it. The embrace of the pink? Loving that, too. But the suit was ill fitted. He should’ve gone to Ryan’s tailor. And suit over sweater has been done to death and that particular look didn’t match the night’s theme or the song. Also, suit with sweater with tie with button down with tennis shoes equals 10th grade English teacher trying to be hipster, quirky cute and failing. Not quite, I think, what he was going for. When Paula takes it to the “You look fabulous tonight” place, you know that she haaaaattteeed it. And while it wasn’t his worst performance (Beat It, Simon?) it was far from his best and perhaps the least pimp slot worthy performance of the season. Squandered opportunity right there, kiddies. Go big or go home? I fear that my sexy geek may be going home after that one.
Once I had a love and it was a gas, soon turned out to be a pain in the ass
Matt Giraud/Staying Alive – Once upon a time this season, round about the fifty millionth audition episode, I threatened to cut this fool with a broken bottle. We had moved past that, though. While I never embraced Matt, there was that one time, at Idol camp, where he was kind of awesome. All that is gone now, noodles. Shadows and dust. What on earth would possess him to choose this played out song? This is a song that cannot not be cheesy. Unless you are a Bee Gee, you should not be singing this song. Ever. For real. And the saddest part is, kiddies, that he sounded the best he has in weeks. He kept the vibrato mostly in check and stayed mostly in tune. But when Simon called that performance desperate and unoriginal, I think he was being too kind. That reminded me of the one drunk, obnoxious guy that your friend always brings along to the bar because she swears that he’s really fun, but he’s not, but she doesn’t see it, right? So the drunk, obnoxious tool toddles over to the jukebox, wastes a dollar, and dials up some cheesy as fuck song like Stayin’ Alive and proceeds to bleat it out at the top of his lungs while dancing around like an idiot putting his butt way too close to some poor couple’s buffalo wings and just overall embarrassing everyone in the group while your friend kind of huddles in the corner pretending like she didn’t know that he was that much of an asshole. Yes, that was what Matt’s performance was like. And he might actually stay another week while someone more worthy like Anoop or Allison goes home. Tragic.
Frikkin’ Gokey/September – Yep, noodles, it’s like that. He’s lost his first name privileges with me. And the bitch chose the song that I wanted for Matt. Bloody hell. It was a great song choice, of course. And his voice sounded great, more on pitch and in tune than it has been in many a minute. But the whole thing paled in comparison to the way that Kris deconstructed She Works Hard for the Money or the way Adam just completely made a new song out of If I Can’t Have You. I mean, really, it was kind of dull as dishwater, no? It got Paula up and drunk chair dancing, but any old thing will do that. And the cheese factor. Oh, my stars and garters! The cheese was strong with this one last night. Grinning like a fool through the entire song, making a heart with his hands? Somebody please get this tool off of my TV screen. There’s no star power there. If he gets even a whiff of the AI crown this season, he’ll make Taylor Hicks look like Bono. This fool is just a choir director with a good voice. He should go home and be all about that and be happy with that, because he’ll never be a big pop star.
Lil Rounds/I’m Every Woman – I will give one teeny, tiny point to Ms. Rounds. Obviously, she was not aping Chaka Khan on this song. She was clearly doing an almost note for note copy of the Whitney version of this song. And doing it quite poorly, I might add. We’ve gone through all the permutations of “She’s not a belter and she doesn’t have a big voice like Whitney or Mariah or Chaka Kahn” that I can think of, and she and her bad weaves and insanely out of control ass are going home this week anyway, thank jeebus. So really, is there anything left to say? Oh, yes. Judges, watch your backs. Lil’s mom looked ready to kick off her heels, take off her earrings and do work on y’all last night. Best guard your grills.
I could lose any of my personal B3 tonight, noodles. Sadly, I think it’s going to be Lil and either Anoop or Allison that winds up going home. Damn you, Judge #4. Damn you to hell. Your lust for Matt and that nasty ass growth on his forehead is going to cost me an actual good contestant. I hope Simon Fuller is happy now. (And seriously, kittens, that thing on Matt’s forehead is alarming. I think it’s probably sprouted its own mini-head by now. You know, like when they remove tumors from people and they see that the tumors have grown mini teeth and eyes and hair and stuff? That must be the reason for all the hats)
Did I state that I was ready to just give Adam the crown already, because seriously? I’ll see you darling kids later after I come down off my D’Archie high. Now that’s the kind of former Idol guest I’m talking about.
That’s the way (uh huh, uh huh) I like it (uh huh, uh huh)
Adam Lambert/If I Can’t Have You – Great, great song choice here. Yes, the pattern is showing – slow song, fast song, slow song, fast song. But when he is this good, I don’t even care, noodles. The suit was a perfect wardrobe choice, reminiscent of the Disco years without taking it to the John Travolta, white polyester place. The hair was awesomely bridge and tunnel South Jersey pompadour. The voice. Y’all, this fool can blow. But what did he most bring that mama told y’all about yesterday? Abandon. Total commitment to the performance. The way he and his arranger (lord bless him) completely twisted this song into something I’ve never heard before was magical. When the judges finally had an opening to talk about making the song your own, nothing. Well, Paula couldn’t have said it because she was crying too hard, but at least the Dawg could’ve busted it out. Kiddies, Adam is already a superstar whether he wins this competition or not. To quote L’il Mama, that was a “10, 10, 10, Shebang” performance. Haters will hate, but there’s really no denying this fool has got the goods.
Kris Allen/She Works Hard for the Money – Let’s all just acknowledge that this is in no way, shape, or form a disco song. While Donna Summers did have many a disco hit, this was not one of them. Kris totally cheated on tonight’s theme, so a slap on the . . . wrist for that. All good? Good. Because Kris was absolute fire last night, kittens. Hotter than the sun. The white tee and the dog tags and the guitar with the funky drummers? Yep, I was digging it. And I loved what he did to that song. I don’t know if he masterminded that arrangement or not and frankly, I don’t care. That was good, good stuff right there. Mmmmm, Mraz-y. Judge #4 was so hot and bothered that she couldn’t do anything but scream the child’s name over and over for about 20 seconds which Kris is probably used to, although I’m sure the monkey faced wife was not amused. And Paula, my Paula, took it to the bitch song place. She’s so on point this season, darlings. I think she’s having a Flowers for Algernon event. Next season, she’ll be back running around on the wheel and babbling about rainbows and the colors of someone’s voice and we’ll all cry and sing Ben or some shit. Anyway, Kris rocked the party. All night long.
At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Allison Iraheta/Hot Stuff – Well, this is not the song I would’ve chosen for her, obvi. But I liked the kinda rocked out version that she laid down. It was very Allison. Manic Panic really has a great sense of herself as an artist and I always appreciate that. And the vocals were on point, as usual. As Paula stated, that last note was amazing. Sadly, she was once again dressed like a baby Frankenhooker. A baby Frankenhooker with a really bad addiction to home permanent kits. Kittens, it wasn’t good. I tell you, despite the fact that the performance kicked ass, I am concerned for my little chola. Middle of the pack and not a true knock out, and the judges damned with faint praise as they are wont to do with this one. I hope she has the spirit of Gloria Gaynor with her tonight.
Side Note: The judges’ panel would be exactly the same if we got rid of Judge #4 and put a parrot on the stage who would just repeat the last three things that Randy said. Discuss.
Anoop Desai/Dim All the Lights – I was so frustrated with this performance, darlings, because our little Anouk was this close to creating a truly great moment. This song choice was inspired. One of Donna’s slept on disco classics. It starts out slow and then mellows into a mid-tempo groove. And Anoop killed the slow part at the beginning; he was almost in a Robin Thicke place. I mean just absolutely spot on vocals and a real connection to the song. And then the back half of the song happened. And the back half of that song was a Katrina level disaster. Did he just forget every single word of the song? Why yes, I think he did! There are other words to that song than “dim all the lights” repeated over and over and over again. I’m sure of it. And he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, crouching down to touch some outstretched hands from the swaybot pit, incessantly fiddling with the lapels on his jacket. It just was not good. As for the look, well once again he got it half right. The slightly scruffy hair and the 5:00 shadow? I’m loving it. The embrace of the pink? Loving that, too. But the suit was ill fitted. He should’ve gone to Ryan’s tailor. And suit over sweater has been done to death and that particular look didn’t match the night’s theme or the song. Also, suit with sweater with tie with button down with tennis shoes equals 10th grade English teacher trying to be hipster, quirky cute and failing. Not quite, I think, what he was going for. When Paula takes it to the “You look fabulous tonight” place, you know that she haaaaattteeed it. And while it wasn’t his worst performance (Beat It, Simon?) it was far from his best and perhaps the least pimp slot worthy performance of the season. Squandered opportunity right there, kiddies. Go big or go home? I fear that my sexy geek may be going home after that one.
Once I had a love and it was a gas, soon turned out to be a pain in the ass
Matt Giraud/Staying Alive – Once upon a time this season, round about the fifty millionth audition episode, I threatened to cut this fool with a broken bottle. We had moved past that, though. While I never embraced Matt, there was that one time, at Idol camp, where he was kind of awesome. All that is gone now, noodles. Shadows and dust. What on earth would possess him to choose this played out song? This is a song that cannot not be cheesy. Unless you are a Bee Gee, you should not be singing this song. Ever. For real. And the saddest part is, kiddies, that he sounded the best he has in weeks. He kept the vibrato mostly in check and stayed mostly in tune. But when Simon called that performance desperate and unoriginal, I think he was being too kind. That reminded me of the one drunk, obnoxious guy that your friend always brings along to the bar because she swears that he’s really fun, but he’s not, but she doesn’t see it, right? So the drunk, obnoxious tool toddles over to the jukebox, wastes a dollar, and dials up some cheesy as fuck song like Stayin’ Alive and proceeds to bleat it out at the top of his lungs while dancing around like an idiot putting his butt way too close to some poor couple’s buffalo wings and just overall embarrassing everyone in the group while your friend kind of huddles in the corner pretending like she didn’t know that he was that much of an asshole. Yes, that was what Matt’s performance was like. And he might actually stay another week while someone more worthy like Anoop or Allison goes home. Tragic.
Frikkin’ Gokey/September – Yep, noodles, it’s like that. He’s lost his first name privileges with me. And the bitch chose the song that I wanted for Matt. Bloody hell. It was a great song choice, of course. And his voice sounded great, more on pitch and in tune than it has been in many a minute. But the whole thing paled in comparison to the way that Kris deconstructed She Works Hard for the Money or the way Adam just completely made a new song out of If I Can’t Have You. I mean, really, it was kind of dull as dishwater, no? It got Paula up and drunk chair dancing, but any old thing will do that. And the cheese factor. Oh, my stars and garters! The cheese was strong with this one last night. Grinning like a fool through the entire song, making a heart with his hands? Somebody please get this tool off of my TV screen. There’s no star power there. If he gets even a whiff of the AI crown this season, he’ll make Taylor Hicks look like Bono. This fool is just a choir director with a good voice. He should go home and be all about that and be happy with that, because he’ll never be a big pop star.
Lil Rounds/I’m Every Woman – I will give one teeny, tiny point to Ms. Rounds. Obviously, she was not aping Chaka Khan on this song. She was clearly doing an almost note for note copy of the Whitney version of this song. And doing it quite poorly, I might add. We’ve gone through all the permutations of “She’s not a belter and she doesn’t have a big voice like Whitney or Mariah or Chaka Kahn” that I can think of, and she and her bad weaves and insanely out of control ass are going home this week anyway, thank jeebus. So really, is there anything left to say? Oh, yes. Judges, watch your backs. Lil’s mom looked ready to kick off her heels, take off her earrings and do work on y’all last night. Best guard your grills.
I could lose any of my personal B3 tonight, noodles. Sadly, I think it’s going to be Lil and either Anoop or Allison that winds up going home. Damn you, Judge #4. Damn you to hell. Your lust for Matt and that nasty ass growth on his forehead is going to cost me an actual good contestant. I hope Simon Fuller is happy now. (And seriously, kittens, that thing on Matt’s forehead is alarming. I think it’s probably sprouted its own mini-head by now. You know, like when they remove tumors from people and they see that the tumors have grown mini teeth and eyes and hair and stuff? That must be the reason for all the hats)
Did I state that I was ready to just give Adam the crown already, because seriously? I’ll see you darling kids later after I come down off my D’Archie high. Now that’s the kind of former Idol guest I’m talking about.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
American Idol S8 Extra Burn Baby Burn
Remember how excited I was for Motown Night, kittens, even though I knew deep down it would suck? Yeah, I feel no such thing for Disco Night. You know it's going to suck. I know it's going to suck. And yet, it really doesn't have to, does it? Even more so than with Motown, disco offers up the goods that fit perfectly with this type of show. I mean, Motown songs require soul and actual singing talent beyond what most of these kids bring to the table. But disco? This was the beginning of not really needing to sing well to become a superstar. Not to take away anything from the Donna Summers and Gloria Gaynors of the world. Many, many disco classics are vocally tremendous. Just ask Gloria Estefan and/or Haley Scarnato. But any good karaoke denizen knows that even that meek secretary in cubicle four at the office can do a mean We Are Family or Best Disco in Town.
The thing that makes disco great, noodles, is the thing that most of these kids lack, or if they ever had it, the show has leeched it out of them in its relentless effort to get these kids into their boxes. Abandon. Great disco needs total abandon. No self consciousness. No guilt. Just giving in completely to the good times and reveling in the music and the moment. Which is why Adam is going to blow the doors off, Allison and Kris have a chance to be great, and everyone else will suck. But anyway, kiddies, it's anon now and here's what I hope our merry band will sing in a couple of hours.
Adam Lambert
Anything. Everything. Can we just have a whole evening of Adam Does Disco with special guest appearances by Manic Panic and the suddenly sexy Kris Allen? No? OK, then. I'll limit myself to a top three:
Take Your Time (Do It Right) - Sexy. Sexy. Dead sexy. Adam could tear this jam up. And I would love to hear him get all nasally up in his nasal on the chorus to this song.
Don't Leave Me This Way - Can you imagine our little alien sex god ripping into the chorus of this song? Whoo. I need a cigarette, kiddies. And I think he'd play around with the melody in interesting ways. I can see him doing terrible, unexpected things to this song and I would eat it up with a spoon.
Shake Your Body Down to the Ground - I know we've already had MJ night, but this is Jackson 5. Totally different vibe. And this song is a funky, funky classic. Drunk chair dancing by Paula would be ensured (not that this will be a worry. It will happen).
Allison Iraheta
Manic Panic wasn't even an ova in her mama's uterus when disco ruled the world, but she has such an old soul feel to her that I think she could do really,really well on disco night. She has that abandon thing when she sings (although she lacks it utterly when she talks, no?) and she's such a pro as a performer. She also has motivation because she needs a comeback after last week's debacle, so I expect her to bring it. Perhaps with one of the following:
Last Dance - What I love about this song for our little chola is that it provides little opportunity for poor pronunciation or dropping lyrics, two bad habitsthat she needs to break in the worst possible way. She could smooth it out on the slow part and then kick it up for the toe-tapping finale and there's verylittle chance of a repeat of the sad, sad group sing moment from last week where she just went ahead and made up some lyrics that Giorgio Moroder never dreamed of.
Knock On Wood - One of life's perfect songs, kittens. And I don't think there's a better song for her voice in all of disco-dom. She'd kill with this.
I Love the Nightlife - See what I just said above? Yeah, same thing here. Bonus points if she does the second verse rather than the first and sings the "Maybe that'll make a man outta you" line right to the Dawg. Sweet.
Kris Allen
Love Train - OK, so it's a little gloopy, but Kris is a little gloopy, no? And I think he'd be so cute singing this song. The entire audience might go into sugar shock.
What A Fool Believes - I always love this fool unleashing a little blue eyed soul, kiddies, and nobody does that better than Michael McDonald. I just don'twant to see him at the piano. I think another stand there and sing it straight moment could destroy. And maybe I'm cheating on the disco theme, but dammit,I still say the What's Happening episode with the Doobie Brothers in it was that show's finest hour and that show was the 70's for me so see how it fits? Ofcourse you do!
