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Tuesday
Theme: Nineties. Simon/Ryan threat matrix: slow boil with scattered slap and tickle. Most irritating six-months-behind audience sign: "Vote 4 Pedro."
Bo sings "Remedy" by my Black Crowes nemesis, giving it sixteen percent while dressed like a gay meth-head swamp dweller. He gives his wide-brimmed cow-print (!) hat to Paula, the better to wear as she slaps her own ass on the dance floor some night soon. Randy loves it, Paula thinks he was awesome, and Simon calls it extreme karaoke.
Jessica sings the boringest, slowest song I've ever heard, by LeAnn Rimes, called "On The Side Of Angels." I can't speak to the singing because it makes me start cleaning my house to stay awake, but she looks great. Randy and Paula hate the song choice, and Simon calls her "unlikable" and doesn't think she's trying hard enough.
Anwar, with R. Kelly's (say it with me) "I Believe I Can Fly." It's not great. What the fuck key is this? Randy hates his lower register, and the first half in particular, and points out how Anwar is all about the last note each week. Paula drunkenly gets hyperbolic, but calls it an original version. True that. Simon agrees with Randy, pointing out how uneven it was, and also how Paula only remembers the latter half of a given song because she's an airhead.
Nadia does Etheridge, meaning I already love it and haven't heard it yet. She looks fantastic, for starters, with the dancing, andâ¦you must be tired of me going on about Nadia, so cross-apply, because this is one of Those Nadia Moments. The only problem is the backup, which is true on every song tonight. Randy calls her a great performer and says she made something of it. Paula loves it "miles better from last week." Simon is nervous that the song might not be impressively melodic enough.
Constantine was totally into grunge once (so that's over, huh?), explaining his choice of Bonnie Raitt's ever so grungy "I Can't Make You Love Me," also the best song ever written. The intentional rock-slurring of sibilants and labials is there, horribly, and the congenital grossness is all over me, butâ¦note-wise, he's brilliant. Vibrato well-employed, pitch excellent, emotion and phrasing passable and smart. I hate him so much, but it's weird, because this isn't just the best thing he's done, it's also -- I hate myself, you guys -- one of the best of the night. Please don't think I like him, I hate him and want to bludgeon him, but if I can say when Ryan's hot, I can sure as hell say when Constantine's okay. Randy loved it because it wasn't all fake like before: "The real guy showed up." Paula calls it his best "male" performance, heh, and Simon says he did better than Bo. I'm not going to agree with him on record. God help me.
Nikko sings, badly to start, while well-dressed and dancing watchably, "Can We Talk?" by fondly-remembered T.E.V.I.N. (I assume written by Babyface), but gets there as usual. He looks so cute, if asexual as ever. Randy gives accolades up out the joint, and he and Paula are terribly proud of him. Me too. Simon calls it an imitation of the original, which honestly is a diss on the extremely dated accompaniment more than anything.
A-Fed sings "Something About The Way You Look Tonight," by Elton John, which is in large part about how the eponymous "something" takes his "breath away," which is just asking for it. Randy notes the sexy change in look and calls it "all right," Paula thinks he did a great job, Simon is frustrated because certain parts were "excruciating." Yes.
Carrie sings Martina McBride's "Independence Day," which is the usual Oprah-Book-Club subject matter, like, just how many times can people get raped, domestic violenced, or otherwise done wrong in a country song? Little fake Hallmark cards of adversity. Great vocal, though. Randy and Paula agree, while Simon just tells her how freaking wonderful and "It Factor" and superstariffic she is. Again.
Scott sings, wonderfully -- and looking more presentable, although still creepy as hell -- "One Last Cry" by Brian McKnight, and man. He does vocal tricks he simply should not be able to do. Vocally I think it might be the best of the night: the effortlessness is back this week, which it hasn't been the last few weeks. He's been awesome, but not this freak-show note-perfect no-alterations fantastic in a while, and it's lovely. It is what he needed to do. Randy's not into it, so much, and calls it pitchy, Paula is drunk and "vibing it," and Simon tells him some shit that isn't true.
Vonzell sings "I Have Nothing," looking fantastic and curvy in a dress that shouldn't work -- one of those gathered-at-the-knee mermaid prom deals -- and hitting every note. She's not Nikko, recreating it from scratch, so it's kind of karaoke, but it's good. Randy calls it a little sharp, okay given the difficulty of the song, and says the girls are on fire tonight. Paula notes she was singing higher than Whitney herself, and thinks it was a top performance of the night. Simon said he would have thought three weeks ago that attempting Whitney was dumb, but he loved it.
Review: Bo was bored and working it, Jessica bored the fuck out of me, Anwar may or may not have entertained dogs across the country, Nadia was subdued and wonderful to watch, Constantine had a new eyelid tic and still keeps trying to fuck me, Nikko was awesome, A-Fed was harsh to listen to, Carrie sang a Carrie song just like Carrie, Scott was more awesome than he has been in weeks, and Vonzell was unmemorably great. Final tableau: Nadia, of course, and Constantine. Ugh, too confusing. See you tonight.
Wednesday
Somebody screwed up, that's all I want to say. And I think it's Jessica. And I agree with that, even as I'm crying. Well, not crying. Making fists and yelling a whole lot. Anyway: Ryan starts with telling us how this is the most votes ever received for a non-finals show. Wow. He's also wearing a big-boy suit that makes his big-boy outfits look positively little-boy.
Carrie was awesome singing a country song about beatings, Bo was awesome singing a country song about drugs (one presumes), and Constantine sang a non-country song by quasi-country singer Bonnie Raitt, about how I will always, always hate him no matter how good he gets. Nadia sang woman-centric quasi-country with a fair amount of respeito, and was justly lauded although not so much voted for, Nikko went absolutely and adorably insane working a T.E.V.I.N. song, Anwar was looking for man-love of a personal type while singing like ass, and Scott was -- you guys were right, he was horrible, I don't know what I was thinking. Sometimes my crack is cut with some kind of industrial cleaner. Jessica bored the shit out of me for the first and last time, and little Anthony grew a whole lot up in a very short time.
Scott's vibrato, Vonzell's pitch, Nadia and Bo's respective registers, Nikko's relative volume, everybody's ability to sing in unison, Constantine's kicking, and Anwar's singing pretty all get out of control and suffer horribly in the last Tsunami Tsingle, "Everything Is Beautiful." And while the lyrics would have you think it's about how Scott's not vomitously unattractive, you know, he's not, really. Jessica is of course awesome, although not the kind of awesome we vote for, apparently, and Carrie is awesome and sounds great and like she has a soul, Anthony is great and doing all the Anthony stuff while wearing a great voice, not to mention maybe the best and most flattering outfit in the history of AI couture not worn by a host or judge.
There's an amazingly, unbearably, terrifically, monstrously, stupidly, awesomely awful pimpomercial where the Idols are played by human-sized muppets made up to look like them. It's like Power Rangers where the real people weren't available. I miss the tiny morning Idols of last week, that's how terrible it is. They're also singing the "Peace Like That" song I never liked. And they are muppets, did I mention that?
