"Where else can you find a welder, a bartender, a font designer and a comedian?" (Um, AA? The Manhole? I give.) "...All on the verge of stardom?" Ah. This must be American Idol. He tells us about Alexis, Sarver and Gokey, and they clap for themselves; he tells us about the judges and they clap for themselves. Paula looks like she's wearing a Russ Meyer wig. It's nice. Simon winks and Ryan, and Randy talks nonsense as usual; Kara smugly explains that there are no second chances, and song choice is important. Paula agrees with that ever-so-fresh suggestion, and Ryan needles Simon about needing flattering lighting. Simon says he has no advice for the herd this week, because it's too late to worry about it, because they're about to sing. Randy says something dumb and Ryan's like, "Totally, Randy."
Here they are: Jasmine in a Pink Lady jacket, Dueling Piano Matt with dueling piano airguns, Jeanine whom I don't recognize, "Nick" making creepy Phantom Of The Paradise moves at the camera, Allison with the red hair, Kris that cute guy we never saw, Megan "Joy" Corkrey wearing a pregnancy dress with white fuzzy dice, Bear Porn Matt, Jesse Langseth looking like she's coming for Bella Swan at the Prom, Kai's horrible Snoopy-Ears hair, the suddenly frightening Mishavonna, and the always frightening Adam Lambert with a fake tan and thirty necklaces working it like they're storming Kiamo Ko and the rent is due.
Jasmine remembers screaming with the fam at the audition, watching with her awesome mom in the other room, and how she outshone Rose and Bikini Kill in Hollywood. She'll be singing "Love Song" by Sara Bareilles, a song I don't want to love but always do. It's like this perfect mix of Songwriter 101 Vanessa Branch DioGuardi stuff and the old version of that, which lies somewhere on the Billy Idol/Joe Jackson spectrum. Her voice is nervous and relies overmuch on learned technique without the power behind it, but once she hits the chorus she sounds almost awesome. There's a lack of experience with the mic, maybe? I don't know. Her voice has all the qualities and appurtenances of beauty as we know it, and we've heard the girl sing a bunch of times. It's weird, and sort of shouty, like midway between Jordin and those angry singer-ah characterz-ah that Maya Rudolph used to play.
Randy notes first that she is: kicking off the second round, from Mississippi yo, both good and bad, pitchy, not Rihanna, and maybe chose wrong. Kara says she's young and commercial, but started way too low and picked a weird song. She agrees that there were moments, but it was not good. Paula says she wants to disagree, but cannot, and then says one of those Paula things that's actually totally true and insightful, but is expressed so weirdly that it's highly doubtful Jasmine understands her. Actually, it's doubtful Paula herself would get it if you played this back for her tomorrow, but I totally agree: "You try you know you really gave it your all in trying to change the song in making it an interpreting your version of it but you sang all around it and it caused you to go off-pitch." Which is exactly right, if you said it in English.
Simon's just sad because she's beautiful and confident, but doesn't have a Great Voice. He is booed, and calls the fans assholes, because they are: he says she's a future star, but has a destiny and picked a bad song. Jasmine says she had fun, and that's enough for the audience to start cheering her on. She tells Ryan the same thing, still as it if means something; he asks Randy if she deserves a spot and Randy just blatantly repeats the last fucking word anybody said: "commercial."
I love Kara for many reasons but I have to say that "commercial" is the new "pitchy" in that they don't really always use it correctly, but I prefer "commercial" because it's actually the point. If this were Disney they could slap a vocoder on there (no matter what they will, but you know what I mean): she's cute, obviously smart, can sing just fine, owns the stage. "Commercial" is the highest compliment these people could ever say to you, because it means you are worth selling. "You are capable of becoming a luxury item and/or causing riots." It means you've got your hand on the possibility of becoming Hannah Montana. On the other hand, that means you have to be Hannah Montana, which is disgusting.
Matt Giraud looks and talks like a human version of Matthew Lillard; surprisingly, he also remembers Hollywood quite strongly, where he got a standing O for singing about the Georgia on his mind. Then, awesomely, he's going to be singing "Viva La Vida," and hoping to put a soulful twist on it. Which is canny, because the one thing the beautiful and vacant songs of Coldplay desperately need is a soul of any kind. Not many people know this, but Gwyneth Paltrow actually knits her own baby clothes and scarves and reusable grocery bags out of people's souls. I have one. I got it from Gwyneth's etsy, and it is made I believe from Eliza Dushku.
