For Katharine, Clive has chosen the "R. Kelly classic..." and that's when I threw something at the TV. Every single season, right? With this song? I'm not even going to get into the laundry list of complaints about R. Kelly, but specifically, "I Believe I Can Fly" is impressive to sing if you're a gospel choir and no one else. And certainly not Katharine McPhee, who is, in case Clive may not have noticed, not a belter. Of all the stupid song choices this season, this one is the worst. And there Kat sits, having to tell the Velvet Boogeyman that she appreciates what he's doing for her. So, on the stage, of course she looks like a Botticelli painting. She's smiling along with the sappy lyrics, and not sounding awful yet, because we haven't hit the chorus. And then when we do, Kat just slams on the brakes and lets the backup singers take the melody. She'll be fine with the diva crap. It's annoying, to be fucking sure, but it's also guerilla combat, so I can't fault her for the intention. Sing the melody and she'll crash and burn. This way she at least sounds decent, if annoying. I'd still prefer that whole performance never happened.
Randy starts off by saying Katharine looks amazing and, look, I realize every week I make mention of how awesome she looks, too, but I'm supposed to be writing about a TV show and Randy's supposed to be a singing judge, and most importantly, when Katharine has already cracked the super-secret code that "you look pretty" means "you sounded like ass," maybe it's time to find a better way. Anyway. Randy was not a fan of jettisoning the melody, and I can appreciate where he's coming from, even if I think she saved herself further embarrassment by doing so. Paula then goes on forever about Kat's clothes and appearance and "as a woman" and all, and Kat gets this priceless look on her face, like, "Is she kidding me with this?" I really hope before this season's over, we get to see Katharine drag Paula out back and just go pillar-to-post with her. Because, seriously, Paula. It's the same shit every week. Some fangirl from the audience screams that Kat's "incredible" and Paula takes it as the bail-out it clearly is, and says "incredible" again, like that's what she meant the whole time.
Katharine says Randy and Paula have been hard on her as of late, which: hush up, girl, for one thing. I know they're dumb, but part of being on the show is dealing with that crap. On the other hand, when you've got two people as content-free as Randy and Paula, I can see how praise and criticism would come off as capricious, and with what you perceive as your future being on the line, that would be annoying as hell. But mostly, yeah, shut up, Kat. A little. Anyway, Paula can't defend herself with words, so she crawls behind Randy, who in turn crawls behind "song choice," which isn't gonna work this time, because, as Kat eagerly points out: SHE DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS EFFING DUMB SONG! ["Seriously, Randy. And I feel like he's said that in past seasons about songs they didn't pick too. Why waste the breath?" -- Jacob] Simon says Randy's being a bit unfair, and this time around, it seems 40% contrarian and 60% genuine. He says apart from a few bum notes, Kat created "a bit of a moment" for herself. Not sure about that, either, but Kat takes it. Ryan takes the stage and is giddy to be able to bag on Randy for disrespecting The Clive, who gets no cutaways during this whole segment, as he prepares to sear Randy's image off of all Journey's old tour photos. The judges do that thing where they all try to get their own material heard over everyone else, and it's depressing, because flea markets are sad enough when you're trying to sell trinkets, much less the lame personalities you've created for yourselves.