Nikko and Constantine are safe, and I can't blame anyone for that. Carrie gave the usual perfect wonderful unfaultable saleable marketable performance and is not only safe but the winner of the whole deal I guess. Bo phoned it in, but is still safe because he's better cold than most of them on their best days. Nadia was great to watch, but bottom three according to Simon and the voters, and the answer to "Is this because Etheridge is a lesbian?" is a resounding and troubling and hideous "Yes." Jessica is the second of the bottom three, because she sang the most boring song in the world. Scott sounded like crap, turns out, but is safe nonetheless because of all the hideous and poorly-mannered people voting for him in some state somewhere. Anwar sounded like shit, Vonzell was awesome and somehow managed to be just enough karaoke that it was pleasant, and A-Fed sounded itchy and crappy, but is all of a sudden a man so I gotta deal with that.
Anthony's safe, and Anwar justly ends up in the bottom three, so Vonzell's okay. So now we have the three best people, technically, less Bo, in the bottom three. They all had a bad night, y'all. Simon thinks that Scott should be there -- based on last night -- instead of Nadia. Jessica is shocked to be there. I'm shocked to see here there, but that's just because my memory is longer than Paula's. Nadia goes back to Suffragette City, leaving (I told you!) the hand-holding duo of Jessica and Anwar. You guys, she was boring, but good. He's always boring, and wasn't good. So if we're in this Bizarro world where these three should be in the bottom three while Constantine roams the streets, you might as well send Anwar home. Now that the gay personals ad thing has gone global, he's gone anyway. Because we live in the Middle Ages all of a sudden.
Randy's horrified and blames Simon obliquely, Paula agrees that the audience and Cowell have privileged this whole "likeability" thing over the actual singing, and exhorts people to call for their favorites. Then Jessica goes home and Anwar is safe.
Which is retarded. Fucking retarded. None of those people should be in the bottom three.
You vote the Idol you deserve, America. Suck on it. I can't believe this show has got me in its velvet clutches again, to where I actually care, but like Ryan's torn up about it, I'm disgusted, and the video journey is rough to watch; it's all happening. Luckily, we have the incredibly boring song of Jessica to lull us into a sleepy kind of calm.
I don't even know what to tell you. Sickening. But this is about votes, and about who America wants, and I think I came to terms with the fact that I am not really in line with that, like, somewhere around junior high, so whatever. Of course she's total class the whole time, and beautiful, and I can't wait to buy her album.
Thread title Runners-Up to be heavily featured in this week's recap, mixed in somewhere with the crotchety bitching and incomprehensible profanity. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Right. So I'm just watching Gilmore Girls, minding my own business, and I've seen the episode before and it's not my own personal favorite, but whatever. I'm doing dishes and laundry and the soothing dulcet tones of that show's word gun, pointed directly at my head and firing away, always chills me out, because it reminds me of home. Then the phone rings.
Anna: What the fuck is going on here?
Jacob: While I agree that the "Emily sees a dog in the yard" storyline is not the most heart-stopping, I certain don't think it's worthy of vulgarity. So you must be talking about Idol, right? And that means…oh, crap. What's he singing?
Anna: Just...I can't…I need a hug. Or some tortilla soup.
So began my experience of tonight's episode. I watched about five seconds, ordered my own hug and soup, and turned back to Gilmore, because I'm already going to have to watch this episode like a hundred times anyway, so why half-ass it? No reason to do so. But ever since then, I've been worried and waiting for it to come up and jump me in the ass, so I figure, let's face some fears, shall we?
Tuesday
Ryan's wearing a crazy shirt and jacket, and cute jeans, while Paula is dressed like the daughter-in-law on Mama's Family. But what is the theme? Let's travel in time together, shall we, to last Wednesday. If you get thirsty on the trip, don't worry, because they have a bunch of this certain cola there, on Wednesday. And Ryan is dicking them around with some self-styled "cryptic clues":
Ryan: In this decade, Donna Summer got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Carrie: Who's Donna Summer?
Anwar: Girl, please. [Smacks Carrie with puppy.]
Nadia: Give me something else.
Ryan: Geri Halliwell quit the Spice Girls group also, in this decade.
Nadia: The nineties.
Constantine: It's gotta be the nineties.
Nadia: Bitch, I just said that. [Smacks Constantine with Nikko.]
Ryan: I was going to give you the one about O.J., but I figured that would be a dead giveaway.
All white contestants except Scott: [Laugh uproariously.]
God. Anyway, the theme is "The Nineties," so Bo's going to sing the goddamned Black Crowes, but I don't blame him; they're a total Bo Band. Bo, by the way, does not remember the nineties, because he was busy touring with his band. Because he's old. Old, y'all. Not to mention the fact that he was totally baked during most of that time. Now, you know I hate the Black Crowes, but I don't mind this song all that much. I wish he'd picked the theme song from Pete and Pete, though. That's Bo music too, right? The cute beard guy from last year -- Matt something? -- is sitting behind the judges, and he totally loves this, because in his head, he's Bo too. Meanwhile, Bo could not be more bored with all of this. He's wearing a drunk pledge's cow-print cowboy hat, with a super floppy brim so he looks even more like a swamp person, which he gives to Paula, who tonight and forever is that self-same drunk pledge, so she can wear it time she's spanking her own ass on a dance floor somewhere.
I know that your hands are full enough, what with having to watch this show eleven hours a week, and then dealing with all the third-party reports and talk show appearances and local news spots highlighting your local Idols, so I don't want to keep telling you what to watch. But now whenever I see Bo, I think "Bice, Bice, Baby," thanks to SnippyScholar, which makes me think of the David Bowie song "Under Pressure," of course, which leads directly to Nip/Tuck normally, but this week leads to Eyes, the new Tim Daly/Laura Leighton show, and I need you to know that that show is freaking awesome. Where did ABC come from all of a sudden? I haven't been this impressed with a pilot since…well, Grey's Anatomy, a couple of days ago. TV just got a lot harder to navigate.
Speaking of Honorable Mentions in the "Name the Contestant Thread" contest we've been running in the forums, thanks to katiedid for "Bo Knows: How To Make Kool-Aid" and "Bo 'Gee My Hair Smells Terrific' Bice," two of my favorite entries. He really looks nuts, and he's not so much giving it his all, so altogether this is not the best Bo's ever been. Maybe the worst, actually. The backup band is sounding very karaoke, even though you can see them clearly trying their best -- I think it's just that they are not prepared to rock quite as much as Bo is prepared to rock, which is in itself not as much as he is usually prepared to rock, so he's having to dip down into a lower register of rocking -- he seems tired, run-down. I don't know. This is his least intriguing or enjoyable performance to date. Maybe he's just had to sing this damn song too many times and can't even see his way to really living through this again. I'm already tired of this song after thirty seconds and it's been like ten years since the last time I heard it.