If You Could Read My Mind - This song is so trippy. Why were songs in the 70's so insane? Was it all the coke and the fucking? Nah, that's always been around in the world of music. I think people were maybe just a little bit crazy, noodles. Anyway, love this song - both the original and the disco meets techno remake that came out in the early 00's. I'd actually love to see Kris do that version and flip the script on the theme.
Anoop Desai
As I said in my last post, kittens, I am so afraid for Anoop. He has to be very, very careful here because Disco is a harsh mistress. As much as I love this sexy, south Asian geek kid, my train wreck alarm is going off. That said, there are songs, even up tempo songs, that I think he could do quite well with.
Best of My Love - Noodles, you all know my feelings about the bitch song, no? But, but darlings, this song is not really a bitch song. Take it down a couple of octaves and you'll see that it's a gender neutral dance classic with a groove that cannot be denied. Anoop could do that R&B mack thing that he's been longing to do but hasn't been able to because he seems to always be aping his betters. This would be an unexpected and daring choice for him, and I've been wanting him to take on a female song that could be butched up for a while now. He'll never choose this, but don't you wish that he would?
The First, the Last, My Everything - No, I'm not joking. Chris Tucker did a wonderful job with it in Rush Hour and that was in jest. There's no way that Anoop can give a copycat performance with this song because nobody has a voice like Barry's. This could be fun. And of course, it could also be horribly,tragically wrong, but no guts, no glory, right darlings?
On Broadway - A stool, a guitar player and a spotlight. That's all he needs plus his gorgeous voice, to finally, finally have his Idol "moment" with this song. Don't quit til you're a star, Anouk.
Lil Rounds
Much like Motown Week, Disco Night is tailor made for her and her voice. Much like Motown Week, Lil will find a boring way to screw her chance all to hell. I tire of this one. If I cared at all, here's what I'd suggest that she sing:
Shame - Great song, not a belter's song at all and thus perfect for her. Also apt as this is exactly what she should be feeling after weeks and weeks of lackluster performances.
The Boss - Diana is living proof of the heights of fabulosity that can be reached by a diva with only an OK voice. Of course, Lil doesn't have one iota of Ms. Ross' charisma and star quality, and the Idols have already proven to be not quite up to the task of taking on the supreme Supreme. But if Lil had theballs, she could turn this song out and kick some serious ass. Maybe even make me forget the nightmare that was Chris Richardson bleating this song in S6. When will the lambs stop screaming, y'all?
Young Hearts, Run Free - This song in the Baz Luhrmann version of Romeo + Juliet was amazing. You know what, noodles? I changed my mind. I don't want Lil to even get a whiff of this song. My memories of Harold Perrineau in a white sequined halter and mini combo and white afro wig are too pristine.
Never Knew Love Like This Before - So, Stephanie Mills is, in fact, a belter par excellence. But, this song is one of her more restrained. I think Lil would rock this joint. It might be finally, finally in the right key for her. What? Bye bye, pitchy Lil. A girl can dream, can't she?
Danny Gokey
Frikkin' Gokey is still here and there's no way he won't last out the week. Sigh. He's gonna be cheesy as all get out, trust, so he might as well go all the way.
I love Music - Cheese
Blame It On the Boogie - On
Working My Way Back to You - Toast
Matt Giraud
He has everything that it takes to actually do pretty well with this theme, which has me scared for both Anoop and Allison. Kittens, I have a great sense of foreboding. I think this fool might actually turn it out this week and cash in on the judges' wholly unearned gift of a save last week. And if he takes out any of my top 4, I will drive to that CBS studio, burn it down and salt the earth. Or, you know, just write a nasty blog post about how much I hate him. Same diff. He could do very well with any of these:
September - He can be funkdafied when he wants to be, and this is the kind of song where the goat voice and the vibrato could actually work in his favor. Dammit.
Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough - What if he did this Timberlake style? Picture it, a little falsetto, a little vest/tie/fedora, a little goatee. This couldbe fire for him. Double dammit.
Gimme the Night - Not as well known as some other disco cuts but just as potently funky. This is a sexy, sexy groove. He could start out tickling the ivories and then just break it the hell on down. He might get back to the sexy Matt that peeked out that one time, remember, kittens? Double dog dammit.
Be afraid.
The thing that makes disco great, noodles, is the thing that most of these kids lack, or if they ever had it, the show has leeched it out of them in its relentless effort to get these kids into their boxes. Abandon. Great disco needs total abandon. No self consciousness. No guilt. Just giving in completely to the good times and reveling in the music and the moment. Which is why Adam is going to blow the doors off, Allison and Kris have a chance to be great, and everyone else will suck. But anyway, kiddies, it's anon now and here's what I hope our merry band will sing in a couple of hours.
Adam Lambert
Anything. Everything. Can we just have a whole evening of Adam Does Disco with special guest appearances by Manic Panic and the suddenly sexy Kris Allen? No? OK, then. I'll limit myself to a top three:
Take Your Time (Do It Right) - Sexy. Sexy. Dead sexy. Adam could tear this jam up. And I would love to hear him get all nasally up in his nasal on the chorus to this song.
Don't Leave Me This Way - Can you imagine our little alien sex god ripping into the chorus of this song? Whoo. I need a cigarette, kiddies. And I think he'd play around with the melody in interesting ways. I can see him doing terrible, unexpected things to this song and I would eat it up with a spoon.
Shake Your Body Down to the Ground - I know we've already had MJ night, but this is Jackson 5. Totally different vibe. And this song is a funky, funky classic. Drunk chair dancing by Paula would be ensured (not that this will be a worry. It will happen).
Allison Iraheta
Manic Panic wasn't even an ova in her mama's uterus when disco ruled the world, but she has such an old soul feel to her that I think she could do really,really well on disco night. She has that abandon thing when she sings (although she lacks it utterly when she talks, no?) and she's such a pro as a performer. She also has motivation because she needs a comeback after last week's debacle, so I expect her to bring it. Perhaps with one of the following:
Last Dance - What I love about this song for our little chola is that it provides little opportunity for poor pronunciation or dropping lyrics, two bad habitsthat she needs to break in the worst possible way. She could smooth it out on the slow part and then kick it up for the toe-tapping finale and there's verylittle chance of a repeat of the sad, sad group sing moment from last week where she just went ahead and made up some lyrics that Giorgio Moroder never dreamed of.
Knock On Wood - One of life's perfect songs, kittens. And I don't think there's a better song for her voice in all of disco-dom. She'd kill with this.
I Love the Nightlife - See what I just said above? Yeah, same thing here. Bonus points if she does the second verse rather than the first and sings the "Maybe that'll make a man outta you" line right to the Dawg. Sweet.
Kris Allen
Love Train - OK, so it's a little gloopy, but Kris is a little gloopy, no? And I think he'd be so cute singing this song. The entire audience might go into sugar shock.
What A Fool Believes - I always love this fool unleashing a little blue eyed soul, kiddies, and nobody does that better than Michael McDonald. I just don'twant to see him at the piano. I think another stand there and sing it straight moment could destroy. And maybe I'm cheating on the disco theme, but dammit,I still say the What's Happening episode with the Doobie Brothers in it was that show's finest hour and that show was the 70's for me so see how it fits? Ofcourse you do!
If You Could Read My Mind - This song is so trippy. Why were songs in the 70's so insane? Was it all the coke and the fucking? Nah, that's always been around in the world of music. I think people were maybe just a little bit crazy, noodles. Anyway, love this song - both the original and the disco meets techno remake that came out in the early 00's. I'd actually love to see Kris do that version and flip the script on the theme.
Anoop Desai
As I said in my last post, kittens, I am so afraid for Anoop. He has to be very, very careful here because Disco is a harsh mistress. As much as I love this sexy, south Asian geek kid, my train wreck alarm is going off. That said, there are songs, even up tempo songs, that I think he could do quite well with.
Best of My Love - Noodles, you all know my feelings about the bitch song, no? But, but darlings, this song is not really a bitch song. Take it down a couple of octaves and you'll see that it's a gender neutral dance classic with a groove that cannot be denied. Anoop could do that R&B mack thing that he's been longing to do but hasn't been able to because he seems to always be aping his betters. This would be an unexpected and daring choice for him, and I've been wanting him to take on a female song that could be butched up for a while now. He'll never choose this, but don't you wish that he would?
The First, the Last, My Everything - No, I'm not joking. Chris Tucker did a wonderful job with it in Rush Hour and that was in jest. There's no way that Anoop can give a copycat performance with this song because nobody has a voice like Barry's. This could be fun. And of course, it could also be horribly,tragically wrong, but no guts, no glory, right darlings?
On Broadway - A stool, a guitar player and a spotlight. That's all he needs plus his gorgeous voice, to finally, finally have his Idol "moment" with this song. Don't quit til you're a star, Anouk.
Lil Rounds
Much like Motown Week, Disco Night is tailor made for her and her voice. Much like Motown Week, Lil will find a boring way to screw her chance all to hell. I tire of this one. If I cared at all, here's what I'd suggest that she sing:
Shame - Great song, not a belter's song at all and thus perfect for her. Also apt as this is exactly what she should be feeling after weeks and weeks of lackluster performances.
The Boss - Diana is living proof of the heights of fabulosity that can be reached by a diva with only an OK voice. Of course, Lil doesn't have one iota of Ms. Ross' charisma and star quality, and the Idols have already proven to be not quite up to the task of taking on the supreme Supreme. But if Lil had theballs, she could turn this song out and kick some serious ass. Maybe even make me forget the nightmare that was Chris Richardson bleating this song in S6. When will the lambs stop screaming, y'all?
Young Hearts, Run Free - This song in the Baz Luhrmann version of Romeo + Juliet was amazing. You know what, noodles? I changed my mind. I don't want Lil to even get a whiff of this song. My memories of Harold Perrineau in a white sequined halter and mini combo and white afro wig are too pristine.
Never Knew Love Like This Before - So, Stephanie Mills is, in fact, a belter par excellence. But, this song is one of her more restrained. I think Lil would rock this joint. It might be finally, finally in the right key for her. What? Bye bye, pitchy Lil. A girl can dream, can't she?
Danny Gokey
Frikkin' Gokey is still here and there's no way he won't last out the week. Sigh. He's gonna be cheesy as all get out, trust, so he might as well go all the way.
I love Music - Cheese
Blame It On the Boogie - On
Working My Way Back to You - Toast
Matt Giraud
He has everything that it takes to actually do pretty well with this theme, which has me scared for both Anoop and Allison. Kittens, I have a great sense of foreboding. I think this fool might actually turn it out this week and cash in on the judges' wholly unearned gift of a save last week. And if he takes out any of my top 4, I will drive to that CBS studio, burn it down and salt the earth. Or, you know, just write a nasty blog post about how much I hate him. Same diff. He could do very well with any of these:
September - He can be funkdafied when he wants to be, and this is the kind of song where the goat voice and the vibrato could actually work in his favor. Dammit.
Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough - What if he did this Timberlake style? Picture it, a little falsetto, a little vest/tie/fedora, a little goatee. This couldbe fire for him. Double dammit.
Gimme the Night - Not as well known as some other disco cuts but just as potently funky. This is a sexy, sexy groove. He could start out tickling the ivories and then just break it the hell on down. He might get back to the sexy Matt that peeked out that one time, remember, kittens? Double dog dammit.
Be afraid.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep12 You Can’t Win, You Can’t Break Even, and You Can’t Get Out of the Game
Oh, Noodles. Judge #4 really is the funky gift that keeps on stankin’, isn’t she? Y’all know that her lusty loins were the impetus behind the judges wasting the save on the goat voice vibrato boy. Not that I care, because he has as much of a shot at winning this show as Ricky Braddy or Ju’not Joyner do at this point. I actually think Ricky might have a better chance of being named your next American Idol. Sigh. Well, kittens, I suppose that the judges had to use the latest in this season’s long line of failed “innovations” and I was always gonna hate it no matter when or on who it was unleashed. C’est la vie. I have every confidence that Matt’s ass will go home next week anyway, just as god intended. Thus, Judge #4 has only postponed the inevitable and revealed herself to be even more tasteless than ever, and also a raging cougar, but we already knew that, didn’t we darlings? On to last night’s results show which was bad in just the right ways that made it kind of awesome.
First of all, kittens, can we deal with the fact that Ryan is killing it with the look this season? Killing it. I could eat him up with a spoon he was so yummy last night. The London cut suits, the tie clip, the close cropped ‘do and that natural Seacrest-ian charisma. Y’all, he’s single handedly making up for the fact that hair and wardrobe have been taken over by coked up monkeys. Which, I know I gripe, noodles, but I gripe because I secretly love. I can’t wait to see if Paula’s breasts actually pull off their daring attempt to escape from her clothing this season and share their special sauce with the world. I’m waiting with bated breath for the day that the angry trannys in hair and make up just stick a fright wig on Lil’s head and call it a day. I want to see if the crack whores in wardrobe can put enough epaulets and insignias and zippers and medallions and shiny metal buttons and boxy cropped jackets and peg leg pants on the kids to convince some banana republic that they are a small yet mighty military force and then attempt a violent coup which results in the tragic, on air death of Judge #4. I want more Kris Allen in flannel shirts looking ridiculously lickable and Adam Lambert in pants so tight I can tell his religion and a suddenly smoking Gokey rocking the hell out of the George Michael 5:00 shadow. That’s just first of all, kittens.
Second of all, the kids sang their butts off on Maniac. The first four were completely on point right out the gate, what? And it was live! I knew they had it in them, darlings. Kris sounded amazing. Allison was in glorious voice while completely flubbing the lyrics like she does all the damn time anyway. Anoop sounded so good that I think he actually surprised himself and subsequently almost ate it trying to get down the stairs. Even Matt reigned in the vibrato and showed that gorgeous tone he has that makes me so frustrated when he throws it away trying to do too much most of the time. And then Adam came in and schooled them on how to make anything sound like it’s about sex and Lil came on and actually sang on pitch which may or may not have caused her weave to curl up on the ends. That was the best worst group sing of the entire season.
Third of all, I didn’t care at all about the AI-lettes fake trip to see the 17 Again premiere, although I will note that we’ve all seen Big already, so why do we need this movie? However, I did love that Zac Efron is a big old closet case and he came to the show dressed exactly like a low rent knock off Adam Lambert so you know he would like to tap that ass. And also, I will never tire of the other contestants rippin’ on Gokey. Y’all, they hate him just as much as we do. Old ass Gokey. That’s some funny shit right there.
As for the rest, well J. Hud was fire. I refuse to recap Miley Cyrus and whatever it is that America thinks that she does well but I was praying that Jamie Foxx was in the audience with some heroin. And WTF on Randy yawning through Ryan’s announcement of the B3? Bitch, you get paid millions of dollars to do this, so drink a Red Bull, zip up your purple cardigan and act like you give a damn while these kids are pouring their hearts out on the stage for your amusement. Gah. Only my love for America’s Best Dance Crew keeps me from wishing fervently for Randy’s death. He’s next on my hit list after we take out Judge #4.
Next week, we got disco night. I’ll give my pearls of wisdom on what I think the kiddies should tackle anon, but let me just say that I fear for Anoop. Disco will bring out all the cheesy things in him that make him less than awesome. Oh, and I will loathe it if someone sings Turn the Beat Around and may have a snit fit. Fun for y'all, but horrible for my smooth, unlined forehead.
First of all, kittens, can we deal with the fact that Ryan is killing it with the look this season? Killing it. I could eat him up with a spoon he was so yummy last night. The London cut suits, the tie clip, the close cropped ‘do and that natural Seacrest-ian charisma. Y’all, he’s single handedly making up for the fact that hair and wardrobe have been taken over by coked up monkeys. Which, I know I gripe, noodles, but I gripe because I secretly love. I can’t wait to see if Paula’s breasts actually pull off their daring attempt to escape from her clothing this season and share their special sauce with the world. I’m waiting with bated breath for the day that the angry trannys in hair and make up just stick a fright wig on Lil’s head and call it a day. I want to see if the crack whores in wardrobe can put enough epaulets and insignias and zippers and medallions and shiny metal buttons and boxy cropped jackets and peg leg pants on the kids to convince some banana republic that they are a small yet mighty military force and then attempt a violent coup which results in the tragic, on air death of Judge #4. I want more Kris Allen in flannel shirts looking ridiculously lickable and Adam Lambert in pants so tight I can tell his religion and a suddenly smoking Gokey rocking the hell out of the George Michael 5:00 shadow. That’s just first of all, kittens.