up: oh goody. Taylor. Clive chose Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark," because he knows that Taylor likes to show his ass more than anything in the whole world, and what song made the Boss show his ass more than "Dancing in the Dark"? That's a big 0-for-3 for Clive, just as a reminder. Well done, Tutendumben. Though he does give a poignant reading of the lyrics, placing emphasis on the "I'm just tired and bored with myself" line, which is as fitting a Taylor descriptor as I've heard in a bit. Taylor disingenuously thanks Clive for "making a personal call" to Springsteen in order to get permission, and mentions how this is the first time a Springsteen song has appeared on this show. ["Guess that Pete Seeger album isn't selling. On behalf of New Jersey: for shame, Boss." -- Sars] I'm amazed that Taylor's the special one again. He must be pretty awesome to have gotten Clive Davis to go out of his way like that. The band is playing a weirdly synthy arrangement for whatever reason. Taylor brings the Michael MacDonald voice for this song, and of all his celebrity affectations, I think this one works best for him. As you might expect, he's all knees and elbows with the dancing, and he tools around with the finger guns at the "this gun's for hire" part. Then the song breaks into Taylor's cue to run off the stage and act a fool. He runs up to the judges' table, where Paula's already dancing like an idiot, and he takes her hand. Then he runs around to the platform behind the table and pulls Paula up like she's Courteney Cox from the music video we all recall so fondly. Paula's all too happy to oblige. She tries to replicate the Courtney dance, but she's not that good at it. My sister would show her ass up so fast. Then, just as quickly as he arrived, Taylor darts back up to the stage in time for the song to end so he can give the retard grin and do the Soul Patrol arm-pump. I hate him so very, very much. Randy likes how Taylor "know[s] how to have a good time," to which he points to dancing with Paula as an example. Paula then decides to lay it on about an inch too thick, saying she wishes she'd have known Taylor was going to make her dance so she'd have worn double-sided tape on her tits or whatever. And...just like with fake-ass Romijn last week: we're not stupid. If anything truly spontaneous ever happened on this show, we'd know on account of Ryan Seacrest passing out from the vapors. Though I would buy Paula not being able to recall dress rehearsal from the other side of the misty moors of Vicodin. Simon says it was "okay," if a bit "pale by comparison to the original," at which point the crowd boos and Randy joins them. Look, Randy. Be consistent. If you're gonna hold Whitney and Mariah and fucking R. Kelly up on pedestals and say that karaoke versions of their songs are an affront to nature, maybe take a second and realize that saying Taylor Hicks maybe didn't live up to the standard of Bruce Springsteen isn't the fucking worst thing Simon Cowell could say. ["I think you created a moment in your pants!" -- Jacob] Anyway, Paula's already cackling like a literal crazy person, so when Simon compliments on her being a good dancer "for [her] age," she breaks on into the full "drunk, crazy grandma" laugh where it's too much and she hangs on Simon and everyone's uncomfortable, except for Taylor, who thrives off of chaos. Of course, he's still physically incapable of saying anything without adding "Soul Patrol!" It sucks that he thinks his fans are so needy.
Back from the break, Ryan and the judges are in the "Dysfunctional Family" tableau as he explains this second batch of songs have been chosen by the three freaks to him. The song choices were announced during the contestants' visits to their hometowns. First up: Elliott Yamin. On video, the mayor of Richmond reads a letter from Paula Abdul, written in crayon or Drambuie or whatever, which says she's chosen the song "What You Won't Do For Love," by Bobby Caldwell. Which is pretty perfect for Elliott, in terms of what he does well. It's laid back and mellow; doesn't ask him to take a strong lead. Shockingly coherent choice on Paula's part. Ryan asks her to explain her reasoning and Simon grabs her leg under the table, and she squeals, and Ryan gets all hall monitor about it, and I am so very tired of them all. Back to the matter at hand, Paula babbles about how Elliott is full of love and a funky white boy, until eye-on-the-clock Ryan is like, "But why'd you pick the song, Countess Tangentia?" She repeats the words "funky white boy," as if it makes it any more true, or Elliott any less of a stiff. Finally she bails out with, "It suits his voice." Ryan and the viewing audience give that a "sure" and move on.
Elliott takes the stage all scrunched up and sweaty, looking funky, but not in the George Clinton sense of the word. And he sounds like hell, at least by his standards. He's not even singing, more like speak-shouting. This is ugly. He also looks like he's been punched in the face, for some reason. Lucky for him, it's over before it even begins. What the hell was up with that one? I figured if I had to put up with ugly, boring Elliott, at least I'd get a decent voice for my trouble. Randy noticed, and says he was sharp through most of the song. Paula does that thing where she brushes away all thoughts pertaining to what she just saw and talks more nonsense about Elliott piercing to her R&B heart. She is the most worthless human being on the planet (hyperbole?). Simon knocks the song choice, but thought Elliott sang it "pretty good." Oh, Simon. We disagree on quality and grammar? Not a good moment for us. Ryan and hunchy Elliott stand by and plead for votes, before Ryan kicks it to Katharine's video.The mayor of L.A. is with Katharine in some high school gymnasium, and he reads an "email" he received from Simon Cowell. While I certainly appreciate the subtlety in this latest stab at drawing cultural battle lines across the country between Taylor and Kat, I'm not sure if whatever red-state rural poor this show imagines supporting Taylor are quite as ignorant of email as the producers might think. Trust me, the Soul Patrol can work a keyboard. Anyway, Simon has chosen "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," and Katharine's either very happy or good at being fake happy. Call it. I'd say very happy, because even I knew she'd rock this. Simon says from the moment he met Kat, he knew this was the song for her, and he continues to use the word "moment" with regard to her performances. Probably because she's been the one he's wanted to win for a few weeks now and he's just waiting for that one retrospective moment to kick in. Her "Alone" or "Summertime" or whatever.