Paula swings the hat around in the air dangerously, and Randy and Bo giggle at each other. Bo makes a joke about how he's "mooved," which he has to explain to Randy, and thus cracks himself up. Oh, Bo. Luckily, it's adorable and he even pulls off the smile this one time. Randy would like to see him win -- well, what he said was "a rocker," but Bo's the only one we have of those -- and Paula drunkenly discusses the hat with herself for awhile, almost falls out of her chair, and finally tells him he did an awesome job, like as an afterthought. Simon didn't like the song, but nobody likes that song, so Randy has to get the crowd to boo at Simon. Paula frames her mouth with her hands to boo, but then forgets to boo and starts clapping instead. Simon calls it a wedding performance, and Ryan likes how he shook his ass in Simon's face. Sigh.
Up is Jessica "Let's Hear it For the Boys" Sierra (tm ld1), singing "On The Side Of Angels" by LeAnn Rimes, after telling a story about how in the nineties she got to go to a Dixie Chicks concert and freaked out about how she wanted to be a rock star. How will she go about bringing this to reality? By singing the most boring song I've ever heard. I checked out the lyrics, and it's very like…you know "More Than Words"? And how that song basically amounts to "Shut the hell up and do me"? That's kind of how this song goes, only instead of love, what this song wants you to shut up about is, I think, the Lord. Which is very John Donne, in a way. Like "From a Passionate Shepherd to His Youth Group Leader." So if you read the lyrics and think about God v. Love v. Sex stuff, I guess it's interesting, but going in your ear? Not as interesting as any of those things.
I'm so bored. Runners-up in the Jessica thread title contest were fun and difficult to choose, but I really enjoyed TrueBlue's "Wanna Neck?" and ferretrick's "Total Eclipse By The Boobs." Probably my personal favorites were aquaz1's "Total Eclipse of the Neck," which combined the grace and beauty of the two above, and amityisland's "Vote Or My Grandmother Will Shoot!" because it's probably true. Ugh, she's still not done. I'm sitting right on the edge of my coma.
Randy smiles vacantly -- he has lovely teeth, does he not? -- and calls her a contender, even though he wasn't feeling it. Paula feels like it didn't showcase her amazing voice, and was disappointed after the amazing blowout last week. Simon says she's lacking the "likeability factor" of some of the other contestants, and she seems to find that difficult to deal with; this is understandable, since it's like the worst possible thing you could ever say to a person. He calls her song choice forgettable, admitting that she sang it well, but tries to explain that she has to work harder than the others to overcome her unlikeability. Everybody boos but, like, I hated her until the finals, remember. On the other hand, after turning in her wonderful and solid performances week after week, I don't really see it as an issue. She's become one of my favorites, despite this incredibly boring song she's just put all up in my grill. I'm sleeeeping, Jessica. No me moleeeeeeestas.
Anwar "If You Cut Me, Do I Not Bleed Puppies?" Robinson (tm Cuckoo) is up , singing…an R. Kelly song? I love R. Kelly; musically, I think he's like the Prince of disposable hip-hop pop, and anyone who knows me will tell you that "Feelin' On Your Booty" is one of my favorite songs of all time, but you know, I have no illusions about R. Kelly. He likes to pee on little kids and then fuck them, and tape the whole thing. Which makes him both a fuckface and pretty much all-around bad news. Especially if you, like Anwar "No Glory Note Left Behind" Robinson (AgentX), are a grade-school teacher. I know I go on and on about how smart Anwar is, and he is, but dude.
Oh, man. I just had a horrible thought. This is Anwar we're talking about. And there's only one R. Kelly song I can think of him singing. And if he sings it, I will go insane, because he might as well have co-written it, and that's too much Anwar in one place. That's a dirty bomb of Anwar right there. I have a bad feeling about this, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I'm…yep. After an intro about this one time in the nineties where Anwar almost got to sing for Bill Clinton's first inaugural parade, but then...didn't…he starts into it. "I Believe I Can Fly." God.
I'm certainly not listening to this song, so I will first tell you that my favorite runners-up in Anwar's thread competition were VeeJay's "All's Unfair In Love Anwar" and ToneDefJeff's "The Importance of Being Anwar Robinson," which is brilliant. And…he's still singing, so I will take this time to tell you about how there were two scandals this week, instead of the usual one and a half. The first one was about Anwar and his dating profile on a popular website, and his particular preferences, as far as dating, and there is absolutely nothing shocking about any of the things on this profile, which I have seen, except maybe that Anwar is not a vegetarian, and no, that's not code for anything. I've let my past experience with earnest and caring people of the Anwar type be my guide so far, I assumed he was not a meat-eater. Not that you can't be a vegetarian and a hard-ass, I hasten to point out -- all Anwars are vegetarians but not all vegetarians are Anwars -- or gay and a hard-ass, for that matter, but he's…no hard-ass.
Anyhow, I cannot hazard a guess as to what the outcome of this particular scandal will be, except that the profile in question was gone so fucking fast I couldn't believe it -- like, literally in the time it took me to email the URL to Anna, it was gone -- but I can point out that it's stupid if it's an issue at all, because he clearly likes guys and always has, but I have no illusions about the country we live in, nor do I have illusions about this show's producers, so whatever it is I'm sure it'll be ugly. We'll see. I think the gayitude of Anwar is awesome because he's the very best field rep the gays have on TV right now, but you know, there hasn't been one episode this season that hasn't freaked me and my civil liberties out in one way or another, so I'm sure they're looking forward to doing just the most insane thing possible to further piss me off. Considering scandal number two of the week, I'm sure it'll be disgusting.
Randy's in calling-you-out mode tonight, deliciously, so he tells Anwar -- of whom, he hastens to point out, he's a fan -- that his lower register is pitchy and that he utterly relies on the big notes at the end of every song and is lazy towards the beginning. Word to the gazillionth. Paula drunkenly slurs something about how she's known Randy since before Oxycontin was even invented, but has never heard such an incredibly, original rendition of the song, which she hated until just now this very second, and adds a very disagreeable "amen and God bless you" to somebody or another. Simon hates to say it, but completely agrees with Randy, because the problem is how the first half of every song is sucky and then the end is awesome. The people behind the judges all look disgusted and Paula wigs because, as I've said before, she can't remember back that far. Making Anwar her ideal contestant. Ryan calls the song "inspirational" because he too knows he could fly, if he could just think a happy thought or two.
Nadia went through…a lot of hair changes in the nineties. I think it's a metaphor or something? First she was a Dolphins cheerleader with bone-straight hair, and looked totally boring, then she cut it all off and turned into Skin from Skunk Anansie, and now has the most amazingly responsive and agreeable hair in the biz.
Sometime after the nineties, ld1 came up with Nadia "I've Never Heard This Song Before!" Turner, and katiedid went straight for the gold with a simple and succinct "Nadia Turner Overdrive." Other runners-up included SnippyScholar and Gimme Cat, with "God's Got Her Back, But We're Not Sure About the Hair," the very productive Purplish for "Nadia 'We Never Do Anything Nice & Easy' Turner," and Yes I am a for "What's Range Got to Do, Got To Do With It?" Brilliant submissions from all quarters on this one, as well. The best suggestions all came for the people you'd think: Nadia, Constantine, Carrie, Mikalah. Janay got like three. I mean, they were all very good, and I'm saving them for later, but it's not surprising or anything that everyone on the boards didn't immediately get creative about it.
