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American Idol moved onto the big stage last night, and without the presence of Lilly Scott or Todrick Hall or Alex Lambert or Katelyn Epperly, I feared we may be worse for wear. After all, it's safe to say that none of those four truly deserved an ouster last week (I'd have reserved that honor for Aaron Kelly, Andrew Garcia, Katie Stevens, and Paige Miles). Part of the fun of Idol, however, is its unpredictability, and so even though I'm not totally pleased with our top twelve, I'm happy to go along for the ride. The question is this: did last week's underperformers (see parenthetical above) do enough to warrant their spot in the top dozen?

I thought I'd switch things up a little this week and write about the boyz and the girlz of American Idol all in one post. Why? Well, because I forgot to write about the girls yesterday. Nevertheless, after enduring a third improved but not necessarily exciting week of semifinals, we are poised to learn who this year's top twelve will be. There seem to be some shoo-ins -- Big Mike, Crystal Bowersox, Casey James. However, there are plenty of bubble performers, and I wouldn't be shocked if we had some surprise eliminations tonight.

I didn't watch American Idol last night because honestly, my DVR was blowin' up at 8 PM, and if I have to choose between Survivor, Community, and a one hour results show featuring Danny Gokey, guess which one's getting dropped? And so it was with great shame that I sacrificed Idol for the greater good, but I did hear the results. Discussion after the jump.

'Twas ladies night on American Idol yesterday, and overall I'd say things were a smidgen improved. Sure there were some full-out duds, and sure I disagreed with the judges on occasion, but it looks like this season is inching ever so slowly in the right direction. I still don't see any superstars in the group, but maybe once we've whittled the pack down to twelve contenders, things will open up.

I watched American Idol last night after midnight and thus had a very strong litmus test for who I liked, and who I didn't: those who put me asleep were in the "not like" category. Everyone else was fine. Of course, this method tended to bias those who performed earlier in the night, but no matter -- it still seemed to work out just fine. Truth be told, this second stab at singing for the men was much, much improved. There still are no superstars per se, but at least most of them hit their notes, which is always a step in the right direction. Stepping in the wrong direction, however, was the overall tone of last night's show: mellow, dull, adult-contemporary. Yes, while many of the individual performances were quite good, the sum was not greater than the pieces (did I just mix metaphors? I don't know. I'm still casting off Idol-induced cobwebs). Would it pain any of these guys to put something thought into their song choices? Obviously, they all took steps in the right direction, but now it's up to them to listen to their tunes and think to themselves "Could I hear this on the radio?" Maybe if they did that, we wouldn't be stuck with so many jazzy, toothless arrangements on our hands. Really, with the exception of Michael Lynche and Casey James, there wasn't an upbeat melody in the group. Alas.

I fear we're in for a long, long season of American Idol, folks. Not since the dreary days of Sanjaya has a batch of male singers seemed so lacking in talent, charisma, and overall quality. Last night's debut of the gents was filled with promise but left the judges, the viewers, and probably several network executives scratching their heads with disappointment. It was bad. And not like badass. I'm talking bad bad.

There was only one performance worth truly applauding, and the rest were just... awful. Okay, there were maybe two or three oooookay renditions, but in general, most of the guys couldn't control their nerves, couldn't hit the notes, or couldn't connect with the music. Not encouraging.

At long last, American Idol entered the performance phase of the competition last night, debuting a dozen women who all attempted to win us over with their vocal prowess. The degree to which they succeeded is a bit murky. Some of them proved to have very strong voices, others were more emotionally effecting. None were full-on amazing, and there doesn't seem to be anyone who possesses the raw power of, say, Melinda Doolittle or Lakisha Jones or -- my personal high watermark for booming black diva voices on Idol -- Mandisa. In fact, this batch of ladies seems less about pop or R&B, and more into the whole singer-songwriter thing. The change is refreshing, I suppose, and I'm not going to complain about being spared from hearing a dozen forgettable pop songs made even worse with uneven, warbly voices. However, I kiiiiiind of hate the whole singer-songwriter thing, and unless the guys inject some fun and excitement into the proceedings, we could have quite the boring roster of precious voices in front of us.

A full run-down, in no particular order, after the jump.

Apologies for taking a week off on the American Idol coverage last week. I fell woefully behind on my DVR and writing (I still haven't watched any of this season of 24 yet, but don't worry, I'm gonna chip away at it as soon as I'm done with this post; hopefully with a recap soon). Anyway, I can't remember much from last week anyway except that I thought Shania Twain was a great guest judge full of presence, warmth, and well-stated criticism. She was and continues to be my favorite stand-in so far -- certainly better than Posh Spice, who succeeded in sucking most of the life and energy out of Idol's season premiere. And certainly better than Avril Lavigne, who appeared on the first half of last night's show wearing a silly hoodie with devil horns. Get it? Because she was gonna be mean. Oh that Avril Lavigne. If anyone knows subtlety, it's her.

One thing that must be said about Lil' Avs, she certainly wasn't shy, which I laud. She certainly said her piece, never fearing to speak up and get right to the heart of the matter. Unfortunately, Avril also happened to be totally obnoxious, frequently channelling the mean girls that she so often skewers in her music. Watching her and Kara snicker to themselves whenever a disaster came on stage felt a bit cruel, even for Idol standards. Meanwhile, Kara needs to stop mouthing along to every damn audition. Yes, lady, we know you know the song. And yes, we know you want to sing it. But for crying out loud, you're the judge, not the applicant. CLOSE YOUR LIPS.

American Idol headed down to the ATL last night, home of Ryan Seacrest, Coca-Cola, and America's burgeoning Independence Party industry. While this trip down to Hotlanta lacked any weave-pulling brawls or bombastic helicopter entrances, I'm happy to report that it was just as entertaining as any given episode of last season's Real Housewives of Atlanta. That's probably thanks to the looney applicants who submitted themselves to the altar of Simon, Randy, Kara, and in this case, Mary J. Blige -- who capably filled in for Paula for this episode. I wouldn't say that MJB was as much a source of comic disdain as perhaps Posh Spice was the night before, nor would I say that she was particularly vocal, but at least she seemed like a legitimate musical authority, and it was downright hilarious watching her try to keep her composure through most of the auditions. Spoiler alert: she failed.

Well, it's official. American Idol is back, and everything over the next five months will more or less center around it. Sure, there'll be diversions, but it's the same thing every year: endless pontificating about singing and style and commercial viability, leading to gradually intensifying loyalties until lines are drawn in the sand with the blood and tears of a nation's vicarious dreams, all culminating with a grand finale with which at least half of America will be disappointed. There are good years, there are bad years, but the pattern remains unchanged.

For now, we begin where each season begins: in the humble audition room. Yes, American Idol revved up its search yet again in scenic Boston, home to some of the jankiest accents this side of Mayor Quimby. I must admit that the number of outrageous Masshole accents wasn't quite as high as I had expected, but then again, maybe that's because Fox decided to keep all the Southie kids off screen, lest the whole enterprise devolve into some sad musical reinterpretation of The Depaaahted. Don't you worry though. There were plenty of funny accents on display, and I'm not even talking about Victoria "Posh Spice" Beckham, the guest judge for this episode. Her haughty accent was the least of her concerns. This former pop-star, hailed as a fashion icon by Seacrest, waltzed into the judging room wearing some slapdash shmata on her head that looked like it had been fashioned out of old negligée. As bizarre as this headpiece was, it certainly did not distract from the tomato-red dress she was wearing, making it look as though Posh Spice herself had been dipped in a giant vat of Heinz Ketchup. Part of me wanted to find a giant french fry and dab her with it.

