For a show dedicated to the rock n’ roll music, I’m going to have to disagree with Paula as after watching, my appetite was not satisfied. (Even though I think she was REALLY trying to come on to our poor, defenseless Cookie, in her creepy, Paula way. She needs some lovin’ y’all!) Oh no, I am still left “Hungry Like the Wolf.” Ha! I was expecting Disneyland and was instead served some piping hot Knott’s Berry Farm. And you don’t do that to a six-year old!
I’ve also heard that last week’s rant entry was a bit long, so I’ll be keeping this entry to a scant 8000 words. You are welcome, whiners.
This week, the kids sang songs from a list of 500 Songs that Shaped Rock n’ Roll. After perusing this list, it is apparent that I could get into the Hall of Fame without too much work. Country Joe and the Fish? Culture Club? Some band called Moby Grape? Seriously, is there ANY criteria in place to shape rock n’ roll? This morning after eating my Grape Nuts, I think I shaped some rock n’ roll of my own. Put me in the hall!
I could very well be enshrined here one day.
And in case you haven’t noticed, this week we were down to only four kids. That’s right, four. Apparently, this little train ride that we’ve been on since January(!) is shortly coming to a close. And as for the rules, the kids are singing two songs a piece and then getting a critique after every song. Thanks for spelling that out for Paula there, Seacrest. It’s nice to get the format out of the way right there at the beginning. We certainly don’t want to serve up any curveballs to these “experts” that make millions to sip out of their Coke cups. It frazzles them!
The hardest job in the world. That a monkey could do better.
Bucking conventional wisdom, the producers decide to put David Cook up first. This should have been Jason or Syesha’s spot, but Jason was too busy installing elaborate hippie jewelry in his braids, hanging out with his friends, packing his duffle bags (because you know he doesn’t OWN a suitcase) and not rehearsing or practicing. Because oh yeah, he’s already given up. The Cook starts off with Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” which last time I checked, is a song that contains absolutely zero rock. Since Seacrest constantly reminds us that Cook’s name is actually “Rocker David” you’d think that this would be his night to shine. To rock out with his crockpot out (or however that saying goes.) But this song didn’t contain any of that elusive “David Cook Magic.” And no rock whatsover. And quite honestly, it seems like that magic only happens when David takes a sucky song and totally changes it so it blows less, or when he’s acting stupendously smug on stage and writing commands on the palm of his hand to show us as he hits the crescendo. So no. No magic this week, although “Baba O’Riley” was on it’s way to being cool, but with an elapsed time of 45 seconds, there was hardly any time for the Cook train to get on the track! One good thing however, is that with our contestants singing two songs, they get to scurry backstage and switch into another outfit and maybe reapply hair product. David apparently enjoys a nice blazer, and swooshing his hair forward over his gigantic forehead, but what’s up with that weird, chain-y dog collar thing around his neck? It sort of accentuates your doughy whiteness, don’t you think, Dave?
Does this microphone stand make me look fat? No. But your necklace isn’t helping.
And P.S. a big shout out to loyal reader Pattie for finally letting me know just what Dave’s acronym stands for. Where I thought it stood for Abnormal Coordination, instead it stands for Adam Cook. Not only his brother with brain cancer, but his personal hero as well. I figured that it had to be something noble and super-sensitive like that, because if you recall, Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber was able to pick up on Dave’s sensitivity when he made him sing that sucky Phantom song really close to his face. Like, awkwardly close. Like almost kissing close. Lloyd Webber gives me the heebs.
Next up was the sacrificial lamb, Jason Castro. Who was apparently so eager to get kicked off the show that he couldn’t even make it past the B’s on the list. Bob Marley and Bob Dylan. Done. I’ve seen some tank jobs in my time, the 2006 Boston Celtics, the 2007 Miami Dolphins, Mike Tyson eating Evander Holyfield’s ear, Karl Malone in any Game 7, but this was a world record flameout. I wonder if Brooke or Carly or freak, even Luke “Weak Voice McGillicuddy” Menard were a little bit upset to see Jason get on stage and deliver an epic punt with these two performances when THEY could have been there. (Although come on, Luke never had a chance.) Even though he was flipping his hair around rather energetically and channeling a little bit of a white Bob Marley, or at the very least Ziggy or even Damian if we’re desperate. (How many kids did Bob have, anyway?) It still felt like he spent only about four minutes practicing backstage before getting on stage. I shot the tambourine man indeed. I did a better version in the shower this morning. While I was gargling mouthwash. And did you catch the message he told America when he was done? Clearly mouthing the words “Don’t.” “Vote.” While desperately contemplating whether he should get Ryan in a clinch and bite his ear clean off of his head so that he could finally, finally get off this star making vehicle.