Nadia's singing "I'm The Only One," by Melissa Etheridge, tonight. And of course she sounds great, if a little distracted. At least she's making a minimum of those faces she makes, and every time she makes one she immediately stops and smiles all pretty to make up for it. Her voice sounds really great, of course, and the stage business is awesome, and you know, she's just great. I love watching her. This song is perfect for her voice, not least because Melissa has no range either and writes her own songs. I think I'm immune to arrogance of the Nadia type. I need you to show, not tell, me how awesome you think you are. I'm telling you this lest you to think that I'm so unobservant as to be indifferent to the cloud of respeito that hangs around Nadia like her nimbus of lovely hair. Guys, I see it, and honestly? I don't care. She backs it up, in my opinion, given that this show is becoming more of a joke with every week that goes by, and by all rights she is better than what's going on around her. But most importantly, she never, ever says it out loud. That's why I let Nadia go with a warning each week but can barely even watch The Amazing Race this season. Can you imagine if Constantine or Nadia told the judges shit like "Sometimes I even surprise myself?" Pandemonium.
Randy calls her "not the greatest singer" but a really great performer, and says she made something of the song. He liked it. Paula Paulas that it's "miles better" than last week and celebrates that Nadia's back. Simon calls it a "thousand percent improvement over the horror we saw last week." However, he's nervous about the song -- although the performance was great -- because he thinks that the song may leave the crowd cold, because it is not a great melodic song. I don't remember this, but some people have mentioned that Kimberly Caldwell, who gives off at least as much of a lesbian vibe as Nadia herself does, got the Simon treatment for singing this song because of the lesbian thing of Melissa Etheridge. I wonder if he's saying the same thing but toned down? Anyhow, Ryan congratulates her on bouncing back from the bottom three -- for a sec -- and then she waves crazily to her buddies in the audience as we get video of the person.
Constantine was obsessed with grunge, of course. Back in the nineties, I mean. Glad he's over that. Grunge is over, right? So take a shower. As if to prove that he's over the music if not the hygiene ethic of grunge, he sings…I can't believe what I'm hearing, but the song starts with some pretty distinctive broken chords, so…yeah, it's "I Can't Make You Love Me," perhaps the most perfect song of all time, by Bonnie Raitt. Man. I am angry before this shit even starts. He begins seated and pensive, staring directly into your soul with his very dramatic eyeballs twitching. He runs the Angela Chase fingers through his teenage girl tresses again, and then some kind of tic happens in his left eye where he looks like he's stroking out. Anna's convinced this is on purpose because he thought it somehow made him look more sincere or something, which I totally buy because it's him, but I can't even consider any of this because it so totally looks like he's about to pass out. He stands up just in time to miss his lower register by like a fifth, and then he's making all these fuck-me faces with one leg up like he's just clubbed and killed the Seal, and…he's very rubber-faced. It's all over the place. It's gross. He "feels the power," in particular, quite fiercely. It's really creepily aggressive and crazy and theatrical.
If he weren't on a stage, I guarantee you'd be so upset right now. Like, imagine if he were singing this way to you in the caf in some kind of crazy dramatic love maneuver. Say you're fairly-to-very popular, and you know very well that he is in scary stupid love with you, but you've tried to be nice, and now here comes fat stupid Constantine with his gross dirty hair and he's going to sing to you about how he can't make you love him. Where do your eyes go? Do you laugh? Cry? Look panicked at your friends? Flee? No, you're nice, so you have to sit there and look somehow both touched and resolute at the same time. And he hands you a rose towards the end, and it's like mashed up because he had it in his book bag, and you have to act like it's the most perfect rose of all time, while still maintaining a no-nonsense aura of not being open to dating him. And the song won't end, and his feelings are so deep and impressive and amazing that his face is doing all this scary unintended shit, and all around you people are making these school shooting faces like they can't believe what's happening and have been paralyzed by fear and shame. Even the lunch ladies are like, "I knew he was erratic and a drama queen, but damn."
And in the movie of your life, this would be where the cute Australian transfer would wander in and take your hand and Constantine would realize that you're taken and make a graceful exit, but no, because we're all trapped in his movie, and it's totally indie and slow-motion right now, and nobody can move, and he's trying to reach inside your head with this creepy unwavering stare and force you to love him through the power of song. The electric passion running through his veins is so intense that his eyes keep rolling around in their sockets and sometimes he makes a fierce, mean, bitey kind of face, because that's just how intense this is, baby. This thing between you and Constantine. Welcome to your hell and mine.
But here's the thing: if you don't look? It's awesome. Dammit. I was thinking that having Constantine sing one of my favorite songs would result in some kind of point for me where I could talk about how bad it was, but no. It is awesome to listen to. So in order to facilitate not having to look at his horrible ass, here's a list of the Honorable Mentions in the Constantine thread title category:
jennifuh for "Constantine Maroulis: Isn't He Ironic?"
katiedid for "I Hate You...And I Hate Your Ass Chin!" and "I Pretend I'm Too Cool For This Thread, And Yet Here I Am"
Yes I am a for "Constantine Maroulis: Rocks in His Head"
happycamper for "When Rock Jumped The Shark"
spoonofchoice for "Constantine Maroulis: In Excess" and "His Scarf, It Was Apricot"
rondo1974: "Don't Stand So Close To Me"
msmoz: "Constantine Maroulis: G(r)eek Tragedy"
TrueBlue for "The Not-So-Great Unwashed"
pixiechic with "Constantine 'Poseur Says What?' Maroulis," and
Argillus, for the very excellent "Smells like Constantine Spirit" and "It's Because He's a Thespian."
There's this undertaker guy in the audience that's like his brother or something, and you can see the resemblance, which is located in the creepy. He's good-looking in the same way as Constantine, only more so, but is creepy in exactly the same way, and amount, as his brother. Randy tells Constantine he's theatre, not rock, after all. He says that "the real guy showed up" tonight. Didn't we explore this avenue last week, when Paula explained it all to us in her special way of getting the point across without using her words to communicate? Don't we all live there now? He's a joke and this show is a joke and he's a music theatre guy who can't focus long enough to figure out thing one about himself? Randy's been thinking, a little. Paula also loves the song, and his performance, and calls it "his best male vocal performance." Creepy Brother smiles at this because it kind of implies both that Constantine is otherly gendered, and also that Paula's totally high. She says he's "creeping…up…into the favorites," taking what was once one of three or four sentences and through the power of enjambment bringing all of them together in an image buffet.