When Posh wasn't turning heads with her fashion sense, she was sitting quietly at the table, her head seemingly about to roll off her skeletal frame. The poor woman looked not unlike a rejected character concept from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and part of me feared she might suddenly raise her hands up exuberantly and announce that HALLOWEEN WAS FINALLY HERE!!!! If only she had displayed that sort of energy. Instead, Ms. Beckham sat there like a lump, occasionally offering some sweet advice or gentle chirps of approval on all things sartorial. Style is apparently her wheelhouse; although, I'm not sure I'd trust a woman dressed like a tube of marinara sauce.

Adam Lambert fans, listen up! The sequined American Idol runner-up has released his first song, dramatically called "A Time For Miracles" from the soundtrack to the upcoming disaster pic 2012. True to form, there's a neat little run of squealing and histrionics, but don't confuse me for a hater. Truth is I actually like the song. Then again, my musical taste is quite suspect; so really, my endorsement means nothing. Anyway, if you'd like to hear Glambert belt out this cinematic tune, check out the video above.

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Danny Noriega, late of American Idol, has released a music video that's pretty much as silly as you'd expect it to be. It's nowhere near is ridiculous as say the canon of Heidi Pratt (née Montag), but then again, that's not saying much. Here Danny teams up with a mysterious woman named Diamonique, who may or may not be Jenni from Flipping Out, and the two of them sing and rap through a surprisingly not terrible club tune. Personally, I think the beat and instrumentation are good, but the lyrics could use some tweaking (ie. throw them all out and start over — except for the anthemic line "Who's gonna buy my drinks? UH, YOU BITCH!"). Also, I'm not sure we need so many shots of Danny's hairy armpits, but that's just me.

What do you think about it?

Via D-Listed

I'm telling you now, this is the best, funniest, and most entertaining Adam Lambert interview you will ever read. No hyperbole. It's hilarious.

My friend Michelle at Best Week Ever had the luxury of cozying up next to the glam rocker, and the two got along like two peas in a pod (assuming one pea liked to scream to the heavens, and the other pea was Adam. RIMSHOT!). Anyway, there's nothing more I can really say about this interview except that I was laughing the whole time (and that I'm psyched for Michelle who I spoke to afterwards and who seemed as if she were floating on starlight and rainbows).

Check out the whole thing here.

The eighth season of American Idol wrapped up last night, and like last year's finale, the contest came down to a much-hyped, odds-on favorite and a quieter dark horse with surprising resiliency. But would the outcome be the same? Would The Chosen One go down in flames for a second year in a row? Well, you probably already know the answer to that question by now, but in case you're one of the five people out there who has yet to hear the news, I'll wait until after the jump to reveal all...

Well, we only have a few more hours left before American Idol ends its eight season and a new victor is crowned. Who will it be? The odds on favorite is Adam Lambert, the squealing costume factory who has earned almost unmitigated praise from the judges all season. However, sneaky Kris Allen could wind up pulling an upset, à la David Cook who persevered last year almost in response to all the unrelenting hype afforded to his rival, David Archuletta. On last night's final performance show, Simon Cowel & Co. were careful to keep their remarks opinionated but not over the top in any one direction — perhaps to save themselves the embarrassment of calling the show for one contestant and having the other win (as is what happened last year). Still, reading between the lines, it's clear that the group was pulling for Lambert. The judges festooned him with words like "superstar" and "one of the best we've ever had." Kris Allen, on the other hand, received some high praise, but it all sounded very conciliatory — as if he'd already gone as far as he could go. Might the judges be right? Possibly. It'll be hard to stop the Lambert Express. But then there are all these theories that that Gokey votes might shift to Kris and, well, who knows what might happen. All we can base anything on is the singing, and of course I have many comments about that.

Photo courtesy of Rickey.org

I should have more faith in America. After David Cook pulled the surprise — and deserved — upset over David Archuletta on last year's American Idol finale, I should have realized that often America doesn't blindly follow the misguided praise of the judges. If I had remembered that, I wouldn't have been so delightfully surprised last night when Danny Gokey finally got the boot, thus sparing us one week (or at least one night) from hearing his forceful growl. I don't think he expected to be going home in the least. In fact, I think he thought he was gonna win it all. He probably thought he'd pull a surprise upset over Adam Lambert — David Cook style. But thankfully, things just didn't turn out that way.

There can only be one explanation for the unmitigated praise that the American Idol judges bestowed on Adam and Danny last night: crack. Well, I suppose there's a second explanation: the music must just sound different live. Danny and Adam, who admittedly have very powerful voices, must translate stupendously well in person because on TV, I just didn't get all the adoration spewed their way. Similarly, I didn't necessarily understand the lack of enthusiasm directed at Kris Allen (at least his first song). There's some sort of topsy-turvy thing going on that makes crappy music sound good to them and vice versa. Whatever it is, I'm here to pipe in and say that no, Danny and Adam were not God's gifts to music Tuesday night. In fact, they were rather ordinary. THERE. I said it.

So Danny Gokey went back to Milwaukee this weekend, and a funny thing happened at his hometown concert: his lyrics blew away in the wind. Yes, just as he was starting up a rendition of the classic Michael Jackson tune "Billie Jean," his crib sheet flittered off in the wind, perhaps the result of not-so-divine intervention for the church group singer. As a result, Gokey spent most of the song shouting out guttural harmonies with the backup singers — or simply doing nothing at all. It was totally embarrassing — not because everyone knows the "Billie Jean" lyrics but because as a singer, he should have memorized them. Maybe this was perhaps a sign from God. A heavenly message to us all: like lyrics in the wind, Gokey must go.

Video of the debacle above...

(Via Towleroad, courtesy of jash)

Going into tonight's results show of American Idol, prognosticators across the Internet were picking Kris Allen to be the unlucky sap to go home this week. If not him, then Allison Iraheta's number would be up. But what about Danny Gokey? He sounded like a blimp losing air for most of his performance, and while I might not know exactly what that sounds like, I can approximate it, and Danny perfectly matched said approximation. Yes, Danny was an epic fail last night, and across the Internet, people were ridiculing him to pieces. Would we be in store for a major upset? Could it be that Danny — after having avoided the bottom three all season — might at last go home???

So it was rock week on American Idol last night, and I for one was excited. After having suffered through the dreary doldrums of the Rat Pack genre (not to mention Jamie Foxx's curious ramblings), I was ready for some energetic, ballad-free music. And guess what? Overall, that's pretty much what we got. Last night's show was chock full of excitement and pressing cliffhangers: would the American Idol song fall from the rafters and squash Ryan Seacrest? Would Adam Lambert's skin-tight pants burst open after one too many hip gyrations? And would the glass in Danny Gokey's spectacles crumble into millions of pieces — perhaps even revert back into sand — after his dreadful and embarrassing caterwaul? These questions and more flittered through our heads as we witnessed one of the strongest final fours in quite some time. By the end of the episode, we really only had one major thing on our mind: who's gonna go home?

I didn't get around to recapping this week's American Idol results show (spoiler alert: Matt G. went home; also, Jamie Foxx continued to be insufferable), but as an apology, I offer you this neat Where Are They Now? segment, courtesy of the TV Guide Channel. A pleasant diversion from the fray, but the real reason to watch this is to see that AWFUL Josiah Lemmings (the crying kid who lived in his car VOLUNTARILY and never made it past the Hollywood rounds). Not only has his fake British accent grown more pronounced, but he's now adopted hipster body tics that really help drive his AWFULNESS home. Well done!

Via Reality Chat, which you can follow on Twitter. Oh, and be sure to follow ME on Twitter too!