Jason in mid-yawn. Again. Could he be any more bored?
And you’ve got to hand it to Simon, because he’s not the most athletic guy in the world but I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if he had rolled up the sleeves on his V-neck and actually leapt over his big Plexiglass judge desk to tackle Jason and drag him to the ground by his hair. He was looking quite furious at the conclusion of both songs. Apparently you don’t denigrate the integrity of the Idol stage on Simon’s watch. That’s Paula’s job. And I know that Jason gave up more than three weeks ago, but “I Shot the Sheriff”? Not even “No Woman, No Cry” or “Waiting in Vain”? You may have Bob’s hair dude, but you’re clearly not a fan of which songs are actually good.
Celebrate me home, already!
Next out was our adorable, freaked out puppy Davey A, who says the same thing in every pre-song “package.” (A word I learned from Paula this week. Perv.) That he picked this song because he loves to sing it, and it feels so great when he’s singing it, and when he closes his eyes he gets totally lost in the song like a kid in the mall at Christmastime and that… oh look a dove, riding on a white unicorn, descending from the heavens! I like you David, as you seem like the cute little brother that I never had a chance to pummel at home, but I am SO bored with you. And then you don’t help things by going ahead and picking “Stand by Me” and “Love Me Tender” Aaaaak! If this was a cruise ship, I would have spent the whole night gambling and eating at three or four buffets so I wouldn’t have to hear you. Or I’d be seeing how far I could dangle over the railing without actually falling into the ocean. Truthfully, even though these songs suck, he did sing them really well. I’ve determined he’s like a good pair of polyester pants. You know what you’re going to get when you put them on, they’ll last forever, they’ll NEVER be stylish and they’re about as exciting as a pair of polyester pants. We’ll see you in the finals David.
Singing and incorporating arm movement #3 .
And closing out the show was Ms. Mercado. Now, is it just me, or is she hot in here? Forget Leona Lewis, I think that I have a new Michael Johns, and it only took twelve weeks and some normal looking hair to make it happen. Apparently the stylists finally decided to stop sabotaging her and make this a fair fight, as they mercifully found a wig that looked like it actually could have been created this century and that it wasn’t just retrieved from a lake or neighboring highway. And probably because she’s been on the brink of death every. Single. Week. Syesha decides to be the anti-Jason and actually perform while pulling out all of the stops. Down to the point of incorporating backup singers, shiny prom dresses and some ATTAtude! I was just about to pick up the phone and vote for her as her second song came to a close and her hair was all PIZOW!, and her dress was all SHAZOOM!, and her girls were all PLAKOW!, and she was even getting emotional, but then she started to speak. At which point I slowly lowered the phone and put it away so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch it again. Look, Eesh you did an ok job with “Change is Gonna Come” by one of music’s greats, but comparing the Civil Rights Movement to your “journey” on American Idol is kind of like me saying I’m just like Rosa Parks when I choose not to get my can off the couch because I want to watch four straight hours of “American Gladiators.”
Emotional. Moving. And that was just her dress.
And why do these reality shows always choose to term the road to the end a “journey?” Screeching a different song every week has been an emotional, education journey where I’ve grown and learned so much about myself. Are they actually listening to Paula? (Who by the way, broke off an “It’s been a pleasure to hear your soul this week!) What? Is that even possible? I can’t even SEE your soul, much less hear the wonderful music it makes. And dude, you’re on a reality show. The only journey that has taken place is me walking to my refrigerator so that I can get fatter and dumber watching you for the past four months. P.S. Velveeta is tasty.
So she cried a lot and finally had her “moment” that the judges have been pushing all of the contestants to create all year. Even though while she was crying, I swear I heard Randy say under his breath <cough> Broadway! <cough> and the producers finally did what they tried to do last week and got rid of the tinny voiced Rasta boy. If we’re being honest though, you’ve got to hand it to Jason. As during the entire audition process he received all of 12 seconds of airtime and STILL made it to the final four. While they were busy cramming Carly and Michael Johns down our throats, we only caught glimpses of the weird looking kid with dreads and a guitar. He was expected to be early round cannon fodder a la those people who made the top 24 that I can no longer name. So good for you, Jason. You made it much farther than even you thought you’d go. Your stoner friends are going to be pissed.