Simon thinks he was better than Bo, and God help me but I agree. All Bo had was us getting to look at him, whereas that was all we had to ignore with Constantine, and this being a singing competition…I feel like a total traitor, dude. Carrie's growing on me too. But it's like I thought: if Constantine could limit his lack of affect to a smaller circle of gross meaningless references and keep his shit in one place that was not a rock place, he'd be at least 65% better off, and this is what he has done. So now a paper bag over the head and some pants that fit right, and we'll have a viable Idol. Sing some, like, Blue October or Killers and really work that weird bi-curious vibe , is my advice. Simon calls him a "classic pop star" tonight, and I get what he means, but then Simon appeals really vaguely to Constantine's "target audience" and how he played to them tonight, and I used to think I knew who that was. I guess it's still little girls who are scared of actual men. Constantine gives one honest smile, and then it's back to the bullshit, and he once more does the "call me" crap. I hate him so much. I wish this show were taking place in the days of radio, so I didn't have to hate him. Back when the site was called "Mighty Big Broadsheet."
Nikko "Ozzie? Ozzie who? I am in no way affiliated with anyone named Ozzie" Smith (tm Thegirliscrazy) finally admits that he has a dad, and that this dad is famous, and talks about a very emotional time in 1996 when Ozzie retired from the Cardinals and was given a big celebration in the stadium, because he'd "never really seen" his dad cry before. Aww. He's got all his physical moves planned out tonight, and it's nice. Professional and very fun to watch. He's singing "Can We Talk?" by T.E.V.I.N., written I think by Babyface. You know I love my T.E.V.I.N.
Also, though, this new young fresh Nikko. So much. He looks totally cute with his moves and his songs and his sincerity…it's great. The backup band contributes to the dating of this dated song, with all these Sade-esque bong-bonk sounds, but I love it anyhow. I am always hit in the face with a brick of nostalgia each week when the Nikko Effect takes some song I barely remember and makes it into art. He's one thousand times better dressed like a guy, instead of like my grandfather. And his great moves don't interfere with his great voice either, like some people, Nadia. Great performance. I love R&B like this. I like soft hits, and I like slow jams. I wish someone would sing the "Tender Roni" song.
The judges are mostly boring, so here's a few Honorable Mentions: windmills went there with "Nikko Smith: Backflipping into the Competition," Zsus gave us "The Artist Formally Known as Osbourne," and jennifuh came up with a personal favorite, Nikko "Don't Call It A Comeback" Smith. Hee! They should just let my forum posters judge this thing. I know they drink enough. Anyway, Randy calls it "incredible" and tells Nikko he "blew it out" tonight. Paula is made proud to be sitting where she's sitting tonight, or something, and thinks he "did another consecutive great week." Simon thinks he's a "breath of fresh air" but somehow thinks it's a compliment to call this "quite a good copy of the original." And compared to the weeks of the Nikko Effect, this sounded quite a bit more dated, but I still think that's due to the arrangement more than anything. "We're over your Casio presets! I'm talking to you, The Nineties!"
Anthony Fedorov ("The Polar Bear with Latin Flair Can Breathe Air from a Hole Right There," per twotrey) loves the nineties because…he came to America in 1994. I can't argue with that. He was like five in 1990, so I don't guess a lot of things would make quite the impact of moving to the most sensation-packed world this side of urban Tokyo. "Everything looked different," the cars and street signs and people, and he just wanted to be a part of it. Anthony just wanted to be part of that seething, mad mess they call America. How Kavalier & Clay. I like that. Especially because I too would rather have him here than back in that seething, mad mess they call the former Soviet republics.
A-Fed's wearing this silly green shirt with weirdly-grouped buttons that would probably look great -- it fits him really, really well -- but the color is just remarkably hideous. His hair is…we've got to do something about that, people. The weight lines are growing out weirdly on the sides and it looks very Blind Supercuts. ("They said she'd never get her cosmetician's license back after being blinded in a routine walk-in, but she's out to prove them wrong!") Why would they want him to look bad? It's all he's got going for him! Nobody but me likes his voice, and tonight even I can't enjoy it. It's "Something About The Way You Look Tonight," okay, which is smurfy anyway, but the arrangement is sort of, like, rollicking, while still totally boring, so you can't even groove to it as a generic Elton song, and he's belting his tiny ass off, and the general effect is that of being yelled at by my tiny blond dad for dressing slutty on my way out the door to Let's Bolt. It's startling and not fun. And I'm kind of pissed because I'm too classy to howl at the fact that one of the repeated lines in the song is about how something about the way you look tonight "takes my breath away."
The belting is harder to take, also, without the glasses. Elton John carries this off because he's kind of internal as a performer, really -- I think he's always hid behind the props and wigs and glasses and shoes so we wouldn't see him -- so when this belting and yelling comes out of him, it's just like he's on a fire escape somewhere with his feelings all over the place, instead of this…shouting at me. Anthony also looks really old, without the glasses, which is nice in some ways because it's closer to the real, which is that he's a totally popular hottie, but also confirms my early belief that those would be coming off right around this round to increase his support. It's just fine, you guys: the song, the performance. He's…whatever, he's Anthony. I'm not complaining. He's a nice boy and about five minutes from smokin' hot and a sweet little pumpkin with the power to level buildings using only his voice. The song is just…there, sitting in your face and staring up at you like, "What are you going to do with me?" Here are some of the other excellent and sometimes disturbing Runners-Up for the A-Fed Thred:
Kalai: "Brought To You Through The Power Of MAGIC!" and "Alive! Singing! In English! Anthony! Fedorov!"
BarbC: Anthony "I Can't Believe I Survived Another Week After That" Fedorov
spoonofchoice: "Anthony Fedorov: Foreigner"
Miss Aquarius: "Hey, Who Put Diet Clay In My Capri Sun?"
Argillus for "If You Look Closely Enough, It Winks"
ChunkeeMunkee: "Anthony Fedorov: It's a Cut-Throat Competition"
spoonofchoice: "Anthony Fedorov: The People Seem To Like This"
Emperor Penguin: "Trach My Breath Away," and
dolcepienza: "All he Needs is the Air That he Breathes."
Hee! Randy says, "Innocent Anthony's kind of grown up now," and I agree with that, in terms of the spirit behind it rather than the nasty way it comes out (which is in all honestly probably my problem and not Randy's). Randy then calls the performance a'ight five times in row while barely changing his tone or inflection. And I've gotta say, I agree with that too. Experientially, that's maybe the perfect way to describe it: all right. All right. All right. All right. All right. That's how it was! Paula basically says the same thing, only slurring it; she thinks he did a "great job," and gives him a drunken "Good for you!" Which is like the first thing you always want to say to Anthony: "Good job, buddy!"