Watch Young Kara DioGuardi Sings at Family Gathering in Family  |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

Check it out: before Kara DioGuardi was a buxom, successful songwriter, mathematician, and judge on American Idol, she was an awkward tween with goofy braces and a penchant for Sinatra. Don't believe me? Watch the clip above to see her singing in some old home movie from 1982...

American Idol is heading into the final stretch, and more so than ever, the producers are trying to position its contestants as the next biggest star on American radio; so what better way to put your finger on the pulse of today's youth than by having our wannabees croon to the music of... The Rat Pack? Seriously? I mean, why not have an Eartha Kitt night? Or the Best of Lawrence Welk? Heck, let's get some Edith Piaf up in this bitch. Point is the night's theme was anything but youthful, which is disappointing when there are so many great options from the '80s, '90s, and today (apologies for sounding like a radio station, but it IS the truth).

Even more bizarre, this week's mentor was Jamie Foxx. Yes, that Jamie Foxx. God forbid the producers select someone appropriate like, I don't know, JERRY LEWIS. I suppose picking a member of the Rat Pack (or at least someone adjacent to it) would force the producers to realize just how old fashioned this week's theme is. Nevertheless, we had Jamie Foxx, who proved to be just as insufferable as you'd imagine him to be. To be fair, he did not do his Ray Charles impersonation, but I'm sure he was absolutely dying when he heard Matt Giraud at the piano singing "Georgia On My Mind." For that alone Matt should stay (but for his singing, maybe he should go). Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. The point is that Jamie Foxx brought the crazy. Whether he was getting up in Danny Gokey's "grill" or whether he was nodding his head to music with a healthy dose of self-awareness, he was simply bizarre (not to mention annoying). His crowning moment came, however, when he applauded Adam for being unfazed by his presence. That's some solid, grade-A narcissism right there!

GIVE THE KID A HANKY (pic courtesy of Rickey.org)

I was kind of dreading last night's episode of American Idol. The theme was "Disco Week," and this did not portend well for this group of thrushes and troubadours. You see, the major pitfall of the genre is that unless pulled off properly, disco performances will invariably sound cheesy and outmoded — thus attracting criticisms of "karaoke" at best and "hotel lounge singer" at worst. (And let's not overlook the dreaded "amusement park" label.) Surprisingly, I thought the kids did a pretty good job. Let's start with the worst...

"BlllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhH!!!!"

Ack! The American Idol results show will be airing on the East Coast in just a few hours, and I haven't been able to even complain about last night yet! Well, let's get started!

First, the judging format: dumb. As Andy Dehnart vehemently observed, even with one less contestant, half as much judging, and one extra minute on the telecast, the stupid show still went late. Don't penalize the singers or the viewers by muting the judges. We love them. It's called a stage manager. As in, GET ONE. Someone should be cutting off the judges and keeping the show moving along, and if it's not gonna be a stage manager, it should be Seacrest. Or how about this: no more dumb interviews on those very uncomfortable looking stools. Better yet, get rid of the cold open (a.k.a. the bit before the credits roll). And here's one more: don't waste time with the long intro for the judges. Wait, wait, one more — stop with the super long video packages introducing the mentor of the week. We don't need a Ken Burns documentary. Seacrest can give us a two line synopsis, and that'll be fine. At this point, the mentors should be big enough for us all to know who they are anyway, and if you want more background info, put it in the results show. Seriously Fox, get it together.

Today, I could sit back and recap last night's American Idol — you know, discuss how awesome Allison was, continue to feel disappointed with Lil, deride Danny Gokey's trainwreck of an arrangement, welcome Matt Giraud's return to form, bash Scott MacIntyre's worst performance to date (time to go home), gently applaud Anoop for a tender moment, cringe ever so slightly at the not totally awesome Kris Allen song, or respectfully appreciate Adam Lambert's take on Tears for Fears (even though it wasn't as wonderful as Simon made it out to be; although, I also realize that in person, it may have been totally riveting). Yes, I could do all that, but I thought of something better. You see, I'm at my parents' house, and the Tivo is in their bedroom, which meant that I had to submit them to the torture (in their eyes, not mine) of American Idol. Needless to say, they had many choice quotes about the proceedings, and I decided it would be better to relay those as they were funnier than anything I could have written.

The gig is up for one more underwhelming performer on American Idol, and I don't think I'm spoiling anything by saying that the person going home was not Scott. Clearly you already knew that because had the blind one been ejected from the competition, surely banners would be flying and parades marching all through the metaphorical Times Square of this blog.

But alas, it was not so. I did, however, take solace in knowing that the person who did go home most certainly deserved it. I'm talking, of course, about (SPOILER ALERT!!) the one and only Megan Joy. Just as I had predicted back in the Wild Card round, the competition became too much for her. She simply couldn't keep up, and while I appreciated the variety she brought to the show (both in terms of voice and vagina), it was evident early on that she wouldn't be able to bring much to the table, and appropriately enough, she struggled week after week with poor song choices. It's kind of a shame that she got to stick around whereas the likes of Alexis Grace didn't even make it to the national tour. Oh well. It's even more of a shame that a wild card spot was squandered on her rather than, say, Tatiana del Toro, who — despite the beautiful drama she brought — could actually sing. Coulda, shoulda, woulda.

Pic courtesy of Rickey.org

There was so much potential for greatness on last night's American Idol, but alas, the singers kind of stumbled with their wide-open theme of "Top Downloadable Songs" (a.k.a. sing whatever you damn well want). Whereas last week the kids struggled to make Motown sounds contemporary, this time around, they seemed unable to make contemporary songs sound fresh. It wasn't all bad news though. We did get some mighty fine performances, starting (perhaps regrettably) with Danny Gokey who belted out a very emotional take on Rascall Flatts. My feelings on Danny are fairly well documented: I generally don't like him, but he is capable of impressing me from time to time. Last night was one of those times. I liked that his arrangement wasn't overly country-ish nor was it cheesy dance techno (like the version that plays at my gym). But most of all, he really connected with the music (cough, dead wife, cough), and that really elevated his performance, which admittedly was not perfect. There were several bad notes and plenty of strain, but it didn't really matter too much because the overall performance was so strong. Major, major deduction, however, for the awful t-shirt. What in the hell was he thinking?

PHHHEWW! We almost had a second major tragedy on our hands with last night's American Idol results show. Poor Matt Giraud found himself not in the bottom three, but in the bottom two, despite having one of the best performances of the night. I don't know what the hell happened, but I'll blame it on his opener position on Tuesday's show — maybe people simply forgot about him? Either way, he most certainly did NOT belong in or anywhere near the bottom two, three, or five really, and I was shocked he was so close to elimination.

Cold Hearted Whiskers.

Motown Week: that most hallowed of occasions on American Idol. It's supposed to bring watershed moments with its wide variety of classic tunes, but invariably this theme never fails to produce the most karaoke-ish collection of performances year after year. I actually groan when I find out the singers will be doing Motown. It's not because I don't like Motown. It's because so few of the singers can ever find a way to make the songs sound current. We know it's possible — Motown music is consistently resurfacing in new, modern ways on the radio. The problem is — as Kara DioGuardi suggested — there's not a lot of artistry with American Idol kids, and when dealing with songs from fifty years ago, that can be a problem.

The good news is that while we did get a bunch of glorified "hotel bar" performances, we did have a few noteworthy standouts — and no, I'm not talking about Paula's frilly, ballerina dress (Paula, it should be noted, was on a slight crazy roll — culminating in some comment she made about the crazy stuff she has on under her dress. Family show, people. Family show). Anyway, a full rundown of the singers after the jump...