So the question is whether a frizzy little Vince Vaughn-alike fella like Matt G can sell the song. And with a little scruff, a fitted black leather jacket and a mysterious sudden hotness, he does? To the point where I feel like Joey McIntyre has finally been explained to me. It is hard to believe that we're going to hear a lovelier or more controlled... Oh, man. Ouch. He fucks up the highest note in his performance really bad, and although he's gamely talented about the whole thing, he doesn't really get back on the horse. Everything falls apart, and no amount of left-field cuteness or camera-ready pouting -- though they somehow fix your face, which we all thought was going to make you the Elliott of Attainable Boys of this season -- is going to fix the awful sounds you just made and continue to make apparently unstoppably, so it all just goes rapidly to shit, and even previously cute tics and tricks and things are starting to look puppety and weird, like when Corey Feldman started dressing up like Michael Jackson instead of going to therapy.
Kara says the experiment of putting soul on top of that fabulous song has failed, and has lost steam since Hollywood. Paula tells him she misses the piano, and found the mashup queasy as Kara does, but preferred this version to the rehearsal one earlier. Simon repeats the "girls," and calls it "horrible." Randy, I don't think he gets to talk this time. I just wish one of these bastards would come out with: "This is a clutch situation, and you choked. That sucks for you," instead of being all song choice song choice who are you as an artist, because in fact in this particular case there was a way to rock the shit out of that, and he almost did, and then he choked, and that sucks for him, the end.
Ryan kisses Chris Martin's far-away ass for no reason and then Matt's like, "Guys? I like Coldplay. This isn't about what you think it's about. I want to be like Coldplay." Which if you are these people maybe you don't know that before making their bid to be the U2 (and essentially closing the deal) with these grandiose earworm songs, they were pretty much square in the middle of Matt's wheelhouse. But then, if these four tools don't know enough to know that, neither will America, so I guess the point still stands. If he'd sung "Trouble" or even "Yellow," he'd be in way better shape. That whole album was about being the Best Boyfriend Ever, just like Matt G: artistic but not broody, kind but not unctuous, troubled but not troubling, terrified of spies. I just like his voice. I will miss it.
Jeanine, well. Simon called her "naughty" at auditions and loved her in Hollywood. She's fucked up looking. Bless her heart, I mean I'm not trying to be a shit but the words are failing me and I don't know how else to explain it. She's pretty, somehow, and very charming, and her legs go on for about six km, but on a purely "of what does this salad before me comprise" level, you're looking at: a proto-Wildenstein drag queen, there's some Angelina Jolie in there, a head approximately the size of that piano-playing moon man from McDonald's commercials long ago. No, you know who she looks like? Wayland Flowers and Madame. Both of them, but mostly the latter.
And she will be singing "This Love," by one of her "favorite bands ever," Maroon 5. I'm of two minds already, tonight, because these songs are awesome in a five-minutes-ago nostalgia kind of way which I love, but really? Your favorite bands include Maroon 5? Because guess what: Maroon 5 has never been and will never be somebody's favorite band. That's like saying your favorite food is white pepper. It's delightful and it has a little kick on it -- and as anorexics go, Adam Levine is the foxiest -- but it's not actually a food. Unless you just discovered food and that was the first thing you ever tasted and you're like, "I'm sticking with this. Delicious. What do they call this? Songs About Jane? I'm not going to need any other albums from here on out. I'm good." But have you heard about Blues Traveler, Jeanine? The Spin Doctors? Smashmouth?
Also, doesn't this song have about a thousand references to fucking and drugs in it? Am I just gross that I thought those were the words? No, because they blanked out things in the video when he said certain delightful things, I remember. I gotta ask the internet... Okay, she left in the part about how she is too high to maintain a rational discourse, which is cool, but seems to have chosen the half of the song that's not straight up about boning rawdog style. Classy choice, Jeanine who we've barely even met and will not be seeing more of. The performance itself is serviceable and she has a lovely upper range, but the Song Choice birds are circling. Let us watch them strike.
Paula compliments her legs, notes that it is Season Eight, and kicks it to Cowell. Simon says it was terrible, painful, an effort and a struggle, and inappropriate for her, and she has legs. Randy notes the legs, laughs at his joke that two other people just made, and then says his favorite part was when it was over. Then he passes it to Kara but won't let her talk, because he sucks. Kara tries to get a sentence out and then on live television says out of nowhere that Simon is obsessed with blowjobs from black girls, because he won't stop interrupting her and she just kind of loses track of shit. Oh, Kara.
So Jeanine takes their asses to task for the producers not showing her in the last fifty weeks, and the "under the radar" elephant in the room finally gets talked about. Then she just kind of babbles and wastes everybody's time and makes retarded faces and does her best to give Ryan something to cry about, but he gets the numbers out over her. So she's now: talked back to the judges, inspired off-color talk among the judges, been complimented on her legs, talked over Ryan, begged on live TV for another chance... Any more of Ryan's buttons she can possibly push? Yes. Yes. She throws herself on him, laughing Tatiana levels of fake as she puts that giant face in his face, and you can actually see his stylohyoid muscle twitch so he doesn't throw up on her, because wow did you just lose it on TV or what. Go home, old lady.