Simon wants to be nice, because he likes Anthony -- Five Point Palm Exploding-Heart Technique! -- but feels that in parts, it was "absolutely excruciating." Paula wonders which parts, considering Anthony's one of the few people who sounds exactly the same the whole time, every time, and Simon goes to the hyperbolic limit where she normally makes her home: "Beginning, middle and end." Everybody goes wild because that's just kind of dumb, and Paula calls him "insane," which coming from her literally means less than nothing. Simon goes on some kind of "We saw 100,000 people for this competition!" and they fight about how he deserves to be there, which, like, I kind of agree that he seems kind of out of his little league based solely on that performance
Carrie "Ruxpin" Underwood (tm baby pickles) had her first date at 16 (blink blink smile) and down in the parlor (cock head to the side and blink) Daddy was cleaning his shotguns (roll eyes, blink, and wrinkle nose) and her mom yelled at him (blink smile blink) and then the guy never asked her out again. I'd call bullshit on this incredibly cornpone story, but the sad thing is that I totally, utterly believe it. And that's the saddest thing about the show, tonight. One thing you learn with age is to never doubt people's ability to fulfill the stereotype that they are. "Clichéd until proven interesting" is my rule of thumb, especially with someone so clearly devoid of that thing, that spark that comes with a rich inner life. She actually is a Christopher Guest character, and she's happy that way.
So she's going to be singing "Independence Day," by Martina McBride, again. Making I think Scott Savol the only person not to attempt this song this season. Ironically enough. Martina McBride is utterly unafraid to bring the real issues confronting us today to the table. We don't get the whole song, but apparently Easter is in July the particular year the story takes place. Way to edit out the entire narrative, arrangers. The song goes like this: Daddy's beating Momma, so the narrator went to the fair. I don't know the rest of the story. I imagine it involves the KKK and barbecuing the offender and becoming a lesbian and a bunch of "Tawonda!" or something. It's "Choose Your Own White Trash Adventure" Week when the story is chopped up like that. If I never hear this song again, I won't care, because it's not that memorable and trades on some cheap damn emotion. And I can't even say "at least it's not all 'America, Fuck Yeah!'" because there's all this Fourth of July crap mixed in. Everything I hate about country and victim stories and…you guys, I have been Oprah Book Clubbed to death by country this year. And I'm sure someone will write a country song about that and the Dixie Chicks will have to poison Oprah to avenge me.
Again, the backup singers are in total service to her, but not as blatantly as last week. She sounds fucking great on her own, too, and she's wearing multiple sashes all over her body, which makes her interesting as well as lovely to look at, but she won't stop singing, so here's a list of Honorable Mentions:
Cuckoo: "Carrie Underwood: Pretty Vacant"
GrammaK: "Carrie 'Is It True Blands Have More Fun?' Underwood"
Mrs. Muir: "Carrie Underwood: Her Love Is Real, But She Is Not"
Kiera123: "Carrie Underwood: Seasonings Not Included"
badge9: "What's Life Got to Do With It: Carrie Underwood"
AlexDS69: "Carrie Underwood: You Know The Bitch Is Going To Win."
Randy calls it "the best vocal of the night," and I think it's definitely in the running. Paula calls her "really natural," which wouldn't be half the compliment it is if it weren't for the fact that she's talking to Carrie, and then admits that she loves when Carrie sings country songs, apparently forgetting that she's only not done so once, and was totally, objectively awesome when she did that, too. Paula simply does not have the capacity for complimenting people correctly. I bet her mother was really critical or something, because every time she tries to be nice she implies something really shitty, like now all of a sudden she hated the Heart song and is glad to have Carrie back, when I know she means nothing of the sort. Then Simon soils his no-doubt very weird underwear, going on and on about how awesome she is. Shut it, Simon. You're ticking me off tonight. Like, yeah, she was awesome, and she's always awesome, but the more you praise her the more I have to take a hard look at her downside, which is that she's utterly creepy in a JonBenet way, and you're coming off like a Showdog Mom and Dad when you do this. Ryan and Carrie then hop around dorkily, and you can tell she really likes him, because like the scientists who created her and the handlers that make sure her coat remains glossy, he's sweet and caring in a professional and businesslike manner.
Scott is a fucker and I hate him.
I'll tell you about the singing, because it's my job, but first I feel it's my duty to direct you to The Smoking Gun, this week's second scandale, because as much as I hate knee-jerk reactions, I hate jerk reactions even more, and I don't want to get into a whole thing, but fuck you, Scott Savol. Real men don't go to the violence place, ever. And fuck you for taking every joke I've ever cracked at your expense, about how you're creepy and violent and a lurker and a freak and a bad, rotten person, and making them all true, because that brings down the quality of my recaps and I can't have that. 8 Mile is just a movie, you dick. You're nobody's hard-luck story. And FYI, I just got a call from upstairs and I'm supposed to tell you that God is not only in the tub, but as far as you're concerned, will be taking the waters at Biarritz until your ass is back on the couch in Cleveland taking advantage of a little bit of the old talking cure.
After high school, besides being warned verbally and in writing to stay off campus before eventually being arrested for that too, Scott had a few "odd jobs" at like barbecue spots and pizza shops, but was always dreaming of being in the music industry, so eventually he had to put those things aside -- those money-earning things called "jobs" -- and pursue his singing career. He sings Brian McKnight's "One Last Cry" (McKnight's another favorite of mine; sometimes whole evenings are devoted to turning off the lights, sparking some candles and listening to the remix of "Anytime" with a glass of wine and some zazen feeling of emotions) and I wish, oh how I wish it were your last cry, because that would be fun to watch come Wednesday. The song's moderately boring, and really tests his upper range, so there's a lot of straining in parts where you're like, fuck it, just go to falsetto, but when he actually does, it's mighty nice. I kind of like this performance, on the whole, but just barely. He sounds whiny and shouty for a lot of it, and the last bit is a little flat, but whatever. If the best Scott song ever was a solid 100, this is like a 75. Great thread title suggestions -- because one must soldier on and get it out of the way -- included:
dolcepienza: "Scott Savol: I Don't Like Wednesdays"
ld1: "Scott Savol: Vote or Die"
AgentX: "Take A Look at Him Now, If You Must: Scott Savol"
ravenous: "Scott Savol: Sing Torture Kill"
Purplish: "Scott Savol: The Una-Crooner," and
lexiselaine: "Scott Savol: You Know You Want To Leave Him, But He Refuses To Let You Go"
Randy calls it a tough song to sing, given the Brian McKnight of it all, but says it was all right: pitchy in spots, but it ended well. All true. Paula didn't "hear pitchy" at all, because she heard hardly anything, because she's viking so hard right now, the dolls won't even let her open her eyes. "I was swaying back and forth. I was 'vibing' it. You've got my heart." Randy asks if Scott "got Simon's heart" as well, and Simon smoothly replies, "Not in the slightest," and then calls it a karaoke performance for which he'd have unplugged the microphone. Again, overblown and not necessary, but at least Scott's only displeased at this, and not as shitty as he has been in response. Then Ryan ushers us to commercial, saying, "We'll be back before you can figure out what happened to Right Said Fred," and I'm riding a rage wave so hardcore right now that even that manages to piss me off, because…okay, I'll admit it. Up is one of my most favorite albums of the entire decade, because it presages a lot of what ended up happening in dance pop, and totally got run into the ground because of that one awful song, when really it should have had like four singles at least. Aaaand the fact that I just got righteously indignant in response to a dig at Right Said Fred? Means it's break time. Scott Savol poisons even my complicated but basically affectionate relationship with Ryan Seacrest.