"Bobbbby, do you see me and Aaaalllliee behind Ryyyyyan???"

Guess who was in the American Idol audience tonight? If you answered "Olivia Newton John and her strange daughter," you'd be correct. But who cares about them? I'm more interested in Real Housewives of New York City's Jill Zarin and her daughter Allie, who appeared quietly behind Ryan Seacrest midway through the show. I'm a little shocked Jill didn't raise a sign for Zaaaaaarin Faaaaabrics. Then again, I'm also a little shocked she didn't bark, "There's Ryan Seacrest. ALLIE! CAMERA!!! NOW!!!!" Nevertheless, always fun getting a little bonus Zarin time in.

Idol recap tomorrow...

I'm slowly entering the "astounded" phase of American Idol. I think we all know it — that incredulous four or five week span in which some blatantly outclassed singer somehow advances farther and farther in the singing competition as more talented folks drop by the wayside. Sanjaya remains the poster boy of such ridiculousness, but he's not the only craptastic crooner to defy the odds. Let's not forget Kristy Lee Cook, Haley Scarnato, or pretty much half of the season three cast. This time around, we've got Scott MacIntyre, a soft-rock piano man who has yet to hit two consecutive notes. However, there doesn't seem to be much by way of outrage about Scott's quiet ascension through the ranks. Not even Vote For The Worst is endorsing him (which I suppose is a good thing, if you think about it). Instead, that site has anointed Megan Joy (née Corkrey) the queen of crappy, which doesn't really make sense to me. Yeah, she's quirky, but she is far from the worst. Has that site jumped the shark? Nevertheless, the point is that Scott is awful, and the fact that he made it through last night has me concerned he might be around for quite a while. He clearly has the sympathy vote — even Simon gets all PC around him — but Scott has more than just that going for him. His music appeals to a powerful voting block in the Idol universe: older women who enjoy inspirational ballads (and by extension, figurines at the Hallmark store too. In other words: awfulness). It's gonna be hard taking this bad boy down.

I must say that for the second week in a row, American Idol has delivered the goods on stage. There were some performances that were a bit bland, but nothing out and out awful. I'm starting to think the show has recaptured some of the mojo it had lost over the past two seasons. Thank goodness. And who would have thought this string of solid performances would come as a result of country night, which in the past may as well have been renamed "Make Awful Noises and Call It Singing" Night. Yes, the kids rose to the challenge, and some of our struggling favorites (ie. Anoop) finally got their act together and lived up to their potential. Let's just hope America votes wisely tonight...

And now the shocking twist to this season of American Idol: judges will be able to save an ousted contestant anytime between now and the final five. But wait! There's a twist on the twist. Judges can only exercise this mercy once! Dunh dunh dunhhhh!!! Who will they use it on? Well, certainly not Jasmine Murray or Jorge Núñez, the cast's resident "J" singers who unceremoniously were sent packing on last night's results show.

Neither elimination was terribly surprising. Jasmine wasn't that bad on Tuesday night, but her performance suffered from being unmemorable (I couldn't even remember the song when I was writing the recap). She completely disregarded the judges advice for the third time in a row, opting to be old fashioned instead of living up to her mini-Brandy / Rihanna / urban pop R&B potential. Oh well. You can only get so many chances.

Meanwhile, Jorge, who appeared to be dressed like a waiter, was slain by a dreary, adult-contemporary performance and received no reprieve from the judges. When asked if the judges would be saving the emotive skeleton (as Gawker calls him), Simon responded with a succinct and beautiful "No". Awesome. I thought the kid would burst into tears, but somehow he kept it together — perhaps wrapping his emotions in a tight metaphorical scarf around his head. Okay, that made no sense. I just wanted to make fun of his scarf one more time.

"We Run LA" by Ya Boy Ft. Dr. Hollywood.

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I'm just putting this out there: I thought last night's Top Thirteen on American Idol was one of the strongest "opening nights" the show has ever had. All in all, there were no colossal failures. Some people may not have been super strong, but even the weak ones sounded decent. For once, I could actually appreciate the new selection process as it did seem to weed out all the nervous nellies, leaving us with a pool of contestants who more or less commanded the stage very well. I honestly don't know who's going home tonight because those who floundered (Anoop, Jorge, Scott) seem to have a strong fan base. Plus, Ryan teased new rules for us (which we'll learn about tonight); so who the hell knows what's going on.

Via D-Listed

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Well, the gig is finally up for Tatiana Del Toro, who certainly brought the crazy for a spectacular flameout on American Idol last night. It was the Wild Card round, in case you hadn't heard, and Tatiana pulled out all the stops — she did her crazy laugh, she squealed with emotion, and she even busted out a brand new Puerto Rican accent à la Jorge to perhaps muster some sympathy or tears from Paula, who notably cried the other night during Mr. Nuñez's emotional moment. Unfortunately for Tatiana, Paula immediately called her out for the new accent, but hey, no problem. Tatiana just blatantly stole Jorge's bit, saying when she gets excited, she too can only think in Spanish. Riiiiight. Hey, I didn't mind. I thought it was hilarious. This girl is desperate for fame, and she'll do anything for it (even give Ryan a fake BJ). Normally I'd find it kind of repulsive, but with Tatiana it's just sort of massively hilarious.

Alas, her fatal flaw was singing "Saving All My Love" by Whitney Houston yet again. This was now the second or third time she'd performed the song (or at least covered Whitney), and unsurprisingly, this lack of variety did not wear well with the judges. To her credit, I actually thought she sounded better than the first time. In fact, I thought she sounded really, really good. If she had chosen a different song, she might have very well have moved forward, but sadly she claimed that one day was simply not enough time to learn a whole new song — or at least one that was as good as the Whitney classic. This elicited doubt and anger from Simon, and it was clear that her unbelievable streak of second and third and fourth chances was going to come to an end. Sure enough, the judges gave her the big "Smell ya later!", causing her to break down in tears and then eventually fall to her knees before the judges as if they were some panel of ancient deities. It was one of the most bizarre Idol moments ever, and for that, we'll never forget you Tatiana. Never...

I can't say that I was terribly surprised by last night's results show of American Idol. We all knew Lil Rounds would sail on through to the next round, and after the rapturous (and undeserved) reception Scott received, he was a sure lock too. I'm still peeved about this — just because the guy is blind doesn't mean he should get a free pass. Anyone who heard Scott's reprisal of "Mandolin Rain" last night would never believe he was heading to the top twelve. It sounded, to put it lightly, janky. I know, I know — the singers don't try so hard on the results show, but seriously, it was baaaaad.

Nevertheless, after Lil and Scott, the only question mark was the third spot — would it be Felicia? Jorge? Ju'Not? Maybe Kristen? Odds were on Jorge, especially after he all but wept on stage and gushed in Spanish. Sure enough, America chose him to go to the finals, and he again burst at the seams with unbridled emotion. It was annoying. I'm still not quite sure why when Jorge bawls, it's considered endearing, but when Tatiana sheds her tears, people write her off. I guess maybe Jorge has more sincerity, but Tatiana has more comic potential, people! Just take a look at last night's show when she was picked (YES!) for the Wild Card round. The girl could barely speak. At one point I thought she was going to fall to the floor. It was fantastic. We must send her through. We must!