Second of all, the kids sang their butts off on Maniac. The first four were completely on point right out the gate, what? And it was live! I knew they had it in them, darlings. Kris sounded amazing. Allison was in glorious voice while completely flubbing the lyrics like she does all the damn time anyway. Anoop sounded so good that I think he actually surprised himself and subsequently almost ate it trying to get down the stairs. Even Matt reigned in the vibrato and showed that gorgeous tone he has that makes me so frustrated when he throws it away trying to do too much most of the time. And then Adam came in and schooled them on how to make anything sound like it’s about sex and Lil came on and actually sang on pitch which may or may not have caused her weave to curl up on the ends. That was the best worst group sing of the entire season.
Third of all, I didn’t care at all about the AI-lettes fake trip to see the 17 Again premiere, although I will note that we’ve all seen Big already, so why do we need this movie? However, I did love that Zac Efron is a big old closet case and he came to the show dressed exactly like a low rent knock off Adam Lambert so you know he would like to tap that ass. And also, I will never tire of the other contestants rippin’ on Gokey. Y’all, they hate him just as much as we do. Old ass Gokey. That’s some funny shit right there.
As for the rest, well J. Hud was fire. I refuse to recap Miley Cyrus and whatever it is that America thinks that she does well but I was praying that Jamie Foxx was in the audience with some heroin. And WTF on Randy yawning through Ryan’s announcement of the B3? Bitch, you get paid millions of dollars to do this, so drink a Red Bull, zip up your purple cardigan and act like you give a damn while these kids are pouring their hearts out on the stage for your amusement. Gah. Only my love for America’s Best Dance Crew keeps me from wishing fervently for Randy’s death. He’s next on my hit list after we take out Judge #4.
Next week, we got disco night. I’ll give my pearls of wisdom on what I think the kiddies should tackle anon, but let me just say that I fear for Anoop. Disco will bring out all the cheesy things in him that make him less than awesome. Oh, and I will loathe it if someone sings Turn the Beat Around and may have a snit fit. Fun for y'all, but horrible for my smooth, unlined forehead.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep11 Better than Seussical
Kris Allen for the win, kittens! I wasn't even really paying attention to Lil's pimp spot debut because Kris blew my whole entire mind. That was an amazing performance by the dark horse cutie of the season. It was tender and heartfelt and just overall gorgeous. Too bad it had to be surrounded by about 50 minutes of crap (Adam being exempted as always for being 100 different flavors of awesome with a somewhat lazy and self indulgent performance).
Can we now just admit that the whole Judge #4 incident has brought bad juju to the entire season? Because she sucks and is incoherent and useless and makes the show run over and is just generally a boil on the butt of humanity, we have to get judge critique rationing? Umm, hell to the naw! Just pull the trigger and get rid of her already. She has zero value add. Poor Ryan. I can see that this is taking its toll on him. He couldn’t even work up any real head of steam when he was needling Simon last night.
But on to the show, no? Noodles, I frikkin’ love Quentin Tarantino on Idol. If we must have a fourth judge, why can’t it be him instead? He seems to actually have watched more than one episode of the show, understand what it’s about, and give relevant and honest critical feedback to the kids. It was like bizarro world during his mentoring clips. Too bad that most of the kids didn’t listen to him. Let’s get the two worthy contestants out of the way and then we’ll deal with the rest.
Thing One
Kris Allen/Falling Slowly (Once) – That was awesome. That’s what I’m talking about, y’all. I loved, loved, loved it. That sexy white devil brought it the way it should be broughten! Really, darlings, I was stunned. I just. . . I had no words for how much I enjoyed that. Kris really does have a pretty, pretty voice. Lovely tone. Unlike Idiot Randy, I didn’t hear any major pitch problems, there was maybe one flubbed note early on, but the falsetto was in fine form. Sadly, the performance was wasted on the Dawg and Judge #4 (who I reluctantly had to agree with on this one) and so Kris did not get nearly the props that he deserved for taking a risk, picking the perfect song for him and then singing it with tenderness and passion and delivering the performance of the night. The sexy is most definitely back.
Adam Lambert/Born to Be Wild (Easy Rider) – How much of a superstar is this kid already? Well, kiddies, my mom thinks he is yummy and was lamenting the fact that he bats for the other team. Yes, that’s right, darlings. My mother would like to tap that, and she started out thinking he was a weirdo screamer alien rocker kid. As Paula said, this fool is dancing in the path of greatness and rainbow sunshine all the way to the final. I agreed with Simon that this performance was a little bit indulgent and potentially polarizing, but you could tell that Adam was having a blast. This kid is really feeling himself and it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing. Effortlessly headbanging with the band, coaxing the panties off of the swaybots and just generally being sex on wheels up there. Hell, yeah! He’s already a rock star.
Thing Two
Allison Iraheta/I Don't Want to Miss a Thing (Armageddon) – I’m pretty sure that if Judge #4 is Satan, Diane Warren is one of her chief devilish minions, maybe Azrael. And they made her go first. Why does the show hate her so much? I mean, yes, she got the pimp treatment with the violins & co. But honestly, she’s the very definition of under the bus. And with all that, kittens, I have to confess that I didn't really care for the performance. It’s too sad. She flubbed the words; her pronunciation is, if anything, getting worse; and the key was way too low. And her voice sounded tired this week. I mean she always has that cigarettes and whiskey rasp, but this week, she sounded hoarse. Like she needs about a month's rest and lots of tea with honey and lemon. Darlings, it was by far her worst performance (although it was still better than almost anything that some, like Matt, let’s just toss a name out there, has ever thrown down on the Idol stage) And of course now the judges decide to pimp. Well, I won't complain too much. They're about a day late and a dollar short, but I'm for anything that equals Allison pimping.
Anoop Desai/Everything I Do (I Do It for You) (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves) – As soon as Ryan said Robin Hood in the bumper to the break, I knew that Anoop would be bringing us this big ol’ block of gubmint cheese. Dammit. I hated this song choice in every way that one can. There is just no way to make a good impression when you are singing a song this inherently bad. And Anoop was out of time at the beginning. It was very odd, almost like he couldn’t hear the band at all. Well, kiddies, he didn’t sing it badly. It’s just that the song sucks tremendous amounts of ass and it was boring. And what the hell was he wearing? When I first saw him at the top of the show, I thought he was rocking a denim vest, which sadly might have actually been better. Y’all, I have decided that Anoop has no taste in music. Or rather, that he has the taste of a 50 year old, 'gator wearing, country ass black man for whom Freddie Jackson is the height of R&B fabulousity. He really needs someone to guide him to the right songs. Dear Anoop, Call me! I will hook you up. Love, Me.
Nothing
Matt Giraud/ Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman (Don Juan De Marco) – Not one, but two Bryan Adams songs? Why so many songs from the cheese master?
(Fashion Side Note: His pants were sooo tight, y'all. Why? It's wrong. Wardrobe crack whores, please make it stop. Only Adam can pull of those tight ass pants and that’s because it’s as close as he can come to being butt nekkid all the time as the gods intended without getting arrested, mkay?)
God. The goat voiced vibrato was back in full effect. And why the addiction to vocal runs? I blame Mimi and Boyz II Men and other 90’s era R&B titans. Kids grew up not appreciating the perfect simplicity of a held note. Find a note, hit it and hold it. It's not hard, youth of America. You know, noodles, he sang really pretty when he sang it straight. And he had some moments of very nice falsetto there. And then, oh, he just let it get away from him as always. The whole performance was so hot and cold. But I finally got it on goat boy, y'all. He totally thinks he's a much better singer than he really is and it’s so sad for him. Special note to the Dawg: For me for you, this was your shining judge moment of the season. You totally made sense. Thank you, Randy Jackson. Judge #4 continued to be a useless tool. In what universe is Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman a rock song?
Do y’all remember that Dr. Seuss book, Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now? The one where the narrator begs this creepy kid to go away and finally, after a million pages, the kid goes? And then there was this story that really Dr. Seuss had written that book about Richard Nixon and then some Washington Post reporter reprinted the poem in its entirety replacing the name Marvin K. Mooney with Richard Nixon and it reflected perfectly the post-Watergate mood of the country? Do y’all think that Dr. Seuss could’ve secretly written that book about Judge #4, sensing how much we would hate her? I mean, look how well it works:
Kara DioGuardi will you please go now!
The time has come. The time is now.
Just go. Go. Go! I don't care how.
You can go by foot. You can go by cow.
Kara DioGuardi will you please go now!
You can go on skates. You can go on skis.
You can go in a hat. But, please go. Please!
I don't care. You can go by bike.
You can go on a Zike-Bike if you like.
If you like you can go in an old blue shoe.
Just go, go, GO! Please do, do, do, DO!
Kara DioGuardi, I don't care how.
Kara DioGuardi, will you please GO NOW!
You can go on stilts. You can go by fish.
You can go in a Crunk-Car if you wish.
If you wish, you may go by lion's tale.
Or stamp yourself and go by mail.
Kara DioGuardi, don't you know?
The time has come to go, go, GO!
Get on your way! Please Kara D!
You might like going in a Zumble-Zay.
You can go by balloon . . . or broomstick.
Or you can go by camel in a bureau drawer.
You can go by bumble-boat . . . or jet.
I don't care how you go. Just get!
Kara DioGuardi! I don't care how.
Kara DioGuardi, will you please GO NOW!
I said GO and GO I meant . . .
The time had come
So . . . Kara WENT.
Noodles, let’s all pray that the last line of this poem comes true very, very soon.
Danny Gokey/ Endless Love (Endless Love) – Frikkin’ Gokey, darlings. “I play guitar, too! Look at me! Look at me!” Really? He's so fucking cheesy. And the show is only encouraging the cheese. They are not just embracing the cheese. They are promoting the cheese and the disgusting, ghoulish, spectacle of publicly grieving for the whole world to observe. It’s abhorrent. I can’t with this one. So he took a song that’s nothing but clichés and he made it even worse with the staging and the harp and the stool and the stupid hand gestures meant to mimic heartfelt sincerity for his dead wife (against the very sane advice of QT, I might add). And he was way off pitch again. Some more. And he filled the song up with unnecessary runs and vocal tics and killed whatever small amount of charm it had going for it. And he screamed at me the entire time. Stop screaming at me, Gokey. Why are you angry with me? I’m not the one who made you this intolerably contrived. And yet the show will not get off this fool’s jock. Even Simon softballed how bad this performance really was and lied that his voice sounded great. What? Paula got Simon hooked on that stuff, y’all. The only plus side to this nonsense was that someone took away that fool's glasses and gave him a haircut and he was rockin' the nice 5:00 shadow and he looked hella good. What? All of a sudden, all these kids are fine.
Lil Rounds/The Rose (The Rose) – And Lil got the completely undeserved pimp slot. And the wig. Kittens, the wigs are killing me softly. She seemed perfectly fine with her short and sassy cut. It suited her face and her personality. And know, we get third rate Remi Yaki weave that you could find in any Sally Beauty Supply across the country (Hey, Carly!). Let’s do this quickly, because there’s really not much to talk about here, is there, darlings? It was a horrible song choice for her. She flubbed the words badly. Of course, she fell right off the pitch in the transition to the “gospel” part. And it was boring again. Some more. So, so bored now. And the judges continued to talk about everything but her actual singing. Go home, Lil. I think you’ve disappointed me most of all.
That’s the whole kit and caboodle. Tonight, we lose one more and then we are only a week away from Top 5! If it’s anyone other than Lil or Matt, I will be displeased.
Can we now just admit that the whole Judge #4 incident has brought bad juju to the entire season? Because she sucks and is incoherent and useless and makes the show run over and is just generally a boil on the butt of humanity, we have to get judge critique rationing? Umm, hell to the naw! Just pull the trigger and get rid of her already. She has zero value add. Poor Ryan. I can see that this is taking its toll on him. He couldn’t even work up any real head of steam when he was needling Simon last night.
But on to the show, no? Noodles, I frikkin’ love Quentin Tarantino on Idol. If we must have a fourth judge, why can’t it be him instead? He seems to actually have watched more than one episode of the show, understand what it’s about, and give relevant and honest critical feedback to the kids. It was like bizarro world during his mentoring clips. Too bad that most of the kids didn’t listen to him. Let’s get the two worthy contestants out of the way and then we’ll deal with the rest.
Thing One
Kris Allen/Falling Slowly (Once) – That was awesome. That’s what I’m talking about, y’all. I loved, loved, loved it. That sexy white devil brought it the way it should be broughten! Really, darlings, I was stunned. I just. . . I had no words for how much I enjoyed that. Kris really does have a pretty, pretty voice. Lovely tone. Unlike Idiot Randy, I didn’t hear any major pitch problems, there was maybe one flubbed note early on, but the falsetto was in fine form. Sadly, the performance was wasted on the Dawg and Judge #4 (who I reluctantly had to agree with on this one) and so Kris did not get nearly the props that he deserved for taking a risk, picking the perfect song for him and then singing it with tenderness and passion and delivering the performance of the night. The sexy is most definitely back.
Adam Lambert/Born to Be Wild (Easy Rider) – How much of a superstar is this kid already? Well, kiddies, my mom thinks he is yummy and was lamenting the fact that he bats for the other team. Yes, that’s right, darlings. My mother would like to tap that, and she started out thinking he was a weirdo screamer alien rocker kid. As Paula said, this fool is dancing in the path of greatness and rainbow sunshine all the way to the final. I agreed with Simon that this performance was a little bit indulgent and potentially polarizing, but you could tell that Adam was having a blast. This kid is really feeling himself and it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing. Effortlessly headbanging with the band, coaxing the panties off of the swaybots and just generally being sex on wheels up there. Hell, yeah! He’s already a rock star.
Thing Two
Allison Iraheta/I Don't Want to Miss a Thing (Armageddon) – I’m pretty sure that if Judge #4 is Satan, Diane Warren is one of her chief devilish minions, maybe Azrael. And they made her go first. Why does the show hate her so much? I mean, yes, she got the pimp treatment with the violins & co. But honestly, she’s the very definition of under the bus. And with all that, kittens, I have to confess that I didn't really care for the performance. It’s too sad. She flubbed the words; her pronunciation is, if anything, getting worse; and the key was way too low. And her voice sounded tired this week. I mean she always has that cigarettes and whiskey rasp, but this week, she sounded hoarse. Like she needs about a month's rest and lots of tea with honey and lemon. Darlings, it was by far her worst performance (although it was still better than almost anything that some, like Matt, let’s just toss a name out there, has ever thrown down on the Idol stage) And of course now the judges decide to pimp. Well, I won't complain too much. They're about a day late and a dollar short, but I'm for anything that equals Allison pimping.
Anoop Desai/Everything I Do (I Do It for You) (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves) – As soon as Ryan said Robin Hood in the bumper to the break, I knew that Anoop would be bringing us this big ol’ block of gubmint cheese. Dammit. I hated this song choice in every way that one can. There is just no way to make a good impression when you are singing a song this inherently bad. And Anoop was out of time at the beginning. It was very odd, almost like he couldn’t hear the band at all. Well, kiddies, he didn’t sing it badly. It’s just that the song sucks tremendous amounts of ass and it was boring. And what the hell was he wearing? When I first saw him at the top of the show, I thought he was rocking a denim vest, which sadly might have actually been better. Y’all, I have decided that Anoop has no taste in music. Or rather, that he has the taste of a 50 year old, 'gator wearing, country ass black man for whom Freddie Jackson is the height of R&B fabulousity. He really needs someone to guide him to the right songs. Dear Anoop, Call me! I will hook you up. Love, Me.
Nothing
Matt Giraud/ Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman (Don Juan De Marco) – Not one, but two Bryan Adams songs? Why so many songs from the cheese master?
(Fashion Side Note: His pants were sooo tight, y'all. Why? It's wrong. Wardrobe crack whores, please make it stop. Only Adam can pull of those tight ass pants and that’s because it’s as close as he can come to being butt nekkid all the time as the gods intended without getting arrested, mkay?)