Vonzell "She Came In Through the Mailroom Window" Solomon (tm badge9) started her martial arts training at five years of age, and in the mid-nineties got her first place trophy (six feet tall!), and her dad (also her instructor) was totally proud. Vonzell is the best kind of daddy's girl. I love it when she brings it up. She sings "I Have Nothing" and looks lovely, smiling and dimpling the whole time. Which is not really in line with the sentiment of the song, but whatever. She's great. I don't know if she has the best posture in the world, really, but I do hope people start finding her memorable, because she's fantastic. I sincerely doubt that the AI people will let her win, because of their obvious marketing plan for the show, but we'll see. This is her most polished performance yet. It's lovely. I'm generally of the opinion that you shouldn't sing Whitney, ever, not even and maybe especially if you're Whitney herself, but this is nice. Other great thread suggestions here included ChunkeeMunkee and TrueBlue's "Destiny's Step-Child" and SnippyScholar's "Vonzell Solomon: Gruntled, With Dimples."
Randy explodes with how the girls are on fire tonight, mentioning that Vonzell was "a little sharp in spots," but allows as how the song is hard to sing and modulate due to the Whitney of it all; he loves how she keeps "growing and getting better," and says he loved it. Paula notes that she "sang higher than Whitney," reiterates for I think the fifteenth time that "America is falling in love with her," and then goes to the gender confusion again all, "You outsang the girls tonight," before calling it "top notch." Paula's so weird, you guys. It's kind of awesome. Simon says that three weeks ago he would have called it "career suicide" for her to sing a Whitney song, but he does think she's somehow pulled it off. He winks at her so fast you can barely see it. I imagine that felt good.
To review: Bo was an ugly kind of sexy, but bored, Jessica was stultifying and lovely, Anwar was very nasally up in his nasal, and Nadia was as awesome as ever and did sexy dances. Constantine was either the best or the worst, depending if you're looking at the screen at any point, Nikko was totally fun, singing all over the place, A-Fed looked like he was trying so hard he might break something, but looked very grown up, and Carrie was horrifyingly perfect. Scott was creepy to look at and full of crap, but sounded okay, and Vonzell was everything I want from my Idol, except still kind of hard to remember.
Wednesday
Ryan is dressed to the nines tonight, in a pale gray suit with really narrow lapels. He calls last night an "amazing effort," and says that "intensity" is what being in the Top Ten is all about. The phones received, he says, the highest number of votes outside a finale: 32,500,000. Crazy. He thanks us "for the love" on behalf of the contestants, and then points out the judges, who are variously bored, high and wearing a fake flower in her décolletage, and bored.
We see the Tuesday highlights completely out of order: Carrie "felt natural" to Paula and to Paula alone, Bo was "where he belongs," Constantine couldn't make me love him if he tried but gave his best performance so far, Nadia rocked out and Paula and Simon were impressed, Nikko danced all cute, and Anwar refused to support his voice in any way. Simon hated on Scott, Jessica, and A-Fed, but was blown away, along with everyone else (including some fake extra applause bots), by Vonzell.
Results are coming up, after the third and final Tsunami Tsingle, for which, if we care, we still have 12 hours to vote. "Everything Is Beautiful" is the song, with which I admit I'm not familiar, and first up is Scott, wearing pink but no regrets, singing about how everything is beautiful in its own way, then Vonzell looks great, Nadia smiles beautifully, and Bo's pants are very stretchy. It's a successful group sing, although the voices don't mesh as well as usual, but I have to point out that this is the most ridiculous song I've ever heard in my life. Did Anwar write this song? "Everything is beautiful in its own way, like a starry summer night" and about how you shouldn't judge your brothers based on the length of their hair. This is more PLUR than Moby on his gayest E trip while having a bunk-bed sleepover with Santana, sixteen stuffed animals, both Care Bear movies, and the entirety of the Polyphonic Spree. I'm a-gonna Google this shit, while it goes on and on. I've got to know. Okay, it's Ray Stephens, and he's not particularly a burnout, just a guy with his finger on the pulse of America, who has had like a million songs and Grammys and whatnot, so I'm not going to diss him, I'm just going to say that it takes balls of steel to combine the LCD zeitgeist pulse-taking of a novelty act like Weird Al Yankovic with the Bono-sized, creepy, congenital cynicism you need to have a songwriting résumé that includes both this hippy-dippy love song to the masses and something called "Osama, Yo Mama."
Nikko sounds really good, Jessica's a little subdued but still fun to watch, and this remains the dumbest song I've ever heard. Anthony looks hot as hell, Anwar again looks like he's herniating internally when he sings, Constantine does a totally retarded Dirk Diggler kick at the camera -- the wrong camera -- before choreographing himself a nice little arm wave like three measures before anybody else goes into it. Carrie wrinkles her nose "adorably" into the camera and gives us "pretty feet" and "cute face" until the camera gets away from her. The song ends with the Bo Spot behind the judges occupied by Constantine, Jessica, Scott, Nadia, and Anwar, and Constantine's is the magic hand we fade out on this week. I'm afraid this week might have been my last chance to decode what the hell that whole hand thing is about. My first impulse is again that it's a church camp thing, but…do you think maybe the meaning of the hand is some kind of pleading for relief from the tsunami? Or, like, all weather? I don't know.
Commercial, and then: Muppet Idols. What the hell? They're singing that Digable Planets -- who I really like, by the way, except for this song -- song "Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)," and they are Muppets. Human-sized Muppets. I call bullshit on many levels. First of all, WHAT? Second of all, I am 80% sure that this is due to the fact that they were probably scheduled up to their eyeballs like they are every week, and thus could not fit in this week's pimpomercial, so they stuck some people in some quickly-whipped up Big Comfy Couch costumes and just did a quick vocal, which explains why they're all singing in the style of the actual Digable Planets, who are pretty street, but that part's a comfort because I do not need to see Actual Carrie singing about how she's "freak like dat." I just don't need that in my life, to the degree that I think maybe that's a good reason to have the Comfy Couch Muppets there, so we don't have to see her and Jessica and Anwar trying to pronounce things correctly. This kind of thing always reminds me of Billie Holliday, how my Dad told me this story a long time ago about how she sang songs from Porgy And Bess and refused to sing it off the book (e.g., "Porgy, I's Your Woman Now"), and how cool I thought that was, and the opposite of that kind of cool is what these Muppets are doing.