Well, the final twelve semifinalists finally took the stage of American Idol last night, and the results were — like every week — mixed. Pretty much all the guys were okay at best (mostly forgettable though), but the girls were fairly strong. In fact, I'd be hard pressed to say who will actually move forward tonight. A near shoo-in would have to be show closer Lil Rounds, who we quickly learned had a few lil' rounds of her own in the posterior region. Thanks to a sweeping camera that caught all the angles of all the singers, we discovered quite the bootay on Lil. I'm sure all the butt-men in the audience were quite thrilled (I'm looking at you, Reggie Bush — wherever you are). The good news for Lil was that she could sing, and sing she did. She belted out a Mary J. Blige song expertly in her little bumblebee dress, and the judges absolutely adored her. I believe Simon used the word "Brilliant." I wish I could provide more insight, but alas, amongst my friends Jash and Sly, there was too much snickering going on regarding the aforementioned badunkadunk. Oops.

I was so excited for American Idol last night, and the results were... eh. I can't say I was particularly blown away by anyone, and I can't say that anyone bombed in a spectacularly memorable fashion. Everyone was just sort of bland and forgettable. That being said, there's still plenty to talk about, starting with the best singer of the evening, Allison Iraheta. I was completely surprised by this wee sixteen year old, especially after her pre-song interview with Ryan proved to be so awkward and painful that I naturally assumed all hope was lost for this nervous, red-headed lhasa apsa. However, butterflies be damned. Allison got up there and sung the hell out of "Alone" by Heart. She hit a few flat notes here and there, but her passion and connection to the song — not to mention her command of the stage — completely made up for it. I was really shocked. I had this girl pegged as "One To Hate," but she proved me wrong. Hopefully she'll be moving on.

Of course, just because you have command of the stage doesn't mean you're awesome. Take, for instance, Adam Lambert...

What happens when you're a cast member of Wicked trying to be a real rock 'n' roller? You get Adam Lambert, one of American Idol's aspiring stars for season eight. The guyliner enthusiast has already achieved frontrunner status due to his soaring vocals (he performs in next week's semifinals group), but he's also attracted some mild notoriety from people like me who feel he's a bit too theatrical, fabricated, and deliberately groomed to be taken seriously. Case in point: the video above. Check out Lambert as he dons an unsettlingly oil-chested, glam rocker persona — a look that can best be described as Michael Flatley meets Bowie. I'm not sure that's a good thing. It's all so over the top and ridiculous — it's every thing that Nick/Normund parodies. Adam can sing for sure, but I defy you to understand any of the words in this shrill, four-and-a-half minute what-the-fuck odyssey. Performance art? Possibly. Mock-worthy? Absolutely.

Via Vote For The Worst

UPDATE: Another curious Adam Lambert clip after the jump...

America, you've got to be kidding me. Did you really fall for all the sentimental crap the producers shoveled out about personality-free performer Michael Sarver? Apparently you did because the sympathetic yet bland roughneck earned a place in the American Idol top twelve last night, baffling thousands of people who surely expected that spot to go to Anoop Desai, Ricky Braddy, or at least Tatiana del Toro. In Ricky, we would have had a better vocalist. In Anoop, we would have had a better personality. And in Tatiana, we would have had a better crazy. C'mon now. This is just ludicrous.

After seeing Tatiana's fluttering heart nearly send her fainting to the floor, I think we can all agree she's a precious gift from the reality gods that needs to be savored, nourished, and encouraged. Why would we ever send her away so soon? Did you not see her emotional hysterics in the background? She is the unqualified star of this early season! Don't vanquish her! I'm holding out for the Wild Card round, but honestly, I'm just not sure that'll be good enough. Who knows what talent the next two weeks will bring. Only three wild cards can go on to the big twelve, and I fear the odds are stacked against Tatiana (not to mention Ricky and Anoop). Oooooh, I just hate when a nonentity like Michael Sarver excels. Simon said people should vote for him because he seemed like a nice guy who needed a break. Guess what — they all need a break. Damn you people for being so pliable!

At long last, American Idol moved into its semifinals stage, and the results were decidedly mixed. Things started off promisingly at first with one increasingly strong showing after the next, but then the performances went south very, very quickly. Not helping matters was a glitch-laden broadcast that featured so many miscues on the technical end, it sometimes felt we were watching public access. Ryan, who came to us dressed in a saggy, Mr. Rogers sweater, did his best to keep this raggedy production together, but even he seemed caught off guard by such improbable accidents as the Stevie Wright video package playing instead of the one for Brent Keith. Of course, Ryan was left speechless a fair number of times, especially when Ann Marie Boskovich mentioned sitting on "the hard part" of the couch. Silly giggling by Ryan ensued, which was unfortunate because no one else in the studio seemed to be on his wavelength (don't worry, Ry-Ry. My dirty mind was right with you).

As for the judges, Kara fit in quite nicely on her first live show, often offering pointed criticism and some occasional fiery passion (see Danny Gokey). Paula, meanwhile, continued her coherent streak with several well-stated and articulate comments. Don't worry though. She still had some loopy moments, such as her muddled proclamation of "Two words. With a hyphen. Sold-out arenas." But hey, at least she didn't threaten to decapitate anyone and hang their cranium from her rearview mirror. Baby steps...

As I sat down at the TV tonight, I wondered how Fox would be able to cram thirty-six acceptances into one hour of American Idol. Turns out they couldn't, which is why I've now found myself coming off of two full hours of wannabes laughing, crying, hugging, and occasionally singing. Yes, it was a bit much, but still thoroughly entertaining. Unlike previous "Final Cut" shows in the series's history, this one actually had some relevance. We didn't just watch one person after another get through. We revisited many of their stories, and for those who the judges were still a bit iffy about, we got to hear them sing one last time "for their life" (a bit dramatic, if you ask me) against a fellow competitor. In general, we pretty much could tell how these singing showdowns would play out — the one who previously had more screen time would almost always win out. However, there were exceptions. Despite having been featured a bit more than whoever it was she beat, Frankie Jordan still got sent home, but not before Simon reassured her that she wouldn't have won anyway. It was his backhanded way of alleviating any regret she may have felt. Normally, I'd say it was a fairly rude comment, but hey, it's Simon. And it was true.

Seriously, how did American Idol get to be so good all of a sudden? Thanks to some nifty editing and tricky maneuvers, Fox kept us on our toes last night as we tried to predict just who would be moving on to the next round and who would be going home. As per the tradition at this point in the season, the contestants were separated into four different rooms, with each batch being told their fate en masse. Things started off predictably enough as the first holding area filled up quickly with definite shoo-ins such as Lil Rounds, Anoop, and Adam with the bad hair. Let's talk about him for a second, shall we? As I've previously mentioned, I have what may seem like an irrational dislike for him based on his terrible hair (and now guyliner). Some people may think this is a superficial criticism, and yet I can't help feeling that this hair issue cuts right to the problem. You see, Adam is trying to be a rocker of some sort. An artist, if you will. And as such, he's adopted this idiotic mop top and CoverGirl visage in an effort to play the part. He's not as effortlessly genuine as say the dueling piano player or those two best friends (one of which was on heavy duty pit stain alert last night). As such, it's hard for me to embrace Adam because he just seems like a massive poseur.

Now, normally I'd grant that Adam has a very good voice, but for the record, he did not sound so spectacular last night as he attempted to convince the judges that he was not, as they had accused him, too theatrical. And what did he sing to dissuade them? "Believe" by CHER. Yeah, not the wisest move. Adam then went on to perform a super theatrical "re-imagination" of the tune, which wasn't the worst ever — and he certainly deserved to go through to the next round — but damn, was it frilly. He's gonna have me banging my head against the wall by the end of the season.