Let's learn more about Nick Mitchell, shall we? He says that Simon's hate for him is like a child whose lunch has been stolen, and explains to us that the difference between Nick Mitchell -- who I hate -- and Normund Gentle -- who I hate more -- is no more and no less than a shiny shirt. He asks us to "be serious" and contemplate the very serious question of whether or not he's going to be the Justin Timberlake. The answer is no, because we still have not been told what he's even doing here so how can you answer that question, but still: no. He gets sincere and pouty about how he's not trying to be the Justin Timberlake, he's just doing what he "knows how to do." WHICH IS WHAT.
Randy agrees that "we've got real singing jumping off the box," which is just what I was thinking only not stupid, and the crowd agrees. Kara's like, "Shit, girl. You don't even know you rock." I'm so happy for her! Paula talks about telephone books for awhile, and Allison's mom starts crying. Simon goes, "You are the best tonight by a clear mile" and pronounces the competition begun. He mentions how boring and personality-free she was upstairs with Ryan, and how fucking amazing it was to watch what happened . I'm so glad he said that, because she really does need the confidence offstage to match her awesomeness here. Ryan points out how much more comfortable she is onstage, and she goes right back to being totally boring and lame. What a confusing little mixture. I'm nervous. Ryan straight thanks her for making tonight worthwhile, essentially. I'm pleased. Pleased and nervous.
up: Kris Allen, who is so hot it's unbelievable and who will be singing "Man In The Mirror," which will be weird. I wish we'd seen more of him because if I have to look at these bitches for months and months, I would take this guy over just about everybody. Who knows if he has a good voice yet, but I'm rooting for him, because this job can be hard and get you down. It's not like every week you find out you broke some poor fat guy bad enough that he ended up in Playgirl. You know? It's those moments. Is this one of them? He's fine. He's a good performer, his jaw goes sideways when he sings which I always like, his pitch and control are very good. I almost feel like his voice counts against him because you have so many options for second-guessing yourself when the person looks like that, and you also have so many options for hateration if you feel like your chosen pony is getting dicked by this cute guy.
Kara complains about his song choice, which is valid I'm assuming but we can't really know since this guy just came out of nowhere; Paula looooves him; Simon also loves him. Paula kisses him for agreeing with her. Simon admits he's not the best guy singer -- namedrops Danny, actually -- but that he is fabulous and commercial, which is better. There's the distinct feeling that Simon's addressing the under-the-radar thing by pumping him up, because he really does deserve to get through. Randy points out essentially that this is a great followup to Allison, and Ryan cannot take his hands off the kid, which is always a good sign. Oh, Kris. I do hope we will see you again. up, Megan. I'm half-expecting to see Ryan still attached to Kris after the commercial.
No dice. There's Megan, doing her weird/interesting screechy-Billie thing and wearing too much blush as always, and there's her kid, and then onstage she does an annoying akimbo-bop move as the song's starting, and then sings Corinne Rae Bailey pretty much like a talented white girl might sing Corinne Rae Bailey. It's what Randy would call "pitchy," and I've never been a huge fan of Megan's weird phrasing and pronunciations and generally shaky-yippy blues voice, but it's pleasant enough. Her weird Veruca Salt Tantrum moves are very awesome, and complement her trashy sleeve tattoo in an off-kilter way. I guess I can handle this girl.
Paula praises her hipness, coolness, song choice, beauty and whatever: "I ♥ You," she says. Simon calls her a "funny little thing," but that she oversang the second half after she got overexcited. Paula brings up Nelly Furtado and Megan gets sassy about how actually she rocked it, and instead of telling her to fuck off, he very kindly says that he hopes she gets votes. Randy mentions Duffy, Adele and Amy Winehouse -- which, note that Randy does not grade on an originality scale -- and Kara's like, "You are a package artist," which in this context means, "Adele is the fattest human being I've ever seen and Winehouse is a trainwreck on a massive scale and Duffy's the maudlin boring one, so basically let's make you the pretty tattooed white American version of a white British version of an actual thing, and then we will have much money to buy your drugs with." Ryan does a little dance with her, and she smarts off to him too, and he deals with it, but I wish she would shut up so I could make my peace with her weird self, or at least get snotty and chatty with people other than Ryan and Simon, who have no time for any of it.
Matt B talks about how he was totally starstruck by meeting the judges, which is how you know he's from Oklahoma. They are not stars! That's like pissing yourself because you got seated to Willard Scott. Noteworthy, but not worth gulping. But oh, his speaking voice is scrumdiddly. What a fabulous man. He will be singing "If You Could Only See," a lovely song from the Clifton-Leery Nuptials, and he will be doing it with his very interesting voice and a surprising amount of charisma, and he will be proud as all get out when he is done.