It sucks so bad I'll never stop, so here's the rundown of the good bits: the best thing, hands-down, is the Idol Muppets b-boy dancing on cardboard, in slow motion. That actually looks totally awesome in a very Flaming Lips kind of way. Second most awesome is the butt chin of the Constantine Muppet. I love also: the fact that I can't tell who three of them are supposed to be, and that maybe there's not a Scott Muppet at all; how all of them look almost exactly like the people, except none of them are totally fat or creepy, so you don't know which one is Scott; the fact that they're all wearing hip-hop gear; the fact that Nadia Muppet's hair is too small and I took forever to identify her because without the hair, the Muppet looks exactly like the evil yenta upstairs in Rosemary's Baby; the fact that just like in real life the Carrie and Jessica Muppets are nearly indistinguishable; and finally, Ryan's total and utter confusion at what the fuck just happened. I'm feeling you, dude.
Bottom Three time. Nikko was "incredible," gave "pride" to one judge and "fresh air" to another. He's safe. Good. Constantine gave his "best [male] vocal, by a mile" and "sang like a classic pop star" and was "better than Bo." He's safe, which, based on not looking at the screen and ignoring our history together, I can see being a good. Carrie gave the "best performance," was "natural" (hah!), and "had the It Factor." She's safe, which is also fine by me. I'm okay with all of this.
Bo is automatically safe, of course. He was "back" and rocking again, did "an awesome job," or was a "wedding singer." ("Maybe [Simon's] soon, huh?" giggles Ryan weirdly, and even Bo is like, "Leave me out of it.") We cut away to the first crowd shot on this one, to show how happy we are that he's safe. Nadia was a "really great performer," "miles better than last week," but may have "left the audience cold" with her lesbian singing. She's in the bottom three again. Simon looks mean at this, and his mouth goes, "Whaa?" Mine too.
Jessica sang a boring song that "didn't showcase her talent," and was "not likeable," and is in the bottom three. Simon's upset by this as well, and so is her gross family. Scott and Fake Jesus and I don't even know what Ryan is saying because I'm hating Scott so vigorously, and then he's safe, and then there's Fake Jesus all up out the joint and raising the fucking roof. Hate. Anwar was either "inconsistent" or "great," Vonzell was "sharp in spots but the bomb," "out-sang the other girls," and totally "pulled it off." Anthony looks really, really nice tonight, is "growing up," winks at the camera, "did a great job," or sucked completely. Ryan points out how we had to wait on these three last week too, like it's their fault.
Anna calls me to joke about how Anthony is just bopping around in his little seat like he's not clearly going up out of those three, and how he's just so worried about Vonzell or something. Then the joke's on us because A-Fed's safe, and Anwar is in the bottom three this week. That's the only one I can agree with, because I love Jessica and Nadia no matter what but also they weren't that bad. Not compared to Anthony, for example. It's getting a lot harder to point out the worst performances, but I can still like who I like. Jessica and Anwar hold hands because I was right about them, and Simon is again with the middle finger tracing his lips while staring lazily at Ryan, but he's pretty awesome because he just leaves that middle finger right out in the daylight parked on his cheek through the whole rest of this. We're live and this whole thing is stupid. Anwar's outfit is totally awesome, by the way, all industrial and earth-toned. I was too perturbed by all the stuff going on to notice that until just now.
Simon says if anything he'd switch Nadia and Scott in that lineup. Scott is a fucker and an ungrateful ass, but I think he's just making his normal creepy face again here instead of pulling that bullshit from the last couple of weeks. Jessica's kind of shocked to be up there, she admits. Not me. I love her, but she sang the most boring song ever. She says, and I agree, that she did her best last night, but only within the confines of the fact that she should never have chosen that song in the first place. First Lindsey and now Jessica, crowding up in Carrie's box when they should be singing other music entirely. It's deadly, man. Nadia is now safe and only thanks Jesus and the people of America a little bit, and I marvel how I once was bothered by that until Scott came in with the fake-ass religion. She looks at A-Fed as she returns to Suffragette City in this adorable "Whew! That was close!" way. Jessica and Anwar look kind of sad at us and each other, and then blink when they have to wait some more, because there's a commercial, even though it took me longer to write this paragraph than it did to get through this segment. They hug some more.
All three of them onstage, Jessica, Anwar, and Ryan, look fantastic. This will be a slight bit easier thanks to that. Randy calls this "one of those weird weeks" where the best singers are in the bottom three. Then he says it's "not about looks or personality," which is accidentally a TOTAL BURN, and the camera doesn't know who to focus on as he says this, since they're both attractive people, with nice personalities. That was very Paula of him. Randy and Paula are both pretty much shocked that two of the top vocalists are on the stage right now. Ryan asks whether the audience should be judging more on individual nights, or each performer as a whole, and that's too many words for Paula, so she goes TILT and just says that you have to "keep calling for the people you like you have to remember to call." I understand how she could think that was hard. Ryan reiterates that you shouldn't do the thing people do every year, which is to assume that certain people are safe and then get burned by the McKibbin Maneuver. From the faces of the judges and Ryan, I honestly think they're as grossed out by this as I am.
If you read the recaplets, you know I was pretty upset Wednesday night, and I've chilled since then, but mostly it's all an act and I'm still pretty hurt by what happens : Jessica had the lowest number of votes, and she's out. Ryan kind of blurts his horror about this, Anwar's earnestly and sincerely sad, and he hugs her a while. I knew he was her Mikalah. Oh, man, that means the whole Andy Dick scenario won't pan out at all, and that was awesome. Maybe she went all "The Grandmother" and left them poisoned cookies or something. Cross your fingers. The judges look grossed out; Simon smirks sadly. Jessica thanks Ryan for his congratulations on getting this far, and says she loved every minute of the experience, and then the video journey, where she talks about how emotional it's been. She calls singing "a dream she's always had," and says she doesn't regret any performances. Any of them, sweetie? Really? I can think of at least one I'd like to discuss with you. We remember how Simon once told her how she gave the best female performance, and she tells us about how she's learned to take criticism better through this, because unlike some people I could mention, she hardly ever forgets she's on TV, I think, and then she and everybody in Suffragette City crack up because at the mention of the criticism we get a shot of her making an extreme "bleuurrgh" face at the camera, and it's very cute. She takes off the leather jacket she's been wearing, and you can really see her black extensions, underside, and against her extremely unflattering teal tank, they look pretty cool.
She again sings the most boring song in the world, and I think about how it's the last time I'll get to hear her voice, which is sad. She is a little flat sometimes, because she's sad, but she really puts her back into it. We focus on Carrie looking bummed or dead, and then she notices that a camera is on her, so she jerks her eyes away from the monitor and onto Jessica, then back to the monitor and her own face, and then away again; it's very cute, honestly, and at the very end she purses her lips a little more, and it's hysterical how long it took her to process that whole deal, but I think she's probably at least a little bummed, and you can see obviously that Anwar is. And I know I am, because I really liked her, and I'm pissed at America to a certain extent, but seriously, you vote the Idol you deserve, and I'm not emotionally invested enough to not kind of thrill to the idea that several weeks from now Carrie or Constantine or Scott will prove to the world what they've secretly thought about us all this time, and besides, that was the most boring song I think I've ever heard. There's this part where it gears up to jump to a higher key, but then…doesn't, really. Letdown. Kind of like tonight. More thread title shenanigans week, but until then: Seacrest out.