Randy, you can tell, was not entirely thrilled by the performance. He doesn't have to be; it was pretty average. What he does have to do is complete a damn sentence. He mumbles about Kat not being as great as Ella -- which makes it a good thing this show isn't called Be As Good As Ella Fitzgerald, Assholes -- and then he's almost word-for-word, "blah, blah, blah, I don't know. Paula?" Way to make an effort, Jackson. Paula tells Kat that her "element" is "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Just that one song. Keep singing it over and over and you'll go places, kid! Katharine again sort of rolls her eyes at the non-content, and I sympathize, certainly, but at this point in the season, it's Paula and Randy. Just lie back and think of your mother's funeral. Simon calls her last two performances "five steps forward, one step back," and says the last performance was simply "okay." He wishes Katharine -- and indeed everyone -- could have ended the night on their judges' choice songs, which were everyone's best. As we head to commercial, Taylor's trying desperately to keep his fake energy up for one more round of bullshit.
Back from the break, Ryan and Taylor don't even have time to sit down as Taylor tells us he'll be singing "Try a Little Tenderness" and dedicating it to the Soul Patrol. The who? Anyway, this was the song that supposedly Taylor got cock-blocked from singing a few weeks ago because it wasn't a love song -- WHICH IT'S NOT, so stop sending me letters, Jon Cryer -- so this is going to be viewed as righting a great cosmic wrong or whateverthefuck. Poor Taylor and his never having been in the bottom three. However will he survive?
Admittedly, this is a fucking awesome song, whether you're Ducky or the Commitments or Nadia Turner, so I'm already not going to hate it. But knowing how much bugshit Taylor's going to go is giving me the flu. The weirdest thing is, when the time comes, and he does go bugshit, the bugshit is more of the Carnival Cruise Lines variety. Seriously, it's so cheesy and bad. Taylor's always halfway to lounge lizard anyway, but he really tramples that line tonight. He runs in place for a bit, which is always funny. Then for a second he looks like he's gonna do some equipment damage, rhino-style, but he pulls back. How...deflating. If any song calls for a full-out seizure, it's this one. It's not like I'm going to ever like you, dude. Go nuts. The judges kind of do, with the praise and everything. Randy dubs him "Have a Good Time Funky Taylor." No effing way, dude. Paula says she's been waiting all season for this song, like she has an actual concept of linear time and everything. Simon thought the ending was "hideous," but he's a mortal lock for the finals, so Taylor can go with God. I'm paraphrasing.
Rundown! Elliott making unflattering faces. Then again. Then again. Katharine making unflattering sounds with her voice. Then some good ones. Then some pretty good ones. Taylor doing a laconic Springsteen, an obligatory Cocker, and the three seconds where he actually went nuts during the last song. America, know what you're buying. You're buying schizoaffective rage disorder. I may have made that disease up.
Wednesday
Ryan makes a big show of Ace and Kellie standing to each other in the audience, trying to pretend that the various and disgusting images of Kellie and Constantine together weren't crawling all over the internet like so many crabs. She's cut her hair, by the way, which manages to make her look like Paris Hilton about five years ago. Seacrest tells us that over fifty million votes were cast last night, and that "the word 'close' doesn't even begin to describe the margin between our contestants." He kicks it to the couch where Katharine is enjoying one of her rare moments where she doesn't look like Sigourney Weaver at the end of Alien 3. Ryan talks gender, wondering if the finale will be "boy-girl" (just like Carrie and Bo!) or if Taylor and Elliott will make like Ruben and Clay. ["...But wasn't that one also boy/g-- you know what, never mind. Carry on, Peanut." -- Jacob] Regardless of gender, this shit's ending like Fantasia and Diana, if you ask me. No contest and a boring-ass season, to boot. There are judges. They're all dumb. Randy and Paula act a fool. Nobody's surprised. The footage of "last night" goes on forever, but I just finished recapping it, so: everything that happened last night.Oh God, the pimp-mercial. So, you know how all season every theme has catered to the fact that more than half of the contestants represented some pastiche of old-timey styles? How Paris was Billie Holiday reincarnated, and Taylor was channeling Ray, and Elliott wanted to be Donny Hathaway, and Kat wanted to be Barbra? Well, this pimpmercial pays it off, with our final three dressed up as elderly folks living in a home. They look frighteningly in place. The "joke," is that, even if they're old, they're "rapping." So this is a couple levels of absurd, then. The song is "When You're Young at Heart" from that Bing Crosby movie that's always on TV at Christmas. Kat, it should be mentioned, has a giant ass and a poodle. Taylor has a stupid hat and macks on actual old ladies. ["Yet required no makeup, so you have to give him props for that." -- Jacob] Elliott has a gold chain and a walker. It's "hilarious." The moral at the end, of course, is that Ford motor vehicles make you magically young again. Yeah, it's not gonna be so easy with these three.