Simon says he really likes Matt, but "absolutely" hated the song, and finds this frustrating. Simon always hates the wedding songs. He calls the performance uncomfortable, which I am unsure about, and mostly just apologizes and talks about how sad he is that he didn't like it. Matt disagrees, with what exactly I'm unsure, and Randy calls him boring. Actually, Randy makes a good point, which is that if you're singing rock, which I guess technically this song is, you should bring a bit more power instead of just beautifully presenting it. Kara's also disappointed by the technical skill and talent he brought to the ill-chosen song. Paula agrees, and wishes that he would have celebrated the guy we all fell in love with. He's like, "I love that song though." I do too, Matt. Ryan's like, TTYN, and not feeling great about it.
Jesse talks about the percussion, which has nothing to do with her performance, and Randy makes everybody clap for awhile. Ugh. He's like the class clown at the end of the day when he's run out of gas and still acting like a tool, but without the "clown" and a total lack of class, so it's not fun anymore. Or like that one clever loud drunk whose mouth keeps talking long after the cleverness is gone: Just weird, and exhausting because everybody else is just as tired and spaced as he is. Paula calls Jesse "captivating," here and throughout, with unique phrasing and a memorable, cool air. Totally agree. I mean, I don't want to be at a bar with her past about ten, but I like her. Simon's like, "Maybe you are not so memorable, even with your lovely voice." He calls her "too cool for school," which makes her laugh, but his question -- why would anybody pick up the phone for that? -- is valid. Ryan points out that Randy dissed Simon, among others, with the "language of music" stuff, and Randy babbles, and Jesse babbles and then goes into a sort of tic-laden freaky fake-slutty routine into the camera, and we're out. Jesse, take a nap.
Three left. I have never loved Ryan Seacrest as much as when he just said that. Kai puts a hat over that stupid-ass hair for his package video, and we see him being beefy and sweet in a variety of cities, and we talk about his sweet little mommy a whole lot, and then it's on. "What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted?" Apparently it sprouts fugly Parisian painterly affectations in the area of its hair. I don't think I've ever hated... It's like his hair is a separate person in the shot that I hate. There's Kai, whom I adore, and then there's that ubiquitous Asshole, the Hair. It makes everything he does seem silly and amateurish, bouncy curls bouncing around looking like an art school grad student. Do you understand that this hair does not just happen? This hair was carefully crafted, to be as awful as possible. It's like Tatiana© the brand, like, it was cut this way and styled this way specifically so that he could look stupid. That makes me so angry. Oh, the song? Song's great. Whatever. He's got a great voice, is a pretty boring person, does a good job with only a few issues staying on key, and generally is adorable. Plus that Asshole, the Hair.
Kara notes the pitch issues, but admires his commitment to the performance. Paula gets him to flash his gorgeous teeth several times; she mentions the pitch issues as well, but calls him a great performer on the jump-off. Simon calls it a hotel or wedding performance, and says even better that it's like something you'd hear on American Idol. I mean, I'm paraphrasing but he's like, "I've heard this a million times on this show, and it's always crappy." Randy calls it safe and lame, and Kai flashes the pearlies and talks about how he is saving his relevant performances for... Later, I guess.
Ugh, I'm so done. At least the 90-minute burnout didn't show up. Paula's like, "That was like not being here at all and instead being at the Adam Lambert concert," and tells him he's far and away the best this week. True, or not true. Simon's like, "I feel weird and crazy. True or not true. Either way, this is going to make people feel weird and crazy and act weird and crazy." Randy's like, "I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU." Then he makes a list of every boys' name he -- or I -- ever scrawled on a Trapper Keeper: "It's Steven Tyler meets Fall Out Boy meets Robert Pattinson!" I cannot believe that Randy Jackson just named Robert Pattinson as his number three crush. That is so magical. I want to watch Twilight with Randy Jackson. That is a lie, because obviously really I want to watch Twilight with Ryan Seacrest, but Randy can come.
And so then most awesomely that's exactly what happens -- Ryan's like, "Edward Cullen! He called you Edward!" -- and then even more awesomely Adam Lambert is like, "I know! My favorite book!" And it's... Is this what it's going to be like this year? Ryan and Randy and Adam squealing about Twilight and climbing all over each other? Is Adam Lambert the Peter Sarsgaard of this show and can turn everybody gay even your boyfriend? I know I, for one, feel a little bit gayer than when we started. Don't you? Thanks, Adam.
Usually at this point I give thought to who will go or win or die or whatever happens on this show, but now I just don't even have it in me. That got so bizarre so fast, just like I knew it would, but I forgot it was a marathon and not a sprint, and all I can say is that I will probably still be feeling weird and crazy this time tomorrow, and hopefully you will too. See you there.