I have to admit that it's taken some time for me to find my favorite "characters" on this season of American Idol. The auditions, while amusing, failed to really wow me over with no major big voices truly standing out amongst the fray. Thankfully, Fox limited those rounds to a scant three weeks (instead of the usual month of multiple two-hour episodes that make you want to shoot yourself by the end of the process). Now we've moved on to Hollywood Week, one of the most under-appreciated and vital phases of the show. American Idol producers have unwisely fumbled this essential, character-building for the previous two iterations, starting with notorious season six (ie. the Sanjaya season) when Hollywood Week was crammed into basically one or two accelerated episodes. Gone was the drama of Group Night (which had yielded so much fun the year prior — remember those awful twins?), and as a result, we were left with a bunch of kids on stage that no one really knew. The ratings fell, the season was considered a failure, and the show has been slightly reeling ever since.

Last year, the producers returned some luster to Hollywood Week, but again, there wasn't a whole lot of drama. I'm not even sure Group Night even existed. Either way, we were once again left with a bunch of singers whose biggest negative quality was their lack of personality. This year, however, the producers have returned an emphasis on Hollywood Week by allowing it to unfold over two weeks of programming. Plus, they're wisely following several standout singers that we recognize from the auditions. True, they do this every year, but this time, it feels like we're seeing more (unlike season six when several promising auditioners completely disappeared into thin air). The result? Pretty good! Not only are we getting to know the singers better, but by the end of Group Night, I had already developed some favorites (not to mention some that I most certainly hate), and that's what reality TV is all about, right? Rooting for those you love and cursing and ridiculing those you despise.

Oh please let this be a good season...

Things are looking ever so slightly bleak for American Idol this season. We've visited eight cities, and while the emphasis this season has been on the positive (ie. the good singers), we've yet to really find a breakout star. For a show whose caché has taken a downward tick since the rise of Sanjaya, this can't be a good thing. We've had two back-to-back subpar seasons, and I'm afraid with the current crop of kids that we'll never get back to the double apex that was season four and five.

Of course, there could be a breakout star in the mix, but we just don't know it yet. Fox aired only a handful of winning auditions in New York City, and when we found out that twenty-six people had gone through to Hollywood, I felt a bit annoyed that such a bountiful group had been lumped into a shared hour with Puerto Rico (which only yielded nine). Nevertheless, there's still plenty of hope for this burgeoning season. Hollywood week is going to be a longer process, which is a major step in the right direction. This is a vital time for contestants to develop personalities, and when the producers all but excised this essential phase in season six, well, you saw the results (boring). Hopefully we'll get something a bit more exciting than a window shade falling over (a ridiculous non-event that Fox teased for literally weeks).

In the meantime, let's take a look back at the auditioners of this week (at least the ones Fox has posted on their horrendous website)...

At one hour, American Idol returned to its normal length last night, which made it so much more tolerable than last week. The auditions moved to San Francisco where we didn't really find any knockouts, but instead some very solid contenders. More importantly, however, was that Kara and Simon began bickering, and unlike Paula, Kara was not afraid to put her foot down (not that it'll help). Her declaration of "I've got something to say, and I'm gonna say it RIGHT NOW" was joyously pointed, and I once again cheered on the addition of our spunky new judge.

My thoughts on some of the auditioners after the jump...

"Laaaaaa!!!"

American Idol returned to the airwaves this week, and it was pretty much just what you'd expect: good singers, bad singers, and awkward Seacrest moments. New to the proceedings was the addition of permanent judge Kara DioGuardi, who fit right in just perfectly, if you ask me. I love that she's testy and opinionated, but even better, she seems to have an angry bitch side to her, which is most welcomed. We caught a glimpse of it when Bikini Girl told her off, but I have a feeling there'll be more to come.

Meanwhile, as for the auditioners, there hasn't been anyone who's truly blown me away. The singers we've seen have been more or less ho-hum, with some being better than others. The trainwrecks, meanwhile, have been extremely tedious these year. Normally, there are some disasters that are simply riveting. This time around, however, the bad singers have been simply bad. No entertainment value. I've been finding myself antsy to move on to the next person. Fox would do well to employ some healthy editing.

Anyway, my thoughts on some of the singers after the jump...

Let's take a trip back in time. On May 21, 2008 — six months ago to the day — David Cook pulled an upset win over David Archuleta on American Idol and simultaneously broke the hearts of adolescent girls nationwide. Many of us were lucky to be far, far away from any roving tweens, and as such, we were spared the ear-piercing sounds of their lamentations. Now, through the magic of the YouTubes, we can see their pain, and it is wonderful. Please enjoy (and forgive the shrill sounds this video emits at the very end).

Via Best Week Ever

When I read that Sanjaya would be poking fun of himself in a new Nationwide commercial, I felt optimistic that the affable yet untalented kid might finally enter some sort of post-annoying phase where we could enjoy him as a kind of neo-kitsch character, not unlike William Shatner or James Lipton. However, after checking out the spot, I found myself recoiling much as I did throughout all of Sanjaya's 2007 run on American Idol. Some things never change...

For those of you who love the kid though, check out some behind the scenes footage after the jump.

David Archuleta has a new single out called "Crush," and yesterday, he dropped by New York's Z100 morning show to premiere it. First thoughts: not as bland as I thought it would be. In fact, it's solidly nice. Is it great? No. It's still kind of generic, and if anything, it sounds like some sort of rejected JoJo tune (perhaps a less catchy cousin of "Too Little, Too Late"). But it's seriously much better than I thought it would be — and this is coming from me, a self-professed Archuleta hater. Way to go, Archie! Now get back into your cage before Daddy beats you again.

• David Archuleta’s First Single Premieres! Is David Cook’s Album in Trouble? [Vulture]

Feeling desperate? Suffer from blindness? Deafness? Lacking any senses in particular? Well, if you have a few extra bucks, this might be just what you need to spice up your life: a date with American Idol's Constantine Maroulis, the living incarnation of baklava (and just as sticky!). It's an opportunity too wonderful/smarmy to pass up! Just imagine yourself at dinner, staring into those beady little eyes of his, two dreamy bags puffing out underneath like magnificent pillows of gorgeousness. He runs his hand through his greasy, unwashed hair and then caresses your face, leaving an oily smear of grandeur along your cheek. While you reach for your napkin, you notice his shirt is unbuttoned to the navel, revealing a hirsute series of flab rolls piled atop each other like a werewolf version of the Michelin Man. It's damn near impossible to look away from this hairy ode to jiggles, but then there's that smile. That beautiful, mousy smile. Who needs an upper lip when you've got a chin that resembles a perfectly sculpted anus? He has the total package.

And all you have to do is pay over $2,000 for the experience. Yes, this dream date is being auctioned off as part of the charity fundraiser (emphasis on charity), Rock Against Diabetes. The winner will get to accompany Constantine to the event, which will be hosted by -- you guessed it -- Dick Donato (a.k.a. Evel Dick of Big Brother 8). Constantine and Dick on the same date? And you out $2,000? Sounds like the best night ever!

If for some reason this sounds appetizing to you, then a) you may be suffering from a brain tumor, and b) feel free to get more information here. My suggestion: donate to the cause, forgo the douchebag has-beens.

• Date with Constantine Maroulis currently being auctioned for $2,000 [Reality Blurred]

Last night, I complained that the fix was in for David Archuleta to win American Idol, but how wrong I was. In an instant (precisely one instant after my Tivo cut off, grrr), this entire season was redeemed when relative underdog David Cook swooped in and took the victory. I let out a celebratory "YES!" and for the first time in several seasons, I was pleased with the Idol coronation.

All season long, I resisted jumping on the Cook bandwagon. I lamented his unfortunate hair stylings (still do), cited a lack of authenticity, and generally mocked his emo trappings. But ultimately, in the finale, he won me over, and heck, better late than never. On Tuesday night, he stepped up and made his claim to the stage, and clearly, America responded.