Back in the studio, Ryan makes a joke about Simon being Oldy McOldypants, which Simon takes in good humor. The judges giggle about it forever -- seriously, Ryan's like "what's so funny?" and they're all, "That thing you said fifteen minutes ago." Dorks. Then Ryan takes us on this season's first trip back to Fake Last Wednesday, as X-Men 3 stars Hugh Jackman -- who, as always, loses almost all his luster in real life; I have no idea why that happens -- and Rebecca "Studio Marionette" Romijn. No, I haven't forgiven her for last week's bullshit with Taylor. As Rebecca wedges herself between Taylor and Elliott (hey, your funeral, lady), Hugh gets all up in Katharine's zone. They've got special DVD copies of their new movie (which, Brett Ratner or no Brett Ratner, I'm still going to have to see) for each of the Idol kids to watch on their plane rides home. Yes, it's just an excuse for an ad for the movie, but if you think I wouldn't rather watch Famke Janssen and Ian McKellen for thirty seconds than Taylor and Elliott, you're fucking nuts. The final three all give hugely dorky thumbs-up gestures to indicate the quality of the flick. Good for you, studio synergy!
Ryan asks Taylor if he was excited to go see the hometown fans. He was more excited about the hometown food: the ribs and those damn turnip greens he won't shut up about. He says he ate ribs and pancakes for breakfast one day. Which sounds super-gross until I consider that I dined with someone who had baked beans for breakfast a couple weeks ago. Food is food, I guess, no matter the time of day. On to Taylor's trip to Alabama! It should not surprise you that the obnoxious "woo"s flow freely as Taylor embarks upon his trip. The local TV and radio personalities freak out, as their puny lives now have some meaning, bathed as they now are in the warming glow of Taylor Hicks. The TV news proclaims it "Welcome Home Taylor Day," and -- once again, coming as no surprise -- Taylor farts around with the weather forecast. "Oh look, I'm gonna touch the fake graphic of the sun that isn't even there! I'm so wild and unpredictable!" He performs with his band at some outdoor venue or another. He's playing the guitar, and the wank all season has been that Taylor only looks so weird and gross on the Idol stage because he's at a loss as to what to do without a guitar in his hands. Well...still a spasmodic freak here with the guitar, so... Taylor's limo gets a police entourage to some parade, and not content to let the blaring police sirens pull focus from him for one damn second, Taylor mimics the sounds with his trademark "woo"ing. Utterly charming, this one. The parade features, among other things, American flag cut-off t-shirts; groundhogs; pageant queens; lame-ass signage; confetti; no less than two marching bands; and what appears to be the University of Alabama-Birmingham cheerleaders and mascot. The Birmingham mayor gives Taylor a key to the city. It's weird how everyone in Birmingham is white but the mayor. Huh. Some dork kid in the audience has grayed up his hair. There's a huge sign that says "Alabama: Where Idols Are Born." You know, for a state that seems so fixated on the Ten Commandments, you'd think they wouldn't toss the word "Idol" around so loosely. up for Taylor is the city of Hoover, where he went to high school. "Who knows what's ?" asks Taylor. What's is an effing huge -- and hugely crowded -- mall. Looks like the mayor of Hoover gives Taylor a key to his city as well. That should be awkward come New Year's. Then Taylor starts playing and the Hoover mayor gets caught on camera doing some incredibly ill-advised getting down. You know, I've said this before, and Ray Nagin getting re-elected mayor of New Orleans the other day only reminded me of it: there but for the grace of God goes the mayor of your town. Or my town. If your mayor had to get up on a national stage and do anything, from managing a natural disaster to presenting a fake key to an even faker singer, he or she would find a way to embarrass you. They'd talk about mixing dark chocolate with milk to create a delicious racial drink, or they'd do a stiff white-man dance that even Ellen DeGeneres's audience would have to laugh at. There but for the grace of God. Back in the limo, Taylor fake-spontaneously talks about how after playing the show at the mall (like any real rocker), he had to freshen up to meet the Governor. All you need to know is that the Governor of Alabama looks suspiciously like Reagan with a lot of Grecian formula in his hair, while his wife is swimming in a giant pink coat. At a rally on the steps of the mansion, Taylor inducts Gov. Riley and his increasingly scary wife into the Soul Patrol. There is much screaming.