God. The goat voiced vibrato was back in full effect. And why the addiction to vocal runs? I blame Mimi and Boyz II Men and other 90’s era R&B titans. Kids grew up not appreciating the perfect simplicity of a held note. Find a note, hit it and hold it. It's not hard, youth of America. You know, noodles, he sang really pretty when he sang it straight. And he had some moments of very nice falsetto there. And then, oh, he just let it get away from him as always. The whole performance was so hot and cold. But I finally got it on goat boy, y'all. He totally thinks he's a much better singer than he really is and it’s so sad for him. Special note to the Dawg: For me for you, this was your shining judge moment of the season. You totally made sense. Thank you, Randy Jackson. Judge #4 continued to be a useless tool. In what universe is Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman a rock song?
Do y’all remember that Dr. Seuss book, Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now? The one where the narrator begs this creepy kid to go away and finally, after a million pages, the kid goes? And then there was this story that really Dr. Seuss had written that book about Richard Nixon and then some Washington Post reporter reprinted the poem in its entirety replacing the name Marvin K. Mooney with Richard Nixon and it reflected perfectly the post-Watergate mood of the country? Do y’all think that Dr. Seuss could’ve secretly written that book about Judge #4, sensing how much we would hate her? I mean, look how well it works:
Kara DioGuardi will you please go now!
The time has come. The time is now.
Just go. Go. Go! I don't care how.
You can go by foot. You can go by cow.
Kara DioGuardi will you please go now!
You can go on skates. You can go on skis.
You can go in a hat. But, please go. Please!
I don't care. You can go by bike.
You can go on a Zike-Bike if you like.
If you like you can go in an old blue shoe.
Just go, go, GO! Please do, do, do, DO!
Kara DioGuardi, I don't care how.
Kara DioGuardi, will you please GO NOW!
You can go on stilts. You can go by fish.
You can go in a Crunk-Car if you wish.
If you wish, you may go by lion's tale.
Or stamp yourself and go by mail.
Kara DioGuardi, don't you know?
The time has come to go, go, GO!
Get on your way! Please Kara D!
You might like going in a Zumble-Zay.
You can go by balloon . . . or broomstick.
Or you can go by camel in a bureau drawer.
You can go by bumble-boat . . . or jet.
I don't care how you go. Just get!
Kara DioGuardi! I don't care how.
Kara DioGuardi, will you please GO NOW!
I said GO and GO I meant . . .
The time had come
So . . . Kara WENT.
Noodles, let’s all pray that the last line of this poem comes true very, very soon.
Danny Gokey/ Endless Love (Endless Love) – Frikkin’ Gokey, darlings. “I play guitar, too! Look at me! Look at me!” Really? He's so fucking cheesy. And the show is only encouraging the cheese. They are not just embracing the cheese. They are promoting the cheese and the disgusting, ghoulish, spectacle of publicly grieving for the whole world to observe. It’s abhorrent. I can’t with this one. So he took a song that’s nothing but clichés and he made it even worse with the staging and the harp and the stool and the stupid hand gestures meant to mimic heartfelt sincerity for his dead wife (against the very sane advice of QT, I might add). And he was way off pitch again. Some more. And he filled the song up with unnecessary runs and vocal tics and killed whatever small amount of charm it had going for it. And he screamed at me the entire time. Stop screaming at me, Gokey. Why are you angry with me? I’m not the one who made you this intolerably contrived. And yet the show will not get off this fool’s jock. Even Simon softballed how bad this performance really was and lied that his voice sounded great. What? Paula got Simon hooked on that stuff, y’all. The only plus side to this nonsense was that someone took away that fool's glasses and gave him a haircut and he was rockin' the nice 5:00 shadow and he looked hella good. What? All of a sudden, all these kids are fine.
Lil Rounds/The Rose (The Rose) – And Lil got the completely undeserved pimp slot. And the wig. Kittens, the wigs are killing me softly. She seemed perfectly fine with her short and sassy cut. It suited her face and her personality. And know, we get third rate Remi Yaki weave that you could find in any Sally Beauty Supply across the country (Hey, Carly!). Let’s do this quickly, because there’s really not much to talk about here, is there, darlings? It was a horrible song choice for her. She flubbed the words badly. Of course, she fell right off the pitch in the transition to the “gospel” part. And it was boring again. Some more. So, so bored now. And the judges continued to talk about everything but her actual singing. Go home, Lil. I think you’ve disappointed me most of all.
That’s the whole kit and caboodle. Tonight, we lose one more and then we are only a week away from Top 5! If it’s anyone other than Lil or Matt, I will be displeased.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Extra Luck, Be a Lady Tonight
Kittens, I know I said I’d be out of touch, but this is a little bit over the top even pour moi, no? Well, the universe continues to hate me, but the Idol gods love me because White Stevie is gone and not a moment too soon. I debated even bothering to recap last week’s shows at this late date, but I must get my licks in (and in the case of my sweet Anoop/Anouk I mean that literally. Yum!) So I’ll begin by doing the fastest run down ever of last week’s talent in no particular order and then I’ll tell you what I’m dying to hear the AI-lettes sing this week for Movie Night. Oh, and I’d apologize for flubbing the birth year’s last week, but really I picked better for most of the contestants than they picked for themselves so I don’t care. And we’re off, darlings!
Stale Leftovers
Allison Iraheta/I Can’t Make You Love Me – Fierce! That’s all. And Simon can kiss my sweet patootie. Ok, now that’s all.
Anoop Desai/True Colors – Give me a fuckin’ break, America. Anoop sings the one song that I most wanted to hear him sing and he kills it and still you put him in the bottom 3? Noodles, tell me it was a late April Fool’s joke. Clearly one of the top performances of the night along with Adam and Allison. Others may hate, but that sexy geek can just come right on home to mama. For real.
Kris Allen/All She Wants to Do Is Dance – Don Henley put out many fine songs in the 80’s. This was not one of them. Add in the oddly lethargic swaybots and Judge #4’s only relevant critique of the entire season on that jacked up arrangement and you have Kris’ dark night of the squeaky clean soul. Poor form.
Matt Giraud/Part-Time Lover – Chicken Little did it better, kittens. Hurt my ears. And the judges are seriously on that monkey crack when it comes to this kid. The hate train is back in full effect.
Danny Gokey/Stand By Me – It’s a waste of my time to comment. He is cheesy and gross and I wish he would go home. Don’t you? I knew that you did.
Lil Rounds/What’s Love Got to Do With It? – Well, nothing where she’s concerned, kiddies. And the wigs are killing me softly. Bad angry trannys! No loose booty for you. Can we send her home next? Who is voting for her and how can I get you to stop?
White Stevie Wonder/The Search Is Over – Yes, yes it is.
Adam Lambert/Mad World – He’s magic, y’all. And thanks to the pointless addition of Judge #4, half of America didn’t even see it live. Ryan’s poor little heart was breaking right before our very eyes. You know the judge panel has got out of control when even Ryan can’t bring the show in under the wire. Can we all just admit now that the Judge #4 experiment has been a huge failure and put her out of her misery? Because Adam is magic and that performance should be up there in the pantheon with ‘Tasia’s Summertime and Carrie’s Alone and Kelly’s Stuff Like That There and Elliot’s Song for You and Jason’s Hallelujah and J.Hud’s Circle of Life. And half of DVR/TiVo America missed it. That ain’t right.
Hot and Fresh Out the Kitchen
Tonight, tonight. Oh, what these kids could do! Surprisingly, there are things that I wouldn’t mind hearing from any of the contestants left in the competition. I really think this is one of the strongest top 7 groups we’ve had in a long, long while, noodles. Even the ones I loathe I must grudgingly admit have some talent. Since we once again have a theme that invites “Basically, sing whatever you damn well please,” I’m thinking that Adam and Kris have the potential to tear it up in a few hours whereas Lil and Anoop are in trouble. (My poor Anoop does better when he’s more constrained by the theme) Anyway, if they were smart, they might attempt some of these songs:
Adam Lambert
He will kill it no matter what. Of that, there can no longer be any doubt. And he has so much room to roam here, kittens, that I am on the edge of my seat. How can he not get the pimp slot again this week? I think it nigh unto impossible. I’d listen to him sing anything, but I think I might lose all bodily functions for a while if he sang any of the following:
Come What May (Moulin Rouge) – I have long thought that nothing could touch the perfection of hearing Ewan McGregor sing this to a dying of consumption Nicole Kidman, but I think Adam singing this might break me in just the right ways. Bonus points if he wears a bindi or henna tattoos on any part of his body.
Iris (City of Angels) – It’s almost too expected from him, but I do believe that he could kill with this number.
White Wedding (The Wedding Singer) – Oh, what I’d give for a glammed out Adam getting down and dirty with some Billy Idol. Think of the places that he could grab himself, kiddies! The mind reels. Sex faces galore.
Kiss (Under the Cherry Moon) – Adam Lambert + Prince = Two great tastes that taste great together. Every loin in the place would spontaneously combust and Paula might actually climb onto the stage and copulate with the boy live on the air. On a side note, a Paula/Adam Lambert baby might be the most perfectly divine creature ever invented or might be the antichrist. Either way, massively entertaining.
Allison Iraheta
Manic Panic has done up tempo and now she’s broken our hearts with an aching ballad. She has nothing left to prove for me. Like Adam, I just want to watch and enjoy until the finals and then prepare myself for her sure to be a smash debut CD. She’s only had one teeny misstep in picking a lesser No Doubt song in Don’t Speak and still managing to deliver a decent vocal. This week, if she sings any of the following, even the crackheads in wardrobe won’t be able to stop her:
Evergreen (A Star Is Born) – I think our Manic Panic chola has an even bigger voice than she’s thus far shown us, noodles. We’re talking Barbara level chops. Yes, it’s true. Lil is not the true belter this season. Allison is. She could throw down on this song. It’s treacly tripe but the song is completely saved by the fact that Babs rips into it and eats it whole. Allison could do the same and deliver a vocal that would leave her beyond reproach, Simon.
Take Me With You (Purple Rain) – Happy, fun Prince! Who doesn’t love happy, fun Prince. This cut would allow Allison to show her younger, more playful side and quiet those critics who erroneously claim that she doesn’t have much of a personality, Simon.
Nobody Does It Better (The Spy Who Loved Me) – Because it’s true, Simon.
Anoop Desai
Kittens, he needs to resist the urge to retreat into frat boy party mode with some schlocky up tempo tune. He’s right in the pocket rocking a tenderly sexy ballad like he did with True Colors last week. This week, Anoop could get my digits and get in them jeans if he sang any of the following:
When You Say Nothing At All (Notting Hill) – Beautiful song for a beautiful voice. He could have Paula crying and we all love when Paula cries, no?
Kiss from a Rose (Bram Stoker’s Dracula) – Risky, I know, kittens. After all, it’s already been done, and well, on Idol this season and there’s nothing worse than being a pale imitation of a past Idol performance. That said, Anoop could spank this song and make it his bitch. And if he had enough balls to actually go there, he might create the buzz that he’s been sorely lacking and actually crack the Top 5 as he by all rights should do.
In Your Eyes (Say Anything) – Who doesn’t want a Lloyd Dobler of their very own, darlings? This song is all about wanting and passion and sex in the back of cars and love that makes you do the wacky, put on a ridiculous hat and fly off to Paris with an impossibly hot, impossibly wrong for you boy. Yes, I think Anoop could do quite well with this one.
Danny Gokey
I’m paralyzed by all the not caring, kiddies. That said, he does have a pretty voice. He should deploy it on one of the songs below and make himself slightly less annoying in the process:
Moon River (Breakfast at Tiffany’s) – I’m tired of the bombast, riffs, runs, gruff growly stuff. He needs to just sing a very lovely ballad, stripped down and bare and hit the actual notes as written in the song. He needs to sing it quietly and softly. He needs to show some subtlety and tenderness. He needs to not be on 11 all the goddamn time.
Up Where We Belong (An Officer and a Gentleman) – Conversely, he just needs to go ahead and Cocker it the hell on up on a song that can actually stand for that. Don’t try to soul-ize Jesus Take the Wheel because that dog won’t hunt. Get your gravel-ly, white boy rocks off by walking in the footsteps of the master. I actually think he may not be up to the test what with his penchant for always being just a hair under the pitch on every song, but what the hell? Let’s see if he could really bring it, noodles.
Let’s Stay Together (Pulp Fiction) – I dare you, Gokey.
Kris Allen
The sexy wolf turned back into a cute puppy last week. Just when this kid was growing on me, too. Well, one bad week after progressively getting stronger and stronger is not going to make me turn on him, but my favorite baby faced killer could definitely stand to make a comeback with one of the following songs:
Everybody’s Talkin’ (Midnight Cowboy) – He can get that pretty, sensitive singer/songwriter vibe back. He’s much better with a guitar. And the ballads take away the possibility of the crazy bad white boy dancing he unleashes on the up tempo stuff. It’s even got a kind of country feel that could rope in some of He-Man Oilman’s voting bloc.
Blaze of Glory (Young Guns) – Kittens, I know JBJ night was an atrocity. And I know that this song is cheesy. But I love it so, so much. And I think Kris could bring that little sexy swagger to it that he’s been letting peek out these last few weeks. I can’t really explain it, just a feeling.
Secret Garden (Jerry Maguire) – This song is sex in musical form. It’s so gorgeous. The very definition of “Make love to me” music. Kris would be perfection with this song and all the little girlies could pretend he was singing this just to them and not to that increasingly monkey faced wife of his.
Lil Rounds
Let’s face it, she’s toast, if not this week then surely the next, right? But since she must sing tonight, here’s what I could stomach from her:
The Way We Were (The Way We Were) – I want Lil to do the Gladys Knight version, not the Babs version. Gladys is the perfect example of a great female black singer who is not a belter. No one would argue that Gladys can’t blow. But not in the way that Patti blows. Not in the way that Whitney or Mariah blows. And Lil desperately needs to learn that having a good voice does not depend on the sheer volume at which you can sing. You also have to do pesky things like hit the right notes and have good phrasing and breath control and interpret a song with originality and emotion. If she sings this song like I know she could, like Gladys did, she might even be able to get herself legitimately back into this competition.
Let’s Hear It for the Boy (Footloose) – Let’s have fun, young mom Lil. I’m sick of her singing lite FM classic ballads. This song is just throw away pop fluff, but darlings, isn’t she like 24 years old? Life is a throw away pop ballad at 24, and if it isn’t, heavens to Betsy, shouldn’t it be? Lil seriously needs to lighten up or risk giving Carly Smithson a run for her money in the Desperation Sweepstakes.
Stormy Weather (Stormy Weather) – Lena Horne couldn’t sing. That’s a true fact, boys and girls. But she owned every inch of this song. How? She felt it and she made you feel it. She stayed true to the melody, hit all the notes, stayed in tune, didn’t try to sing outside of herself and she sold it with her interpretation. Her phrasing was impeccable. Listen to her intonation. How she takes her breaths. Where she pauses. Little things that turn this song into a classic. Lil needs to learn how to be a song stylist. And all in a week, too.
Matt Giraud
We could just toss him on the Danny/Lil trash heap of wasted potential. He had one good week where he brought it and fooled me and eleventy million goat voiced, vibrato overloaded , shitty weeks. Why should this week be any different than most others? Oh, and Justin Timberlake would eat this fool for lunch and still need a snack to tide him over ‘til supper time, darlings. Does anyone credible deny this? No, Judge #4 does not count.
The Way You Look Tonight (Swing Time) – If he sang it straight, seated at a baby grand in a lovely suit (or even a tux) and with some sincerity, it might be pretty terrific. But we all know that he would never do that, so let’s move on, shall we?
Que Sera Sera (The Man Who Knew Too Much) – Not the Doris Day version, y’all. Think the Sly and the Family Stone version. Don’t know it? Take a Listen and then tell me that, as much as we hates him, damn vibrato boy couldn’t kill it? Kittens, you know that he could. Dammit.
You Never Can Tell (Steel Magnolias) – Clever, witty, vocals right in this fool’s wheelhouse. Noodles, if he would just listen to me, Matt could actually have a decent week. My only consolation is knowing that he won’t, therefore I can go on hating him with impunity.
We’re already live on the East Coast, y'all. Have I missed the mark?
Stale Leftovers
Allison Iraheta/I Can’t Make You Love Me – Fierce! That’s all. And Simon can kiss my sweet patootie. Ok, now that’s all.