Photo via rickey.org

I don't know why, but for some reason the people behind American Idol want David Archuleta to win. Maybe they're hoping his presence will boost ticket sales for the summer tour. Maybe they're trying to gain a larger share of the adult contemporary market. Or maybe they're just plain loco. But the simple truth remains that lil' Davey, while technically a great vocalist, is certainly no star.

And yet on tonight's final performance show, the judges gave him near unanimous praise. Huh? Were they hearing the same sounds? Maybe the acoustics in the new Nokia Theater venue screwed with their ears because as far as I could tell from my cozy seat in the Hollywood Hills, David Archuleta was a veritable snooze-fest. Whereas David Cook seemed to command the stage unlike ever before, David Archuleta seemed to get swallowed up in it. As you can imagine, I was astounded when Simon said all three rounds went to the boy wonder. Let the headscratching commence.

Sent from a secret operative just seconds ago...

Well, the last chance we had at any real drama for this season of American Idol went out the window Wednesday night when Syesha was unceremoniously bumped from the Final Two. I'm sure no one was more surprised than she. After all, with that nagging sense of entitlement she's had all season, she probably thought she'd actually wrapped this thing up back in week one. I'm shocked she didn't tell Ryan last night, "YOU MEAN THERE'S ANOTHER WEEK? I THOUGHT I ALREADY WON! You're silly, Ryan."

Alas, Syesha now must enter her post-Idol life as a coulda-been contender, but even if we never hear from her again, we'll always know that she is — and always will be — a STAR!

Pictures of her trip home after the jump...

Raise your hand if you were a little underwhelmed by last night's penultimate performance show of American Idol. Yeah, me too. If anything, this final trio of singers underscored what we've feared for some weeks now: this season's crop, while overall more talented than last year's bunch, has absolutely no personality whatsoever. Syesha has tried her darndest to inject some life into the proceedings, and I'm sure if you ask her, she'd be shocked to learn she's anything less than magnetic, but no matter how many times she tells herself in the mirror "I'm a STAR!" even she can't spice up this increasingly bland go-around.

Maybe Fox has given up on these kids. That would explain why the producers didn't even bother showing more than three or four seconds of each Idol's homecoming (either that or they're saving the bits for tonight's results show). From what we could tell, David Archuleta had a swell time meeting the Salt Lake City mayor and carnie-esque mustache (seriously? You're an elected official? Are you trying to make SLC look even crazier?). David Cook meanwhile spent his time hangin' with the anchors of his local Fox affiliate. Amusingly, during their broadcast he got a text from Simon regarding the song he'd be singing. I personally loved how after Cook announced it, the female anchor just sat back and said, "REALLY." For a moment I thought she'd cross her arms and snap, "We'll see about THAT, Cowell." Of course, had it been Sue Simmons, she'd probably just have grabbed David's cell phone, thrown it off the stage, and yelled "What the FUCK are you doing?"

Then there was poor Syesha, who, as far as we could tell, spent all her time trapped in a limo. That's where she was when Randy's song selection came through. That's right: David Archuleta was at a pep rally in front of thousands of people, David Cook was broadcasting to millions, and Syesha... was alone in a dark car. Perhaps the producers were sending her a message.

Of course, while last night's episode may have been on the forgettable side, it still might have all been worth it to watch David Archuleta try (and fail) to harness Chris Brown's urban soul with the vanilla-tastic rendition of "With You." That's what Idol is all about: amazing flame-outs. Too bad it won't eject him from the comp...

"ARRGH!!! All my unrealized dreams will continue through you, my son! THROUGH YOU!!!!"

It's official: Jeff Archuleta (a.k.a. the crazy psycho stage dad of overly earnest American Idol contestant David Archuleta) has been banned from rehearsals at the venerable Fox reality behemoth. This comes after weeks of speculation that the man is a total control freak who previously required a security detail during similarly awful behavior on CBS's Star Search. Apparently the straw that broke the camel's back was when Archuleta Sr. insisted that his son include a lyric of Sean Kingston's "Beautiful Girls" during last week's performance of "Stand By Me." While the move was a nice touch on stage, it only meant grief for Fox, which then had to dole out increased royalties for the song. Oops. The plus side is that the Fox people don't have to stare at Jeff Archuletta's stupid hats all day long. The down side, however, is that poor David is now probably receiving twice the number of lashings — verbal and otherwise. It's okay though. Michael Jackson turned out pretty well, right?

For more information, check out the article here.

P.S. Could the photo above be any more perfect to sum up the bizarre Archuleta relationship? One word to the photographer: Pulitzer.

Photo via Rickey.org

So of course the one week I step away from American Idol all the controversy hits. Paula judged two songs after only hearing one! She's crazy! Oh well. It would have been fun to have blogged about that, but honestly, if given the choice between missing a classic Paula moment or listening to an hour of Neil Diamond, I'd choose the former.

Of course, Paulagate 2008 wasn't the only problem hitting Idol. News reports have emerged citing the show's massive erosion in the teen demographic. The producers have obviously gone on the defensive, saying that it's just natural audience erosion after seven years, but I think the blame should fall squarely on Nigel Lythgoe et al. for cramming this season chockful' of golden oldies. I mean, do they really expect the twelve year old girls to flock to Neil Diamond and Andrew Lloyd Weber?

This week was no exception; although, it did provide a bit of wiggle room in the "cool" department. The Idols had to take on songs from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame catalogue, and while this did offer a huge variety, it again felt like anything but contemporary. Still, it was nice to see some Bob Marley in the mix, even if it wasn't necessarily the best execution ever.

I can't tell you how excited I was for Mariah Carey week on American Idol. It wasn't because I'm a particularly huge Mariah fan or anything — although I do like her. No, it was because the promise of hearing some youthful songs was downright intoxicating. The musical themes this season have been particularly old fashioned, and when the singers get the chance to do something exciting and contemporary, they often settle for a bland ballad. No wonder the ratings are down. Such a shame that this crop, which has been considerably more talented and charismatic than last year's bunch, can't resurrect the great Idol machine.

At least the show took a step in the right direction by finally excising the horseless Kristy Lee Cook. It's kind of too bad, actually. The poor girl came on strong(er) in recent weeks, and honestly, she was shaping up to be a surprising underdog. Considering how much of a punch line she had been in the semifinals and the Beatles weeks, I thought for sure I'd be praising her ouster. Instead, I felt kind of sad. I'd grown to like Kristy, even if her attempts at humor made Ryan look like the second coming of Will Ferrell. She showed a lot of promise in the past few performances, but the truth is that as the numbers dwindled, she failed to find a certain hook that would keep her in the running. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: she should have showed more skin. While Ruben Studdard wailed goodbye like a dying walrus, we watched Kristy rise to Idol fame, and I once again was reminded of how hot she was when she first appeared on TV. What happened, Kristy? Where did that go? Hopefully not to the glue factory with her horse. OH I KEED. I'm sure her horse is fine... and resentful. It's probably sitting in its new, awful stable, thinking to itself, "Bitch, you sold me so you could enter a competition that you didn't win? THANKS. Now I'm gonna turn into Elmer's because you can't pull some personality out of your ass."

There was seriously way too much Idol this week. A two and a half hour telethon was simply uncalled for. Did they really need to clog up our DVRs with such a bloated event that despite starting at 7:30 and despite being mostly pre-taped, still went ten minutes long? The answer is no. I'm personally not shocked that ratings for Idol Gives Back plunged nearly ten million viewers from last year. After America sat through a big, long, ponderous event with essentially no payoff in 2007, there was very little to lure us back for a second helping this time around. Honestly, the most exciting part of the whole extravaganza was when Sheila E. knocked over her cymbals. I'm thinking that next year, they've gotta include some results action in the activities because otherwise, there's very little incentive for us to watch — unless, of course, we plan on indulging in another horrendous comic skit from Robin Williams.