Ryan and Katharine are at center stage now, and he asks her about not having the entire city out to support her (unspoken: like Taylor did; except for all the black people). Kat says it was still nice and she got to see a lot of the fans who she normally doesn't get to see. I think with Katharine being from L.A., the show did they best thing they could do, really. A city that large isn't going to get parochial for one wannabe singer, and certainly not Los Angeles. But a high school might. And a family sure will. And those Good Day assholes will get excited for just about anything. Ryan asks about Kat's ever-present parents, and she's like, "Yeah, they're always here. I never really talk to them? But they're great." Is that spin to separate herself from the stage parent rumors? Is it trying to seem independent and grown-up? Is it honesty? Not likely the latter on this show. Kat's song from the CD is "Think," which is too bad, because she was way better on "Since I Fell For You." She walks the platform behind the judges' table during most of the performance. She sings to Randy. She ignores Paula (awesome). Then she really aggressively name-checks Simon ("You need me, Simon!"), which is funny because he's the only one out of the three who wants her to win. You know who else might want her to win? Todd Bridges, who's in the audience. You know, American Idol, you're the number one show on TV. You can let some of the has-beens toil in obscurity.
After commercials, Elliott sits hunched over on the couch, sweating out what may be his final minutes under the massive heat lamps of national attention. Ryan "casually" mentions that Elliott did a Gavin DeGraw song a few weeks ago, and now Gavin is in our audience, freaking out Jacob with his eyeballs. Back on the couch, Katharine looks mighty star-struck. That's funny. Stevie Wonder makes Elliott cry, but Gavin DeGraw makes Katharine hyperventilate. Ryan asks Elliott about Richmond. He takes forever to answer, composing himself or whatever, and says that nobody in Richmond gets the kind of reception he got. Not even Presidents. He says he felt like the king. Careful, dude. Your underdog appeal is washing off. Ryan makes the obligatory and dumb "It's good to be king" joke, but Elliott's too busy being pre-emotional.
On the videotape, we see Elliott hit Richmond under cover of darkness. He gets off the plane and it looks like he wants to howl at the moon or something. It's all vaguely reminiscent of a horror movie. Hey, so it's "Elliott Yamin Day" in Richmond. Easy on the wild and crazy ideas, Richmond. He's all fidgety in the limo as he heads to the radio station. He keeps doing all these Tom Cruise fist pumps, and the impression given is the very same: your enthusiasm makes me nervous. As Dave Matthews Band's "Two Step" plays in the background, Elliott asks us to smell the sweet Virginia air. I do feel him on that. The distinct smell of someplace familiar. He hits up a huge outdoor rally on a gorgeous afternoon and sings some "Home." Back in the limo, he explains they we're going to meet the Governor now. He really plays the overwhelmed "just folks" thing a whole hell of a lot better than Taylor does, I will say that. Mama Yamin tells the Governor that she voted for him. Aw, I bet she got a kick out of telling him that. up is a parade, during which people freak out for Elliott in a most undignified manner (I've seen it in text form, but never live on camera -- it's just as disturbing). The parade route looks sporadically populated, with Elliott's car sometimes going past before anyone realizes what's going on. I'm thinking this was a pretty poorly planned route, at least in parts. Oh, okay. Most of the people at are the minor league ballpark, where Elliott's going to throw out the first pitch at the Richmond Braves game. Mama Yamin is in the car with her son, and she's crying at the reaction he's getting. She makes me want to like him more than I do. He keeps doing that waving with both hands thing he does, which always makes him look: a) like a little kid, and b) even hunchier than usual. He throws out the first pitch, and it's high, but on target. I don't even want to imagine what my nerves would force me to do if I had to throw out the first pitch at anything.