Anoop Desai/True Colors – Give me a fuckin’ break, America. Anoop sings the one song that I most wanted to hear him sing and he kills it and still you put him in the bottom 3? Noodles, tell me it was a late April Fool’s joke. Clearly one of the top performances of the night along with Adam and Allison. Others may hate, but that sexy geek can just come right on home to mama. For real.
Kris Allen/All She Wants to Do Is Dance – Don Henley put out many fine songs in the 80’s. This was not one of them. Add in the oddly lethargic swaybots and Judge #4’s only relevant critique of the entire season on that jacked up arrangement and you have Kris’ dark night of the squeaky clean soul. Poor form.
Matt Giraud/Part-Time Lover – Chicken Little did it better, kittens. Hurt my ears. And the judges are seriously on that monkey crack when it comes to this kid. The hate train is back in full effect.
Danny Gokey/Stand By Me – It’s a waste of my time to comment. He is cheesy and gross and I wish he would go home. Don’t you? I knew that you did.
Lil Rounds/What’s Love Got to Do With It? – Well, nothing where she’s concerned, kiddies. And the wigs are killing me softly. Bad angry trannys! No loose booty for you. Can we send her home next? Who is voting for her and how can I get you to stop?
White Stevie Wonder/The Search Is Over – Yes, yes it is.
Adam Lambert/Mad World – He’s magic, y’all. And thanks to the pointless addition of Judge #4, half of America didn’t even see it live. Ryan’s poor little heart was breaking right before our very eyes. You know the judge panel has got out of control when even Ryan can’t bring the show in under the wire. Can we all just admit now that the Judge #4 experiment has been a huge failure and put her out of her misery? Because Adam is magic and that performance should be up there in the pantheon with ‘Tasia’s Summertime and Carrie’s Alone and Kelly’s Stuff Like That There and Elliot’s Song for You and Jason’s Hallelujah and J.Hud’s Circle of Life. And half of DVR/TiVo America missed it. That ain’t right.
Hot and Fresh Out the Kitchen
Tonight, tonight. Oh, what these kids could do! Surprisingly, there are things that I wouldn’t mind hearing from any of the contestants left in the competition. I really think this is one of the strongest top 7 groups we’ve had in a long, long while, noodles. Even the ones I loathe I must grudgingly admit have some talent. Since we once again have a theme that invites “Basically, sing whatever you damn well please,” I’m thinking that Adam and Kris have the potential to tear it up in a few hours whereas Lil and Anoop are in trouble. (My poor Anoop does better when he’s more constrained by the theme) Anyway, if they were smart, they might attempt some of these songs:
Adam Lambert
He will kill it no matter what. Of that, there can no longer be any doubt. And he has so much room to roam here, kittens, that I am on the edge of my seat. How can he not get the pimp slot again this week? I think it nigh unto impossible. I’d listen to him sing anything, but I think I might lose all bodily functions for a while if he sang any of the following:
Come What May (Moulin Rouge) – I have long thought that nothing could touch the perfection of hearing Ewan McGregor sing this to a dying of consumption Nicole Kidman, but I think Adam singing this might break me in just the right ways. Bonus points if he wears a bindi or henna tattoos on any part of his body.
Iris (City of Angels) – It’s almost too expected from him, but I do believe that he could kill with this number.
White Wedding (The Wedding Singer) – Oh, what I’d give for a glammed out Adam getting down and dirty with some Billy Idol. Think of the places that he could grab himself, kiddies! The mind reels. Sex faces galore.
Kiss (Under the Cherry Moon) – Adam Lambert + Prince = Two great tastes that taste great together. Every loin in the place would spontaneously combust and Paula might actually climb onto the stage and copulate with the boy live on the air. On a side note, a Paula/Adam Lambert baby might be the most perfectly divine creature ever invented or might be the antichrist. Either way, massively entertaining.
Allison Iraheta
Manic Panic has done up tempo and now she’s broken our hearts with an aching ballad. She has nothing left to prove for me. Like Adam, I just want to watch and enjoy until the finals and then prepare myself for her sure to be a smash debut CD. She’s only had one teeny misstep in picking a lesser No Doubt song in Don’t Speak and still managing to deliver a decent vocal. This week, if she sings any of the following, even the crackheads in wardrobe won’t be able to stop her:
Evergreen (A Star Is Born) – I think our Manic Panic chola has an even bigger voice than she’s thus far shown us, noodles. We’re talking Barbara level chops. Yes, it’s true. Lil is not the true belter this season. Allison is. She could throw down on this song. It’s treacly tripe but the song is completely saved by the fact that Babs rips into it and eats it whole. Allison could do the same and deliver a vocal that would leave her beyond reproach, Simon.
Take Me With You (Purple Rain) – Happy, fun Prince! Who doesn’t love happy, fun Prince. This cut would allow Allison to show her younger, more playful side and quiet those critics who erroneously claim that she doesn’t have much of a personality, Simon.
Nobody Does It Better (The Spy Who Loved Me) – Because it’s true, Simon.
Anoop Desai
Kittens, he needs to resist the urge to retreat into frat boy party mode with some schlocky up tempo tune. He’s right in the pocket rocking a tenderly sexy ballad like he did with True Colors last week. This week, Anoop could get my digits and get in them jeans if he sang any of the following:
When You Say Nothing At All (Notting Hill) – Beautiful song for a beautiful voice. He could have Paula crying and we all love when Paula cries, no?
Kiss from a Rose (Bram Stoker’s Dracula) – Risky, I know, kittens. After all, it’s already been done, and well, on Idol this season and there’s nothing worse than being a pale imitation of a past Idol performance. That said, Anoop could spank this song and make it his bitch. And if he had enough balls to actually go there, he might create the buzz that he’s been sorely lacking and actually crack the Top 5 as he by all rights should do.
In Your Eyes (Say Anything) – Who doesn’t want a Lloyd Dobler of their very own, darlings? This song is all about wanting and passion and sex in the back of cars and love that makes you do the wacky, put on a ridiculous hat and fly off to Paris with an impossibly hot, impossibly wrong for you boy. Yes, I think Anoop could do quite well with this one.
Danny Gokey
I’m paralyzed by all the not caring, kiddies. That said, he does have a pretty voice. He should deploy it on one of the songs below and make himself slightly less annoying in the process:
Moon River (Breakfast at Tiffany’s) – I’m tired of the bombast, riffs, runs, gruff growly stuff. He needs to just sing a very lovely ballad, stripped down and bare and hit the actual notes as written in the song. He needs to sing it quietly and softly. He needs to show some subtlety and tenderness. He needs to not be on 11 all the goddamn time.
Up Where We Belong (An Officer and a Gentleman) – Conversely, he just needs to go ahead and Cocker it the hell on up on a song that can actually stand for that. Don’t try to soul-ize Jesus Take the Wheel because that dog won’t hunt. Get your gravel-ly, white boy rocks off by walking in the footsteps of the master. I actually think he may not be up to the test what with his penchant for always being just a hair under the pitch on every song, but what the hell? Let’s see if he could really bring it, noodles.
Let’s Stay Together (Pulp Fiction) – I dare you, Gokey.
Kris Allen
The sexy wolf turned back into a cute puppy last week. Just when this kid was growing on me, too. Well, one bad week after progressively getting stronger and stronger is not going to make me turn on him, but my favorite baby faced killer could definitely stand to make a comeback with one of the following songs:
Everybody’s Talkin’ (Midnight Cowboy) – He can get that pretty, sensitive singer/songwriter vibe back. He’s much better with a guitar. And the ballads take away the possibility of the crazy bad white boy dancing he unleashes on the up tempo stuff. It’s even got a kind of country feel that could rope in some of He-Man Oilman’s voting bloc.
Blaze of Glory (Young Guns) – Kittens, I know JBJ night was an atrocity. And I know that this song is cheesy. But I love it so, so much. And I think Kris could bring that little sexy swagger to it that he’s been letting peek out these last few weeks. I can’t really explain it, just a feeling.
Secret Garden (Jerry Maguire) – This song is sex in musical form. It’s so gorgeous. The very definition of “Make love to me” music. Kris would be perfection with this song and all the little girlies could pretend he was singing this just to them and not to that increasingly monkey faced wife of his.
Lil Rounds
Let’s face it, she’s toast, if not this week then surely the next, right? But since she must sing tonight, here’s what I could stomach from her:
The Way We Were (The Way We Were) – I want Lil to do the Gladys Knight version, not the Babs version. Gladys is the perfect example of a great female black singer who is not a belter. No one would argue that Gladys can’t blow. But not in the way that Patti blows. Not in the way that Whitney or Mariah blows. And Lil desperately needs to learn that having a good voice does not depend on the sheer volume at which you can sing. You also have to do pesky things like hit the right notes and have good phrasing and breath control and interpret a song with originality and emotion. If she sings this song like I know she could, like Gladys did, she might even be able to get herself legitimately back into this competition.
Let’s Hear It for the Boy (Footloose) – Let’s have fun, young mom Lil. I’m sick of her singing lite FM classic ballads. This song is just throw away pop fluff, but darlings, isn’t she like 24 years old? Life is a throw away pop ballad at 24, and if it isn’t, heavens to Betsy, shouldn’t it be? Lil seriously needs to lighten up or risk giving Carly Smithson a run for her money in the Desperation Sweepstakes.
Stormy Weather (Stormy Weather) – Lena Horne couldn’t sing. That’s a true fact, boys and girls. But she owned every inch of this song. How? She felt it and she made you feel it. She stayed true to the melody, hit all the notes, stayed in tune, didn’t try to sing outside of herself and she sold it with her interpretation. Her phrasing was impeccable. Listen to her intonation. How she takes her breaths. Where she pauses. Little things that turn this song into a classic. Lil needs to learn how to be a song stylist. And all in a week, too.
Matt Giraud
We could just toss him on the Danny/Lil trash heap of wasted potential. He had one good week where he brought it and fooled me and eleventy million goat voiced, vibrato overloaded , shitty weeks. Why should this week be any different than most others? Oh, and Justin Timberlake would eat this fool for lunch and still need a snack to tide him over ‘til supper time, darlings. Does anyone credible deny this? No, Judge #4 does not count.
The Way You Look Tonight (Swing Time) – If he sang it straight, seated at a baby grand in a lovely suit (or even a tux) and with some sincerity, it might be pretty terrific. But we all know that he would never do that, so let’s move on, shall we?
Que Sera Sera (The Man Who Knew Too Much) – Not the Doris Day version, y’all. Think the Sly and the Family Stone version. Don’t know it? Take a Listen and then tell me that, as much as we hates him, damn vibrato boy couldn’t kill it? Kittens, you know that he could. Dammit.
You Never Can Tell (Steel Magnolias) – Clever, witty, vocals right in this fool’s wheelhouse. Noodles, if he would just listen to me, Matt could actually have a decent week. My only consolation is knowing that he won’t, therefore I can go on hating him with impunity.
We’re already live on the East Coast, y'all. Have I missed the mark?
Monday, April 6, 2009
American Idol S8 Extra Get Offa My Lawn
These kids are too damn young, noodles. I’m trying to wrap my head around songs from the year of your birth night when the year of your birth happened in the late 80's/early 90's, but honestly. 1981 is already on notice for being the year of the last disco hangover and producing absolute dreck like the Stars on 45 Medley and anything by Foreigner. And 1993 is too young to have a "best of" anything. Talk to me when you hit drinking age. Kittens, I’m perplexed. Nonetheless, since we have to have this mostly useless theme, I’m going to lay out my suggested plan of attack for each of the remaining contestants and then we’ll see how close they come to choosing the right song (which would obviously be one of my songs). Of course, you’ll see that on TV while I will see that live and in person since I am going to the taping tomorrow night. What, what?
That’s right, kittens. Your very own will be in the house. Close enough to Ryan to touch the hem of the bespoke suit. Close enough to Simon to give him a good smack upside the head and tell him to snap out of it. Close enough to do serious bodily harm to Judge #4. Enjoy this preview, noodles, because the official recap is going to be late if it comes at all. I may be dead from breathing the rarified air of the CBS studios. Or, Paula may share the contents of her cup with me and the “Coke” may put me down for the count for several weeks.
Danny Gokey - 1981
Of course. How could it be otherwise? 1981, you are on notice. The pickings are slim in this, the year of songs that sucked ass, but there are two that might allow me to ignore the general unpleasantness of the whole Gokey thing and just go back to enjoying his admittedly beautiful voice:
Lady (You Bring Me Up), Commodores – Of course this could go horribly, horribly, “Get Ret-ty”, dancing with back up singers wrong. And probably would given who we are discussing. But it could also be kind of amazing. This song is classic Commodores funk, it’s fun and it’s Pre-Lionel becoming some washed up pop has been, which means he worked it out on the vocals. I admit the risk of nightmare inducing crotch dancing is extreme, but no guts, no glory, right kittens?
You Make My Dreams, Daryl Hall and John Oates – Gokey has the chops to do this white boy soul classic justice. Two upbeat songs? I know what you are thinking. And no, I’m not a masochist. I can’t take any more treacle from the ghoulish widower. If I have to have him on my TV screen, I want fun, goofy Gokey. No more of the dead wife drudgery. And did I mention about 1981 and the slim pickings?
Adam Lambert – 1982
Much like our boy, 1982 is magic, darlings. And really, he’s proven that he can do anything and make me love it and be slightly horrified by it and more than a little bit turned on yet repulsed all at the same time. And then beg for more. I could’ve put the whole list of top 100 songs down just to see what he would do with them, but if our little alien love god were to sing any of the songs below, well. Let’s just say that we might have a Youtube worthy incident pop off on the Idol stage as some crazed fan attacks an unsuspecting contestant on the Idol stage tomorrow night. You have been forewarned.
I Love Rock N' Roll, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts – Rocker Adam throwing in a little gender bending fun. (Bonus points if he wouldn’t change the pronouns in the song) I am already loving it. He could do it a little Brittney, breathy style, or classic Joan Jett, rocker growl howl. Or he could turn it into a sexy, slow burn ballad to his one true love, rock music. Yeah, I might like that.
Don't You Want Me, Human League – Yes, yes I do. That’s all. (Imagine if Manic Panic came out and dueted with him? Heaven!)
Hurts So Good, John Cougar – “Sink you teeth right through my bones baby/Let’s see what we can do” Kittens, I feel faint. So, all of the songs that I’ve chosen for him are about sex. Just be prepared for this. This could be amazingly fun and it could also serve to completely finish breaking the spirits and warping the minds of country music fans everywhere. Two birds with one stone.
Tainted Love, Soft Cell – How could I not? Darlings, I’ll take either the original emo/new romantic version (bonus points if he breaks into the synth pop Where Did Our Love Go? at the end) or the Marilyn Manson version. He could rock both non-stop.
Let It Whip, Dazz Band – Cognitive dissonance of the best kind. Imagine the dance moves. I think he really might just whip it out right on the stage if he sang this song. Wouldn’t that be a new frontier in AI, kiddies?
Open Arms, Journey – Because all the scuttle butt is that he got jobbed out of singing Don’t Stop Believin’ last week, and just from the tiny little lick he got in during the group lip synch, you can tell that shit would’ve been amaaaaazzzziiinnnggg. He would out diva Mariah’s version and probably send the Dawg into anaphylactic shock if he sang this song.
Gloria, Laura Branigan – I think he may have been Laura Branigan in a former life. That is all.
Kids In America, Kim Wilde – So in my secret heart of hearts, this is the one I think I really want to see him do. Every parent’s worst fear is that someone like Adam Lambert and the rest of his AI cohorts are the actual physical manifestation of today’s young man and woman. And it’s true, noodles, it’s all so true. Narcissistic. Manic. Sexually ambiguous. Conservatively promiscuous. Self aware. Totally oblivious. Serious and ridiculous. Adam Lambert is the new Obama America. This is what the Boomer’s lax parenting has wrought. And I love it.
Lil Rounds - 1984
I don’t really want to hear her singing anything, because I’ve decided that I’m over her. I know, I know, darlings. I said I would give her a free pass for one more week, but nope. She’s turned into the Vonzell of the season when I was hoping for at least the Latoya London. Therefore, she may sing one of the following bland songs from a fairly bland year blandly:
Missing You, John Waite – ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Girls Just Want To Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper – The second most boring song from one of the least boring artists of all time. Perfect for Lil. I would have to start loving her again if she were to bust out the completely awesome, chilled out, kind of reggae version of this song that Cyndi Lauper put out on her retrospective album Twelve Deadly Cyns (which is a great album that you should all run, don’t walk to buy right this minute). Anyway, Kittens, if Lil did this then we might talk about her possibly, maybe getting back into my good graces.