Hello. Celine Dion here.

Celine Dion really is hilarious. I respect what she's doing in this video (charity and whatnot), but I can't help simultaneously laughing at her voice, which sounds something like a Québécois version of one of those computerized Mac voices. Each time I hear her say "the most... heartbreaking... staTISTic," I let out a small chortle.

Gosh, there was so much American Idol this week, and very little of it was actually any good. Quite frankly, I'm a bit exhausted from it all, and I haven't even seen the results show yet (although, I know who was ejected). I'm gonna work on a little wrap up this morning, but while you wait for it — and I know you are ALL waiting for it eagerly — check out this other Idol piece I just wrote for Dipdive. Heck, I'll even give you the first paragraph here:

When American Idol aired its second annual charity special, Idol Gives Back, earlier this week, the producers seemed to go out of their way to cram as many celebrity cameos as humanly possible into the mammoth show. Yet despite an accommodating two-and-a-half hour running time, there were at least three people who still were left out of the fun. That’s right, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, and John McCain were nowhere to be seen, instead relegated to the proverbial sidelines that was Thursday’s results show. It sort of seemed like a bizarre snub. Surely these three Presidential candidates had enough clout to warrant a place on the main stage, but I guess Fox felt other celebrities were more valuable for fundraising needs. And honestly, I kind of agree. I mean, out of all the stars that took the stage, who would you turn away?

Continue reading 'AMERICAN IDOL' TO POLITICAL CANDIDATES: And You Are?? ».

Last night, wee Ramiele Malubay was tearfully ejected from the American Idol universe, bringing an end to my ability to call her Rambutan week in and week out. It's a joke that I think only me and my friend Jash ever laughed at, but laugh we did, and now America's little Filipino is gone — off to a rousing five year circuit of gay bars and parade floats. It was her time to go. While she was great in the semi-finals, the big stage swallowed her up, and she never quite brought the confidence or originality that her early performances promised. It's all for the best though. Rambutan was starting to get a bit too precious for my tastes -- what with her oversized t-shirts, her constant hugging, her clutched hands over her heart, and her big doe-eyes. She left at just the right time.

Of course, there's never a results show without Rambutan shedding enough tears to fill a small bathtub, and so it should be no surprise that when it finally came time for her ouster, the waterworks were more excessive than even the heartiest Danny Noriega farewell could summon. Poor Rambutan cowered for ages in the arms of Kristy Lee Cook, who just barely made the cut once again. It should be noted that Kristy took a step in the right direction last night by wearing a top that was halfway youthful. However, whatever progress she made was undermined by her pitiful attempt at humor. You know what I'm talking about: that lame "Kristy's Chair" gag she had. In case you missed it while you were fast forwarding, Kristy ambled onto the stage with a little note that said "Kristy's Chair" or "Kristy's Seat." It was intended to reflect her penchant for always landing in the bottom three, but instead, it just seemed strange. I mean, I really didn't get the joke. What was she going to do with that note? Put it on the stool? Because THAT's funny...

Photo via Rickey.org

When I found out that last night's theme on American Idol was "Songs From Your Birth Year," I was kind of excited. It looked like maybe, just maybe, we might scratch the '90s. I know that's crazy talk -- having a show featuring young people, aimed at young people, and watched by young people, actually performing songs less than thirty years old -- but it's kind of what I'd like to hear. Granted, I respect the challenge of taking an old song and making it contemporary, but at a certain point, you've gotta wonder how many of these poor kids are gonna be judged by their singing and not their ability to rearrange a tune. And yes, I realize that modernizing something doesn't require a whole new take, just a fresh performance, but still... it's getting excessive. I like the funky reinterpretations of Michael Jackson as much as anyone, but ever since Blake Lewis graced the stage, I feel like the singers are going out of their way to outdo each other with the musical shenanigans.

Then again, it's nice to see these kids challenging themselves. The alternative is clocking in a boring, subpar performance like my dear little Rambutan (a.k.a. Ramiele). Back in the semifinals, she was on a roll, but ever since graduating to the big stage, she's lost her pint-sized magic. She tried to get it back by belting out the Heart classic, "Alone," but the sad truth is that this will always be Carrie Underwood's Idol song. The other sad truth is that Rambutan simply couldn't pull it off. I don't know what's happened to her voice, but it's been weeks since she hit a proper note. The upside with a traditional rendition of a song is that when it connects, it connects. However, if you don't, well, it's a total failure. There are no points for creativity to be had. Rambutan, I hope you get one more chance to redeem yourself, but I fear it'll be back to the karaoke bars and sushi restaurants for you soon enough.

With the all too early exit of Amanda Overmyer from American Idol, I couldn't help but get downright introspective. What sort of a world is this where smokey-voiced, sartorially challenged singers can't find a mass market in America anymore? It's not, right I tell you. It's not!

Seriously, I was bummed that Amanda got the heave-ho last night. She was never destined to win the competition, but I loved her growly voice, her attitude, and, dare I crib a word from Paula, her authenticity. Plus, she was a nice change from the morose ballads of David Archuletta and Rambutan. Oh well.

Since the reality of another Kristy Lee Cook performance is all too harsh for people who are fans of "music" and "in tune singing," I provide you with this distraction to help you through the day. It's my latest contribution for Dipdive, and it dares to ask, "What Can Candidates Learn from American Idol?" OOOOH.

Check out all the goodness here.

Watching last night's episode of American Idol, it occurred to me that we've yet to see any of these contestants sing anything that's less than eighteen years old. Think about it: the semi-finals forced the singers to stick to the '60s, '70s, and ultimately the '90s, and now we've been stuck with two, count 'em, two weeks of Beatles tunes. It was cool last week, but this time around, it was all kind of lame. The arrangements were worse, the singing was uninspired, and the entire conceit was simply tired. I'm ready to see this show head into a more current direction —  if only to see what David Archuletta must do when faced with a non-adult-contemporary tune.

Earlier tonight, I decided I would merely fast forward through tonight's American Idol results show, and yet, as is always the case, I sunk nearly forty minutes into the damn thing, fast forwarding only occasionally when group numbers and phone calls and McPheever got too much for me to handle. Oh Idol. You're such a cruel beast.

To quote David Archuleta: "Oh man!"

Talk about a surprise ending. We waited nearly two hours for David Archuleta to take the American Idol stage, and just when we were expecting a moving, melodious, or at the very least, competent performance, the semi-pubescent phenom up and bombed the hell out of his The Beatles tune. First he forgot the lyrics, then he lost his confidence, then he forgot more lyrics, and then he just stopped hitting proper notes altogether. He was sharp, he was flat, and most of all, he was awful. The sadistic side of me wanted to enjoy this fall from grace, but it was so incredibly awkward that I instead simply wanted to cut to commercial halfway through the song. I actually empathized with the little guy. No, I haven't had any nationally televised musical performances go sour, but I have endured the terrible experience of botching a movie pitch once, and nothing's worse than that sinking feeling in your stomach when you know you've lost the room. It feels like the walls are closing in on you. Literally. You get hot, you hear your voice talking, and you can't believe it's even coming out of your mouth. Even worse, you don't even know what IS coming out of your mouth. You want to just throw your hands up and say, "Okay, let's just end this," but you can't; so you push forward and hope that somehow you can find a way out of this mortifying situation. Of course, David's nightmare performance was viewed by thirty million people; so I guess it's probably just a taaaad worse.