Back onstage, Elliott is lousy with the tears. Hee. Like the sun rising in the morning. Paula's standing and applauding, her own face looking like the gatekeeper to the city of Oz after he hears Dorothy's story. She's smiling like a crazy person, of course. They need to take that shit on the road. "Paula and Elliott: We'll Cry For You." He tells Ryan he'll be singing his song from the CD, "Moody's Mood For Love." Two very dedicated Yaminions in the crowd scream at the mention. It's definitely a song that shows off his voice well. I think it's a song that played better in the smaller semifinals studio. It doesn't quite get lost in the larger auditorium, but it's not exactly as impressive, I am sad to say. Then again, he seems to be rushing it. He's (shocker) nervous, and I think he wants this to be done with quickly. It is.
After still more commercials, it looks like we're finally at the point where we get to lose one of these jokers. No, wait. First we have to sit through a video package about the one actual success this show's ever had, Kelly Clarkson, and the assorted other pretend pop artists it's spawned. This all serves as an introduction to bring Clive Davis onstage. The final three present him with a plaque commemorating all the millions of albums Kelly has sold that he gets to take credit for. Then Clive talks, and I never feel the need to listen to the President of the Academy when he talks, and what Clive says is no different. He goes through all of Kelly's accomplishments, glomming onto her like any good industry leech. Then, and I swear to God he does this, he brings up's Ruben's "I'm Sorry 2004," one of the most accidentally funny songs of all time. Awesome. He mentions "all the hits" on Fantasia's album, of which I can think of none. Bo and Carrie's records are selling well, Carrie's especially. It's nice to hear and all, but if they're trying to tell us that the show is creating anything but minor pop stars (with one notable exception), they'll have to try harder. More effing commercials. That Over the Hedge movie just looks scary bad.
Finally, it's elimination time. Ryan turns his attention to the couch, where Taylor looks fake sick and the other two are for-real gonna hurl. Ryan asks for the following numbers to be put up on the big screen in a giant font: 33.06%, 33.26%, and 33.68%. That's the distribution of votes. And again, I don't think they can just outright lie about the numbers, so I've got to believe it's true. Whatever fans Elliott and Taylor share went full-bore to Elliott this week, it looks like. And at long last, Taylor's nervous. That's way too close for anyone to feel comfortable. Kat makes a big exhale and grabs for the hands of her cohorts on either side of her. Then Ryan isolates the lowest total: 33.06%. "Whose name goes with that? Who is so close to going on but is going home tonight?" Slow pan across the contestants. Ryan milking it. He's out of commercial breaks, so he's got to reveal it now: the screen reveals the name "Elliott Yamin." Fucking finally. He's already got tears in his eyes, but he'd nodding to Kat and Taylor like it's okay. The McPhees are smiling, which is apparently awful. Can't they put Elliott first, for once? Paula's biting the inside of her lip, either trying to keep from crying or trying to start crying. The crowd stands up for Elliott, though Mama McPhee is still whooping for her kid, as she should be. Elliott's got a third of a nation not only willing but disturbingly eager to cry for him. I think he's covered. Ryan shouts that Taylor and Katharine are your final two. He's still reeling from the numbers. She's just in her giddy, almost-got-eliminated-again phase.
At center stage, Ryan tells Elliott that this is not an "I'm sorry," this is a "congratulations." For real. Dude came way, way, way farther than I ever expected, I'll say that. Elliott says he's very proud and that the show was a great stepping stone for himself. Also: eyebrows, eyebrows, hunch, shuffle, shuffle, lurch. The non-verbals still need work. Ryan once again brings up Mama Yamin, who has lost it in the audience. As I've said, I think she's great, but I also think Ryan fixates maybe a bit too much. Like somebody told him to quit talking about the sweating vis-à-vis Elliott, so he went full-bore into Mom territory. He actually makes her tell him she loves him. Dude, let a mother say it at her own pace. Elliott's "Bad Day" video goes on forever. We learn that part of his progress has come in the field of keeping his eyes open when he sings. He gets the special Sad Boy Remix of the Powter song, like Kellie and Chris before him. Every third clip contains tears. I may be under-reporting that a bit. Simon calls him "potentially the best vocalist" the show's ever had. Paula weeps for him. He sings out with "I Believe To My Soul," and it's not demonstrably different from last night. Paula shakes her ass like a damn fool. He name-checks himself again. It's still annoying. Goodbye, Elliott! Take a good long look at Clay and do everything the opposite!
week: This endless, horrible season will finally be over! I'll be taking the performance show, while Jacob wraps up the season with the results. Should be fun! I'm sorry, I meant "should be filler."