Time After Time, Cyndi Lauper – The first most boring song from one of the least boring artists of all time. It’s so cheesy now, I don’t know that there’s any saving it, although I used to watch this video and cry and cry and cry at how frikkin’ beautiful this song was. No bombast, no vocal tricks. Just sit there and sing it pretty and even though this song has been ravaged by time for me, Lil might win back my heart with a straightforward, touching rendition.
Love Is A Battlefield, Pat Benatar – This song is, was, and will always be made of awesome. Y’all remember what Brooke White did to this song last year? Yeah, Lil can’t do it like that. But wasn’t that seventeen different flavors of awesome, kittens? Wouldn’t you like to see something half as cool tomorrow night? If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me up.
Kris Allen - 1986
Why were so many of these kids born in 1986? Why do all of the kids born in 1986 appear to be not the same age? Like at all? These are the mysteries that keep me up at night, noodles. Anywho, 1986 had a lot of rocking songs, and oddly enough, they seem to divide evenly among our Year of the Tiger contestants. Let’s start with the suddenly blazing hot Kris, because he’s grrrrrrrreat.
Higher Love, Steve Winwood – Blue eyed soul. Mmm Mmmmm. And this song would provide some excellent, side mouth singing opportunities. Seriously, he could totally do that sexy, slinky thing that he has been bringing with a vengeance the last couple of weeks on this cut, have the back up singers wailing along and get Ricky Minor and the band (who were much improved last week, no?) to tear it up. Funky and delicious.
I'm Your Man, Wham! – The best Wham! song ever (surprisingly strong category, to be sure). Kris has been bringing it with the slow songs and the sweet vocals the last couple of weeks. I would like him to do a more up tempo, have fun song. And yes, I do remember the spazz dancing. I want to throw him a challenge. Can he maintain the sexy swagger or will he be relegated back to puppy love cuteness. How would the hottie handle it? Only Wham! can tell us. Also, you just know George Michael would like a piece of that.
Small Town, John Cougar Mellencamp – I just love this song. Vintage, vintage. And I think Kris could do well with this song. I actually don’t think he should sing it because it would not appeal to his teenybopper fan base, but I would certainly enjoy it. And isn’t it all about me, really, kiddies? Of course it is.
Anoop Desai - 1986
True Colors, Cyndi Lauper – If Lil got the worst of Cyndi, then Anoop and 86 definitely get one of the best. And he has the vocals to deliver. I don’t know what happens to him on up tempo numbers other than My Prerogative. Some random frat tool takes over and it’s really unattractive. But on ballads, you cannot touch this fool. I want to see him bring the geeky sweetheart sexy and melt the audience into a pile of goo, and this song is one of the best for that.
The Sweetest Taboo, Sade – He could also bring the goddamn swagger sexy that he is packing by the truck load and sing me some Sade. I have seen men tear it up on Sade cuts (and if you don’t believe me, peep Javier’s version of By Your Side and thank me later). This has soul, a lovely beat and a hook that can’t be denied. I think he would do well with something a little bit jazzier, too. And once again, sexy for days. And there’s no way to sing this in anything approximating a Member’s Only Jacket, a letterman’s sweater or anything that might’ve been worn on the Rhythm Nation tour, so that would seriously cut down on the possibility for fashion faux pas, no?
Matt Giraud - 1986
Holding Back The Years, Simply Red – I think he could kill on this song and make me remember that one time where I really liked him. Simple piano and a spotlight. He could be calm and give in to the soulfulness naturally there in him. And the goat voice vibrato would actually work here, since, let’s face it, Mick did get down just like that a lot of the time. This kid's never going to be my American Idol, but I think he could kill with this song and have himself a bonafide “moment”.
Life In A Northern Town, Dream Academy – This song does not get enough credit for the sheer kick assedness that it brings. I don’t know what the hell the song is about, but it sounds deep and meaningful. And I think it would suit Matt's voice and style. Again, a classic "sit at the piano and sing" song. It’s a singer’s song. And he could do it justice if he could keep his nerves in check. Besides, this is what The Fray and Coldplay and all those other bands that represent “who he wants to be as an artist” would’ve sounded like if they’d been making music back in 1986, so that should work out well for him.
White Stevie Wonder - 1986
No One Is To Blame, Howard Jones – Kittens, Howard Jones is awesome and this song is one of his more accessible ones, so there’s that. The melody is not too terribly demanding, so I don’t think it would be beyond White Stevie’s very limited capabilities. And while I hate him and everything about him, I don’t hate the song, so I might get some minimal level of enjoyment out of his performance.
I'll Be Over You, Toto – If White Stevie is going to insist on giving us Lite FM, then he might as well go with the classics. I actually think this song would kick his ass, because it’s really hard to sing, quiet as it’s kept. Muzak for the masses.
Allison Iraheta - 1993
Sigh. These kids are too damn young. This isn’t even a real birth year. I have pants older than this girl. Anyway, 1993 kicked butt and so does Manic Panic. What could she sing? Much like Adam, the better question is what couldn’t she sing? But here’s what would put me over the moon if I heard her belt it out:
Lately, Jodeci – I’m still waiting for Manic Panic to show of her tender side and sing me a pretty ballad with just a stool and a spotlight a la Paula’s perfectly reasonable request of weeks ago. (And no, Don’t Speak doesn’t count. That's a kiss off song, not a tender ballad, and kind of a crappy one at that) I think she could tear the house down on this song. And OK, so it’s really not from 1993, but that’s never stopped the show before. She can just say that she’s doing the Jodeci version.
I'll Never Get Over You (Getting Over Me), Expose – Expose is a much slept on great band of Latina hotties from the late 80's/early 90's, as I'm sure y'all know because y'all rock, and this is the last excellent song they ever made. It’s a ballad that would allow her to be vulnerable and stretch out those pipes. I don’t really know what Allison'supper register can do, but I’d sure like to find out. Wouldn’t you, darlings?
Bed Of Roses, Bon Jovi – So, not my favorite Bon Jovi song, but still a classic with a little bit of edge that I think our Manic Panic chola could sink her teeth into. As we saw with the tragic S6 JBJ night, Bon Jovi songs are no joke. JBJ has some serious chops and a ridiculous range. One might almost call it Whithney-esque. Allison could bring it here.
Cryin', Aerosmith – The thought of jailbait age Allison belting the hell out of this song whose video launched a jailbait age Alicia Silverstone to international fame and made her the object of desire for pervy old men the world over has a certain symmetry, doesn’t it? This is my absolute favorite choice for Allison. She’s got the whole raspy, blues-y voiced rocker thing going anyway. Jeans and chains and a little skin and this song and bam! Hello, votes. This is a guaranteed, no bottom three song, noodles. But really, I will love anything she sings, because she is made of awesome.
That’s it, bitches. I’m going to see the Idols tomorrow and you are not. I love how that sounds! See you on the flip side.
That’s right, kittens. Your very own will be in the house. Close enough to Ryan to touch the hem of the bespoke suit. Close enough to Simon to give him a good smack upside the head and tell him to snap out of it. Close enough to do serious bodily harm to Judge #4. Enjoy this preview, noodles, because the official recap is going to be late if it comes at all. I may be dead from breathing the rarified air of the CBS studios. Or, Paula may share the contents of her cup with me and the “Coke” may put me down for the count for several weeks.
Danny Gokey - 1981
Of course. How could it be otherwise? 1981, you are on notice. The pickings are slim in this, the year of songs that sucked ass, but there are two that might allow me to ignore the general unpleasantness of the whole Gokey thing and just go back to enjoying his admittedly beautiful voice:
Lady (You Bring Me Up), Commodores – Of course this could go horribly, horribly, “Get Ret-ty”, dancing with back up singers wrong. And probably would given who we are discussing. But it could also be kind of amazing. This song is classic Commodores funk, it’s fun and it’s Pre-Lionel becoming some washed up pop has been, which means he worked it out on the vocals. I admit the risk of nightmare inducing crotch dancing is extreme, but no guts, no glory, right kittens?
You Make My Dreams, Daryl Hall and John Oates – Gokey has the chops to do this white boy soul classic justice. Two upbeat songs? I know what you are thinking. And no, I’m not a masochist. I can’t take any more treacle from the ghoulish widower. If I have to have him on my TV screen, I want fun, goofy Gokey. No more of the dead wife drudgery. And did I mention about 1981 and the slim pickings?
Adam Lambert – 1982
Much like our boy, 1982 is magic, darlings. And really, he’s proven that he can do anything and make me love it and be slightly horrified by it and more than a little bit turned on yet repulsed all at the same time. And then beg for more. I could’ve put the whole list of top 100 songs down just to see what he would do with them, but if our little alien love god were to sing any of the songs below, well. Let’s just say that we might have a Youtube worthy incident pop off on the Idol stage as some crazed fan attacks an unsuspecting contestant on the Idol stage tomorrow night. You have been forewarned.
I Love Rock N' Roll, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts – Rocker Adam throwing in a little gender bending fun. (Bonus points if he wouldn’t change the pronouns in the song) I am already loving it. He could do it a little Brittney, breathy style, or classic Joan Jett, rocker growl howl. Or he could turn it into a sexy, slow burn ballad to his one true love, rock music. Yeah, I might like that.
Don't You Want Me, Human League – Yes, yes I do. That’s all. (Imagine if Manic Panic came out and dueted with him? Heaven!)
Hurts So Good, John Cougar – “Sink you teeth right through my bones baby/Let’s see what we can do” Kittens, I feel faint. So, all of the songs that I’ve chosen for him are about sex. Just be prepared for this. This could be amazingly fun and it could also serve to completely finish breaking the spirits and warping the minds of country music fans everywhere. Two birds with one stone.
Tainted Love, Soft Cell – How could I not? Darlings, I’ll take either the original emo/new romantic version (bonus points if he breaks into the synth pop Where Did Our Love Go? at the end) or the Marilyn Manson version. He could rock both non-stop.
Let It Whip, Dazz Band – Cognitive dissonance of the best kind. Imagine the dance moves. I think he really might just whip it out right on the stage if he sang this song. Wouldn’t that be a new frontier in AI, kiddies?
Open Arms, Journey – Because all the scuttle butt is that he got jobbed out of singing Don’t Stop Believin’ last week, and just from the tiny little lick he got in during the group lip synch, you can tell that shit would’ve been amaaaaazzzziiinnnggg. He would out diva Mariah’s version and probably send the Dawg into anaphylactic shock if he sang this song.
Gloria, Laura Branigan – I think he may have been Laura Branigan in a former life. That is all.
Kids In America, Kim Wilde – So in my secret heart of hearts, this is the one I think I really want to see him do. Every parent’s worst fear is that someone like Adam Lambert and the rest of his AI cohorts are the actual physical manifestation of today’s young man and woman. And it’s true, noodles, it’s all so true. Narcissistic. Manic. Sexually ambiguous. Conservatively promiscuous. Self aware. Totally oblivious. Serious and ridiculous. Adam Lambert is the new Obama America. This is what the Boomer’s lax parenting has wrought. And I love it.
Lil Rounds - 1984
I don’t really want to hear her singing anything, because I’ve decided that I’m over her. I know, I know, darlings. I said I would give her a free pass for one more week, but nope. She’s turned into the Vonzell of the season when I was hoping for at least the Latoya London. Therefore, she may sing one of the following bland songs from a fairly bland year blandly:
Missing You, John Waite – ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Girls Just Want To Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper – The second most boring song from one of the least boring artists of all time. Perfect for Lil. I would have to start loving her again if she were to bust out the completely awesome, chilled out, kind of reggae version of this song that Cyndi Lauper put out on her retrospective album Twelve Deadly Cyns (which is a great album that you should all run, don’t walk to buy right this minute). Anyway, Kittens, if Lil did this then we might talk about her possibly, maybe getting back into my good graces.
Time After Time, Cyndi Lauper – The first most boring song from one of the least boring artists of all time. It’s so cheesy now, I don’t know that there’s any saving it, although I used to watch this video and cry and cry and cry at how frikkin’ beautiful this song was. No bombast, no vocal tricks. Just sit there and sing it pretty and even though this song has been ravaged by time for me, Lil might win back my heart with a straightforward, touching rendition.
Love Is A Battlefield, Pat Benatar – This song is, was, and will always be made of awesome. Y’all remember what Brooke White did to this song last year? Yeah, Lil can’t do it like that. But wasn’t that seventeen different flavors of awesome, kittens? Wouldn’t you like to see something half as cool tomorrow night? If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me up.
Kris Allen - 1986
Why were so many of these kids born in 1986? Why do all of the kids born in 1986 appear to be not the same age? Like at all? These are the mysteries that keep me up at night, noodles. Anywho, 1986 had a lot of rocking songs, and oddly enough, they seem to divide evenly among our Year of the Tiger contestants. Let’s start with the suddenly blazing hot Kris, because he’s grrrrrrrreat.
Higher Love, Steve Winwood – Blue eyed soul. Mmm Mmmmm. And this song would provide some excellent, side mouth singing opportunities. Seriously, he could totally do that sexy, slinky thing that he has been bringing with a vengeance the last couple of weeks on this cut, have the back up singers wailing along and get Ricky Minor and the band (who were much improved last week, no?) to tear it up. Funky and delicious.
I'm Your Man, Wham! – The best Wham! song ever (surprisingly strong category, to be sure). Kris has been bringing it with the slow songs and the sweet vocals the last couple of weeks. I would like him to do a more up tempo, have fun song. And yes, I do remember the spazz dancing. I want to throw him a challenge. Can he maintain the sexy swagger or will he be relegated back to puppy love cuteness. How would the hottie handle it? Only Wham! can tell us. Also, you just know George Michael would like a piece of that.
Small Town, John Cougar Mellencamp – I just love this song. Vintage, vintage. And I think Kris could do well with this song. I actually don’t think he should sing it because it would not appeal to his teenybopper fan base, but I would certainly enjoy it. And isn’t it all about me, really, kiddies? Of course it is.
Anoop Desai - 1986
True Colors, Cyndi Lauper – If Lil got the worst of Cyndi, then Anoop and 86 definitely get one of the best. And he has the vocals to deliver. I don’t know what happens to him on up tempo numbers other than My Prerogative. Some random frat tool takes over and it’s really unattractive. But on ballads, you cannot touch this fool. I want to see him bring the geeky sweetheart sexy and melt the audience into a pile of goo, and this song is one of the best for that.
The Sweetest Taboo, Sade – He could also bring the goddamn swagger sexy that he is packing by the truck load and sing me some Sade. I have seen men tear it up on Sade cuts (and if you don’t believe me, peep Javier’s version of By Your Side and thank me later). This has soul, a lovely beat and a hook that can’t be denied. I think he would do well with something a little bit jazzier, too. And once again, sexy for days. And there’s no way to sing this in anything approximating a Member’s Only Jacket, a letterman’s sweater or anything that might’ve been worn on the Rhythm Nation tour, so that would seriously cut down on the possibility for fashion faux pas, no?
Matt Giraud - 1986
Holding Back The Years, Simply Red – I think he could kill on this song and make me remember that one time where I really liked him. Simple piano and a spotlight. He could be calm and give in to the soulfulness naturally there in him. And the goat voice vibrato would actually work here, since, let’s face it, Mick did get down just like that a lot of the time. This kid's never going to be my American Idol, but I think he could kill with this song and have himself a bonafide “moment”.
Life In A Northern Town, Dream Academy – This song does not get enough credit for the sheer kick assedness that it brings. I don’t know what the hell the song is about, but it sounds deep and meaningful. And I think it would suit Matt's voice and style. Again, a classic "sit at the piano and sing" song. It’s a singer’s song. And he could do it justice if he could keep his nerves in check. Besides, this is what The Fray and Coldplay and all those other bands that represent “who he wants to be as an artist” would’ve sounded like if they’d been making music back in 1986, so that should work out well for him.
White Stevie Wonder - 1986
No One Is To Blame, Howard Jones – Kittens, Howard Jones is awesome and this song is one of his more accessible ones, so there’s that. The melody is not too terribly demanding, so I don’t think it would be beyond White Stevie’s very limited capabilities. And while I hate him and everything about him, I don’t hate the song, so I might get some minimal level of enjoyment out of his performance.
I'll Be Over You, Toto – If White Stevie is going to insist on giving us Lite FM, then he might as well go with the classics. I actually think this song would kick his ass, because it’s really hard to sing, quiet as it’s kept. Muzak for the masses.
Allison Iraheta - 1993
Sigh. These kids are too damn young. This isn’t even a real birth year. I have pants older than this girl. Anyway, 1993 kicked butt and so does Manic Panic. What could she sing? Much like Adam, the better question is what couldn’t she sing? But here’s what would put me over the moon if I heard her belt it out:
Lately, Jodeci – I’m still waiting for Manic Panic to show of her tender side and sing me a pretty ballad with just a stool and a spotlight a la Paula’s perfectly reasonable request of weeks ago. (And no, Don’t Speak doesn’t count. That's a kiss off song, not a tender ballad, and kind of a crappy one at that) I think she could tear the house down on this song. And OK, so it’s really not from 1993, but that’s never stopped the show before. She can just say that she’s doing the Jodeci version.
I'll Never Get Over You (Getting Over Me), Expose – Expose is a much slept on great band of Latina hotties from the late 80's/early 90's, as I'm sure y'all know because y'all rock, and this is the last excellent song they ever made. It’s a ballad that would allow her to be vulnerable and stretch out those pipes. I don’t really know what Allison'supper register can do, but I’d sure like to find out. Wouldn’t you, darlings?
Bed Of Roses, Bon Jovi – So, not my favorite Bon Jovi song, but still a classic with a little bit of edge that I think our Manic Panic chola could sink her teeth into. As we saw with the tragic S6 JBJ night, Bon Jovi songs are no joke. JBJ has some serious chops and a ridiculous range. One might almost call it Whithney-esque. Allison could bring it here.
Cryin', Aerosmith – The thought of jailbait age Allison belting the hell out of this song whose video launched a jailbait age Alicia Silverstone to international fame and made her the object of desire for pervy old men the world over has a certain symmetry, doesn’t it? This is my absolute favorite choice for Allison. She’s got the whole raspy, blues-y voiced rocker thing going anyway. Jeans and chains and a little skin and this song and bam! Hello, votes. This is a guaranteed, no bottom three song, noodles. But really, I will love anything she sings, because she is made of awesome.
That’s it, bitches. I’m going to see the Idols tomorrow and you are not. I love how that sounds! See you on the flip side.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep8 No Woman, No Cry
Hmmm, a détente in Idol’s ongoing war against my soul. There were things to like about last night’s results show, kittens. What? OK, yes, there was a pantsless woman with a zipper over one eye having a seizure. And this was proceeded by a sleepy performance by a man whose giant forehead requires such a massive comb forward that it leaves a tiny bald patch on the crown of his head. But let’s just move past that, right? Let’s talk about the ways that AI tried to make up with me last night.
Everyone hates Judge #4
Oh, Judge #4. Getting booed is not the same thing as getting heckled. Everyone knows that but you. And obviously you don’t like it. Who would? Pretty soon, even the Dawg will turn on you because he’s stupid like a fox, no? And then what will you have left? Bitchface only gets you so far. Just ask Lil.
At least Paula’s breasts weren’t all up in my face
So the fashion was still horrible. Lil had the bad wig on again and it looked like she slept in it, which made it bad and rumpled. Also, I at first thought that the white strapless maternity top and white jeans combo she was rocking was a jumpsuit. Thankfully, it was just an ugly ass top designed to make her look like a lactation device and white jeans. Oh, I’m sorry, white peg leg jeans (Peg. Leg. AGAIN!) which was bad, but not as bad as wearing basically an enormous, full body sized adult diaper. Tattoo Sleeve had on a red bubble romper dress and looked ridiculous, but bitch “caw cawed” like a million times and went home last night, so who cares? On the plus side, Allison was dressed like a human being and not a baby Franken-hooker and Paula was ready for the Ice Capades, but most ways decent. And Kris Allen and Adam Lambert were rocking the hell out of some skinny jeans and being the very definition of sex in completely different and yet equally thrilling ways. This was a victory, noodles. Speaking of . . .
Kris Allen is hotter than the sun
Kittens, when did this happen? I was happy with my East Asian geeky sexy and my alien boy/girl future sexy and then all of a sudden, wham. Here comes Kris with the pretty boy sexy all up in my grill. And when he laid down a couple of verses in the pimp-mercial? White boy had some flow, what? Simon was so right. This kid is finally starting to feel himself and it is a beautiful, beautiful thing. Swagger.
Gokey’s assitude is out of control
So here’s why Allison and Anoop came off as sweetly ribbing their Idol-mates while Gokey confirmed his total douchebag status and found himself ensnared in Ryan’s trap last night. Gokey’s an ass. He can’t help it, even though he tries to hide it behind an “Aw shucks, Jesus rocks” façade. And that façade slipped harder than a stripper in a new pair of Lucite heels last night. Let’s see, choose the worst performance that Matt G. has done on the show. Go after his worst feature, the goat voice vibrato, and really overplay the hell out of it. What a deliciously mean boy cocktail we had on display. I smell a “shocking” elimination around the corner, kiddies. And I cannot wait!
The universe hates Tattoo Sleeve just as much as I do
What an ignominious exit for Caw Caw Corkery, darlings! She acted like a mental patient the entire night. She tried to diss Simon and got the beat down of the century in return for her troubles. And she unleashed a spate of spazz dancing that puts Jason Castro to shame and will live on in the annals of Idol history as how not to go out when they’re ringing your curtain down. Humiliation. Mmmmmm. Tastes like candy.
Yep, kittens, Idol and I have had a rapprochement. I might even have to write a post speculating on what fresh hell will be unleashed upon us with Songs from Your Birth Year night. Wasn’t Allison born in like 2000? The mind reels, darlings.
Everyone hates Judge #4
Oh, Judge #4. Getting booed is not the same thing as getting heckled. Everyone knows that but you. And obviously you don’t like it. Who would? Pretty soon, even the Dawg will turn on you because he’s stupid like a fox, no? And then what will you have left? Bitchface only gets you so far. Just ask Lil.
At least Paula’s breasts weren’t all up in my face
So the fashion was still horrible. Lil had the bad wig on again and it looked like she slept in it, which made it bad and rumpled. Also, I at first thought that the white strapless maternity top and white jeans combo she was rocking was a jumpsuit. Thankfully, it was just an ugly ass top designed to make her look like a lactation device and white jeans. Oh, I’m sorry, white peg leg jeans (Peg. Leg. AGAIN!) which was bad, but not as bad as wearing basically an enormous, full body sized adult diaper. Tattoo Sleeve had on a red bubble romper dress and looked ridiculous, but bitch “caw cawed” like a million times and went home last night, so who cares? On the plus side, Allison was dressed like a human being and not a baby Franken-hooker and Paula was ready for the Ice Capades, but most ways decent. And Kris Allen and Adam Lambert were rocking the hell out of some skinny jeans and being the very definition of sex in completely different and yet equally thrilling ways. This was a victory, noodles. Speaking of . . .
Kris Allen is hotter than the sun
Kittens, when did this happen? I was happy with my East Asian geeky sexy and my alien boy/girl future sexy and then all of a sudden, wham. Here comes Kris with the pretty boy sexy all up in my grill. And when he laid down a couple of verses in the pimp-mercial? White boy had some flow, what? Simon was so right. This kid is finally starting to feel himself and it is a beautiful, beautiful thing. Swagger.
Gokey’s assitude is out of control
So here’s why Allison and Anoop came off as sweetly ribbing their Idol-mates while Gokey confirmed his total douchebag status and found himself ensnared in Ryan’s trap last night. Gokey’s an ass. He can’t help it, even though he tries to hide it behind an “Aw shucks, Jesus rocks” façade. And that façade slipped harder than a stripper in a new pair of Lucite heels last night. Let’s see, choose the worst performance that Matt G. has done on the show. Go after his worst feature, the goat voice vibrato, and really overplay the hell out of it. What a deliciously mean boy cocktail we had on display. I smell a “shocking” elimination around the corner, kiddies. And I cannot wait!
The universe hates Tattoo Sleeve just as much as I do
What an ignominious exit for Caw Caw Corkery, darlings! She acted like a mental patient the entire night. She tried to diss Simon and got the beat down of the century in return for her troubles. And she unleashed a spate of spazz dancing that puts Jason Castro to shame and will live on in the annals of Idol history as how not to go out when they’re ringing your curtain down. Humiliation. Mmmmmm. Tastes like candy.
Yep, kittens, Idol and I have had a rapprochement. I might even have to write a post speculating on what fresh hell will be unleashed upon us with Songs from Your Birth Year night. Wasn’t Allison born in like 2000? The mind reels, darlings.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
American Idol S8 Finals Ep7 Gently, With a Chainsaw
It’s official. Season 8 is trying to kill me. Kittens, where to even begin with top downloads night? Is this a thing? I think this may be the worst theme they’ve ever had. Worse than Songs Gwen Stefani Likes night. Worse than Inspirational Songs night. Worse than Songs of the 21st Century night. Because at least those are things, no? Top Downloads? From when? Half the kids jumped into their way back machines and revisited those halcyon days of downloading from the late 70’s/early 80’s when polyester was king and everyone had an IBM 7000 in the cold storage wing of the downstairs rec room. Feh. Simon Fuller has obviously been infected by the stupid virus, for which Judge #4 is patient zero. Let’s examine the ways in which the show is slowly chipping away at my soul.
The bad fashion is giving me night tremors
I know, I know. It’s always been bad, but this year it’s even more aggressively awful. The judges’ entrance is forcing us every week to confront Paula’s wardrobe head to toe. And this season, she’ll really not be happy until she shares her breasts with the world. The angry trannys in hair and make up keep forcing Lil Rounds to wear ever less convincing wigs from the Diahann Carroll Dynasty collection and that shit is just not right. Last night, the crack whores in wardrobe outdid themselves and put Allison in a tartan picnic blanket with bedazzled piano key shoelaces used as piping and white, high heeled orthopedic shoes with Chia Pet hair and it was not of the lord. And that’s not even counting the aggressive wrongness of Tattoo Sleeve’s “M” rhinestone belt buckle worn as a necklace, mom jeans, and turquoise bustier (and every other outfit she has worn so far this season) or the fact that White Stevie Wonder’s entire head looked like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket just before coming on stage last night. Stop the madness. (That’s a shout out to Simon’s complete and total metamorphosis into a Susan Powter clone)
Paula continues to be the only judge who makes even a lick of sense
And that’s what’s wrong with America. She’s using actual musical terms and giving specific critiques to the kids. And hardly even one “rainbow” or “colors of your voice”. She slaps these kids down when they suck, sometimes hard. Bitch has some venom in her. And that is something that we did not need to know about Paula Abdul, kiddies. It’s like walking in on your sweet auntie getting herself off with her vibrator. Illusions shattered. Judge #4 has forced Paula to get off the sauce and actually up her game just by her mere presence. And in doing so, we’ve all lost something precious. I can’t even go there with Judge #4 and the Dawg and their club for stupid people because y’all know all about how I feel about that. I'll just say that when I do not derive enjoyment out of audience members openly heckling Judge #4 as she is trying to give her "critique", then the terrorists have won. And Simon, my Simon, being co-opted by the evil that is this show. Pimping not for himself, but insted getting pimped out by Daddy Fuller. Refusing to say the things that need to be said, that everyone at home on their couch is screaming at their TV, because he’s afraid to upset the show’s apple cart. Y’all, my heart is broken. Simon and I, we are no longer as one. And you can tell that it’s killing him. The teeny tiny amount that he used to care about the show and these kids is gone and he’s reduced to dicking around and drawing mustaches on Paula and screwing with Judge #4 (which is awesome but also a total dick move). Kittens, we just need to start all over again.
Half of the kids on the show are actively gross and unpleasant
In order of appearance:
Megan Corkery/Turn Your Lights Down Low - Everything awful about Tattoo Sleeve was on front street last night. If she doesn’t go home now, she will waltz away with the S8 crown, kiddies. Her voice sounded like it always does and if you like that, then you are a nutbag and if you don’t, then you can hear, so what else is new? The song choice was once again a song that was not a song. Bob Marley songs are a movement and unless you are one of his fifteen million children or a former member of The Fugees, then you can’t sing them. Period. The outfit screamed “I’m quirky!” without actually being unique or memorable in any way. And the attitude was way out of proportion to the actual talent level on display. She’s more disgusting than Rose Flack’s feet and people out there love her and vote for her. That frightens me, noodles.
Danny Gokey/What Hurts the Most - His performance was not even half as good as that fat kid on Youtube. And the Dead Wife grossness was back in full effect. He has a beautiful voice and while there were some pitch problems here and there, for the most part, he rocked that song. Which makes all the other bullshit that comes with his particular package even harder to take. Because he doesn’t even need it, darlings. He doesn’t need the smarm and the cheese and the Dead Wife backstory. He could win just because he is a good singer. What? But instead, he does the Oprah thing of putting all of his business in the street and asking us to justify his entire existence on this planet and in particular his cynical decision to go on a TV show watched by millions a minute after his wife died tragically young. You know what, noodles? Fuck that noise. It’s gross and wrong that he’s trailing his grief and need and not dealing with losing his loved one all over my TV every week. Gah. Hate. So. Much. Hate.
White Stevie Wonder/Just the Way You Are - In the 1979, leisure suit wearing, lounge lizard lovin’, white man’s fro version of the world that he lives in, White Stevie is rocking the shit out of this competition. In the real world, he can’t sing and all he is is his challenge. And that’s wrong. America needs to go read No Pity and stop babying this fool who any right minded person knows will never, ever, ever be a pop star. Not an adult contemporary star. Not a country music star. Not a star of any variety, stripe or flavor. He’s not even good enough to open some of the smaller rooms in Vegas and be voted Entertainer of the Year for a million years running like Danny Gans or whoever is popular in Vegas at the moment. He just does not have the juice and it’s wrong and says bad things about Americans and our core values that we are keeping this fool on the show. And his refusal to get up from the piano denies us our god given right to see pratfalls. That’s all.
Matt Giraud/You Found Me - Oh, look! Yet more new and interesting ways for people to be nasty pieces of work. Charming. Matt G. is all unearned arrogance and imagined charm that adds up to a whole lot of nothing. The song didn’t suit him. The goat voice was back in full vibrato’d glory. I was just praying that the swaybots would turn into a raving group of Maenads and tear him limb from limb in a Bacchanalian festival of carnage. But no such luck, kittens. The forehead tumor lives on to grow even bigger and more grotesque. And he lives on to smarm and smartass his way towards becoming the authentic tool that he was born to be. Why doesn’t Ryan just pull out a pistol and shoot me now?
The other half of the kids on this show are hopelessly misguided with occasional flashes of brilliance
It’s the occasional flashes of brilliance that will kill ya. They tease and taunt and give just enough to live on until the next week, and then they break your heart in just that way that burns. They know how to make it hurt, darlings, but keep you begging for another slap.
In order of appearance:
Anoop Desai/Caught Up - He was trying waaaayyy too hard to get his sexy on. It was a total watch from the hall moment, no? He is geeky, chu chu fly fabulous and his sexy and swagger are off the charts, but in a whole different way than Usher. And to see him try so desperately to be down in that very specific, hot boy way was painful and utterly creepy and unnecessary. Poor Anouk, standing there in his Rhythm Nation cast off jacket with his still too bushy by half eyebrows and his stale riffs. I just wanted to give him a hug. I mean, when you get so off track that you can legitimately get ripped on by Judge #4, then you know that you have gone way, way off track. His authentic swagger is fire, but this put on crap is beyond ridiculous. First time ever that I hated him.
Adam Lambert/Play That Funky Music - Oh, baby, no. Was it amazing? Sure. Was it creepy and hot and sexy and off putting and dangerous in a Broadway Jets/Sharks knife fight kind of way? Well, sure. Because it’s Adam. And he’s like some freak of nature man/woman/boy/girl sex icon who is not really attractive but totally hot and unwatchable except he isn’t. That is the Lambert magic. But this was, to steal from Simon, indulgent nonsense. This was fucking with the home audience just because he can. Just having fun pleasing himself. And that’s not what this show is about and it’s not what he’s here for. He’s here to please me. This is the ultimate “Dance, monkey, dance” show. And if you don’t care to dance, then take your broke broke home. Sigh. Of all the most popular downloads, this is the one that he chose? Hell to the naw, kittens. We are not amused.
Lil Rounds/I surrender - This is the last week that she escapes hateration, y’all. And not because she let them trick her out in that swap meet synthetic hair or because they stuffed her into a seafoam green, gauze sausage casing that made her resemble the Venus of Willendorf, or even because she decided to sing Celine even though, as we’ve discussed, she has not got it like that. No, she will join the hall of offenders for letting the show pimp out her kids to save herself from elimination. The tears and Ryan in his bespoke, London cut, impeccably tailored suit at his ultimate of adorableness with those tiny kids and even the Dawg being humanized by that little ball of wonderful and all to distract us from how incredibly suck ass her performance was. And none of them called her on the pitch problems or the lack of breath control that made her cut short every single glory note and gasp her way through the back half of the song. And OK, Simon makes the point that while she’s a good singer, she’s not a Celine singer. She’s not a Whitney nor a Mariah. She can fake Mary, but she’s really not that either. She doesn’t belt. She grooves. So groove. Or be relegated to the scrap heap with Danny and Megan and Matt G. and the rest of the losers.
The other other half of the kids on this show are victims of the out of control pimping going on
So, there’s always out of control pimping going on, right? After all This. Is. American Idol. (Cue music) But normally, they are pimping talented people. People who would enjoy a legitimate shot at winning anyway, which is why the pimping is so annoying. Not because it’s manipulative because this show is all about manipulation, just like the country whose soul it mirrors. No, it’s annoying because it’s unnecessary. The people that they pimp are the ones who would already be winning. But this year, something special is happening. They are pimping ghoulish widowers who probably would’ve never made it out of the early audition rounds without massive propping. Simon, of all people, is championing a blind cruise ship singer’s talent and declaring him one of the best of the night. They are stepping over cute, commercially viable artists who scream out “Get money!” in favor of the mediocre second alto to the left in any black church on any given Sunday. I may not have enjoyed the Fivehead, but he had a kind of a whacked out star quality that was undeniable and he didn’t make it to the top of the heap by capitalizing on his cancer stricken brother. I have no words for what happened to Allison and even Kris a little bit last night, and really over the course of the entire season. It’s foul and makes me hate myself for loving this show, which is anathema to me because I have no shame about liking schlocky pop culture. Party foul, kittens.
In order of appearance:
Allison Iraheta/Don’t Speak - A great song sung greatly by my Manic Panic chola last night. Was she done in by the Halloween wardrobe? You have eyes, don’t you? But as Paula wisely noted, she’s sixteen. And I think she’s also kind of stupid on top of that. Of course she would wear that. She’s a minute out of playing dress up in her mama’s bedroom. Let’s talk about the voice, though, shall we? On this. A singing show. A competition. To find a pop superstar. With a good voice. Remember, noodles? She turned it all the way out again. Some more. As usual. Throw up a finger to the two Simons. We get it. You don’t like Allison and you don’t think she should crash your top 2 party. That’s because you have lost your minds in this, the season determined to kill me.
Kris Allen/Ain’t No Sunshine - Not what I would’ve imagined out of this kid at all. He continues to surprise and impress, to stretch and grow. It was a competent vocal, not the best thing ever and perhaps his voice is a tad too light to really bring it with this song. But it was a hell of a performance. When did this kid become so dead sexy? God damn, y’all. He’s fine. That was definitely some baby making music that he laid down on that stage. And pimp slot aside, he did not get the props that he deserved. That was not just his best, but the best of the evening, right? And putting him after Adam who is a bonafide sex machine just takes a little bit away – makes us remember that Kris is Disneyland sex whereas Adam is Times Square pre-Guiliani era sex and why that matters. Any other year, they’d be pushing this kid like Ecstasy at a rave. This year, if you don’t have a cute child or a dead wife, well then you just can’t get no love from the Idol crew.
Fivehead and Lady Gaga are the results show musical guests
Kittens, I didn’t even write about last week’s results show because I’m not getting paid for this shit, so why put myself out? And y’all should be prepared for that to happen again. Hell, given the sentence above, there’s a strong possibility that I won’t even watch. If anyone other than Tattoo Sleeve goes home, it will be the wrong choice. And we’ll still be left with a pocketful of manure. And I honestly would rather chew glass than listen to Fivehead. So you’ll either hear from me tomorrow or next week, but really does it even matter anymore, kiddies? Ju’not and Ricky Braddy should be tearing a swath through the competition en route to their epic showdown at the Kodak right about now, but instead we are served up this hot mess.
Killing me softly, y’all. I swear.
The bad fashion is giving me night tremors
I know, I know. It’s always been bad, but this year it’s even more aggressively awful. The judges’ entrance is forcing us every week to confront Paula’s wardrobe head to toe. And this season, she’ll really not be happy until she shares her breasts with the world. The angry trannys in hair and make up keep forcing Lil Rounds to wear ever less convincing wigs from the Diahann Carroll Dynasty collection and that shit is just not right. Last night, the crack whores in wardrobe outdid themselves and put Allison in a tartan picnic blanket with bedazzled piano key shoelaces used as piping and white, high heeled orthopedic shoes with Chia Pet hair and it was not of the lord. And that’s not even counting the aggressive wrongness of Tattoo Sleeve’s “M” rhinestone belt buckle worn as a necklace, mom jeans, and turquoise bustier (and every other outfit she has worn so far this season) or the fact that White Stevie Wonder’s entire head looked like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket just before coming on stage last night. Stop the madness. (That’s a shout out to Simon’s complete and total metamorphosis into a Susan Powter clone)
Paula continues to be the only judge who makes even a lick of sense
And that’s what’s wrong with America. She’s using actual musical terms and giving specific critiques to the kids. And hardly even one “rainbow” or “colors of your voice”. She slaps these kids down when they suck, sometimes hard. Bitch has some venom in her. And that is something that we did not need to know about Paula Abdul, kiddies. It’s like walking in on your sweet auntie getting herself off with her vibrator. Illusions shattered. Judge #4 has forced Paula to get off the sauce and actually up her game just by her mere presence. And in doing so, we’ve all lost something precious. I can’t even go there with Judge #4 and the Dawg and their club for stupid people because y’all know all about how I feel about that. I'll just say that when I do not derive enjoyment out of audience members openly heckling Judge #4 as she is trying to give her "critique", then the terrorists have won. And Simon, my Simon, being co-opted by the evil that is this show. Pimping not for himself, but insted getting pimped out by Daddy Fuller. Refusing to say the things that need to be said, that everyone at home on their couch is screaming at their TV, because he’s afraid to upset the show’s apple cart. Y’all, my heart is broken. Simon and I, we are no longer as one. And you can tell that it’s killing him. The teeny tiny amount that he used to care about the show and these kids is gone and he’s reduced to dicking around and drawing mustaches on Paula and screwing with Judge #4 (which is awesome but also a total dick move). Kittens, we just need to start all over again.
Half of the kids on the show are actively gross and unpleasant
In order of appearance:
Megan Corkery/Turn Your Lights Down Low - Everything awful about Tattoo Sleeve was on front street last night. If she doesn’t go home now, she will waltz away with the S8 crown, kiddies. Her voice sounded like it always does and if you like that, then you are a nutbag and if you don’t, then you can hear, so what else is new? The song choice was once again a song that was not a song. Bob Marley songs are a movement and unless you are one of his fifteen million children or a former member of The Fugees, then you can’t sing them. Period. The outfit screamed “I’m quirky!” without actually being unique or memorable in any way. And the attitude was way out of proportion to the actual talent level on display. She’s more disgusting than Rose Flack’s feet and people out there love her and vote for her. That frightens me, noodles.
Danny Gokey/What Hurts the Most - His performance was not even half as good as that fat kid on Youtube. And the Dead Wife grossness was back in full effect. He has a beautiful voice and while there were some pitch problems here and there, for the most part, he rocked that song. Which makes all the other bullshit that comes with his particular package even harder to take. Because he doesn’t even need it, darlings. He doesn’t need the smarm and the cheese and the Dead Wife backstory. He could win just because he is a good singer. What? But instead, he does the Oprah thing of putting all of his business in the street and asking us to justify his entire existence on this planet and in particular his cynical decision to go on a TV show watched by millions a minute after his wife died tragically young. You know what, noodles? Fuck that noise. It’s gross and wrong that he’s trailing his grief and need and not dealing with losing his loved one all over my TV every week. Gah. Hate. So. Much. Hate.
White Stevie Wonder/Just the Way You Are - In the 1979, leisure suit wearing, lounge lizard lovin’, white man’s fro version of the world that he lives in, White Stevie is rocking the shit out of this competition. In the real world, he can’t sing and all he is is his challenge. And that’s wrong. America needs to go read No Pity and stop babying this fool who any right minded person knows will never, ever, ever be a pop star. Not an adult contemporary star. Not a country music star. Not a star of any variety, stripe or flavor. He’s not even good enough to open some of the smaller rooms in Vegas and be voted Entertainer of the Year for a million years running like Danny Gans or whoever is popular in Vegas at the moment. He just does not have the juice and it’s wrong and says bad things about Americans and our core values that we are keeping this fool on the show. And his refusal to get up from the piano denies us our god given right to see pratfalls. That’s all.
Matt Giraud/You Found Me - Oh, look! Yet more new and interesting ways for people to be nasty pieces of work. Charming. Matt G. is all unearned arrogance and imagined charm that adds up to a whole lot of nothing. The song didn’t suit him. The goat voice was back in full vibrato’d glory. I was just praying that the swaybots would turn into a raving group of Maenads and tear him limb from limb in a Bacchanalian festival of carnage. But no such luck, kittens. The forehead tumor lives on to grow even bigger and more grotesque. And he lives on to smarm and smartass his way towards becoming the authentic tool that he was born to be. Why doesn’t Ryan just pull out a pistol and shoot me now?
The other half of the kids on this show are hopelessly misguided with occasional flashes of brilliance
It’s the occasional flashes of brilliance that will kill ya. They tease and taunt and give just enough to live on until the next week, and then they break your heart in just that way that burns. They know how to make it hurt, darlings, but keep you begging for another slap.
In order of appearance:
Anoop Desai/Caught Up - He was trying waaaayyy too hard to get his sexy on. It was a total watch from the hall moment, no? He is geeky, chu chu fly fabulous and his sexy and swagger are off the charts, but in a whole different way than Usher. And to see him try so desperately to be down in that very specific, hot boy way was painful and utterly creepy and unnecessary. Poor Anouk, standing there in his Rhythm Nation cast off jacket with his still too bushy by half eyebrows and his stale riffs. I just wanted to give him a hug. I mean, when you get so off track that you can legitimately get ripped on by Judge #4, then you know that you have gone way, way off track. His authentic swagger is fire, but this put on crap is beyond ridiculous. First time ever that I hated him.
Adam Lambert/Play That Funky Music - Oh, baby, no. Was it amazing? Sure. Was it creepy and hot and sexy and off putting and dangerous in a Broadway Jets/Sharks knife fight kind of way? Well, sure. Because it’s Adam. And he’s like some freak of nature man/woman/boy/girl sex icon who is not really attractive but totally hot and unwatchable except he isn’t. That is the Lambert magic. But this was, to steal from Simon, indulgent nonsense. This was fucking with the home audience just because he can. Just having fun pleasing himself. And that’s not what this show is about and it’s not what he’s here for. He’s here to please me. This is the ultimate “Dance, monkey, dance” show. And if you don’t care to dance, then take your broke broke home. Sigh. Of all the most popular downloads, this is the one that he chose? Hell to the naw, kittens. We are not amused.
Lil Rounds/I surrender - This is the last week that she escapes hateration, y’all. And not because she let them trick her out in that swap meet synthetic hair or because they stuffed her into a seafoam green, gauze sausage casing that made her resemble the Venus of Willendorf, or even because she decided to sing Celine even though, as we’ve discussed, she has not got it like that. No, she will join the hall of offenders for letting the show pimp out her kids to save herself from elimination. The tears and Ryan in his bespoke, London cut, impeccably tailored suit at his ultimate of adorableness with those tiny kids and even the Dawg being humanized by that little ball of wonderful and all to distract us from how incredibly suck ass her performance was. And none of them called her on the pitch problems or the lack of breath control that made her cut short every single glory note and gasp her way through the back half of the song. And OK, Simon makes the point that while she’s a good singer, she’s not a Celine singer. She’s not a Whitney nor a Mariah. She can fake Mary, but she’s really not that either. She doesn’t belt. She grooves. So groove. Or be relegated to the scrap heap with Danny and Megan and Matt G. and the rest of the losers.
The other other half of the kids on this show are victims of the out of control pimping going on
So, there’s always out of control pimping going on, right? After all This. Is. American Idol. (Cue music) But normally, they are pimping talented people. People who would enjoy a legitimate shot at winning anyway, which is why the pimping is so annoying. Not because it’s manipulative because this show is all about manipulation, just like the country whose soul it mirrors. No, it’s annoying because it’s unnecessary. The people that they pimp are the ones who would already be winning. But this year, something special is happening. They are pimping ghoulish widowers who probably would’ve never made it out of the early audition rounds without massive propping. Simon, of all people, is championing a blind cruise ship singer’s talent and declaring him one of the best of the night. They are stepping over cute, commercially viable artists who scream out “Get money!” in favor of the mediocre second alto to the left in any black church on any given Sunday. I may not have enjoyed the Fivehead, but he had a kind of a whacked out star quality that was undeniable and he didn’t make it to the top of the heap by capitalizing on his cancer stricken brother. I have no words for what happened to Allison and even Kris a little bit last night, and really over the course of the entire season. It’s foul and makes me hate myself for loving this show, which is anathema to me because I have no shame about liking schlocky pop culture. Party foul, kittens.
In order of appearance:
Allison Iraheta/Don’t Speak - A great song sung greatly by my Manic Panic chola last night. Was she done in by the Halloween wardrobe? You have eyes, don’t you? But as Paula wisely noted, she’s sixteen. And I think she’s also kind of stupid on top of that. Of course she would wear that. She’s a minute out of playing dress up in her mama’s bedroom. Let’s talk about the voice, though, shall we? On this. A singing show. A competition. To find a pop superstar. With a good voice. Remember, noodles? She turned it all the way out again. Some more. As usual. Throw up a finger to the two Simons. We get it. You don’t like Allison and you don’t think she should crash your top 2 party. That’s because you have lost your minds in this, the season determined to kill me.
Kris Allen/Ain’t No Sunshine - Not what I would’ve imagined out of this kid at all. He continues to surprise and impress, to stretch and grow. It was a competent vocal, not the best thing ever and perhaps his voice is a tad too light to really bring it with this song. But it was a hell of a performance. When did this kid become so dead sexy? God damn, y’all. He’s fine. That was definitely some baby making music that he laid down on that stage. And pimp slot aside, he did not get the props that he deserved. That was not just his best, but the best of the evening, right? And putting him after Adam who is a bonafide sex machine just takes a little bit away – makes us remember that Kris is Disneyland sex whereas Adam is Times Square pre-Guiliani era sex and why that matters. Any other year, they’d be pushing this kid like Ecstasy at a rave. This year, if you don’t have a cute child or a dead wife, well then you just can’t get no love from the Idol crew.
Fivehead and Lady Gaga are the results show musical guests
Kittens, I didn’t even write about last week’s results show because I’m not getting paid for this shit, so why put myself out? And y’all should be prepared for that to happen again. Hell, given the sentence above, there’s a strong possibility that I won’t even watch. If anyone other than Tattoo Sleeve goes home, it will be the wrong choice. And we’ll still be left with a pocketful of manure. And I honestly would rather chew glass than listen to Fivehead. So you’ll either hear from me tomorrow or next week, but really does it even matter anymore, kiddies? Ju’not and Ricky Braddy should be tearing a swath through the competition en route to their epic showdown at the Kodak right about now, but instead we are served up this hot mess.
Killing me softly, y’all. I swear.
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