In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.
The "Best": Tami Gosnell (29, Lafayette CO) drives a pedicab for a living, and the judges appreciate her gorgeous voice and handsome features. I'm pretty sure Simon saying she reminds him of the '60s is code for "lesbian," but he looked like he was crushing on her regardless. Paul Kim (25, Saratoga CA) hates William Hung so goddamned much, which is enough to get me on his side immediately, even when his voice -- while good -- proves breathy and affected. Gina Glocksen (that was her I saw back in Memphis!) loves Simon Cowell even more than last time, and she'll get another opportunity to be rejected in Hollywood. Heather, Ashley, and Ebony audition together as tarted-up roller-waitresses. Ebony is almost comically more talented than the other two, but Ashley makes it through as well, though Paula advises that she stop applying her makeup with a trowel. Lakisha Jones (26, Fort Meade MD) isn't as good as any of the judges seem to think she is (says the guy with no experience and questionable taste, but whatever, you know I'm right) as she shouts her way through some Aretha.
The "Of The Rest": Christa Fazzino's hook is that she dresses like a crazy person, or at least one obsessed with Tom Petty's "Don't Come Around Here No More" video. Edward Sanchez is utterly and adorably in love with Paula, and the fact that he gets to hug her trumps the fact that he warbled his way through a painful rendition of "Donna." W.E.S. is a bald alien from the planet Tangerine Satin; he composed his own song, and we'll assume he wrote all the stomping in there on purpose. Alexander Nazario murders the hell out of "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All," and I may never forgive him for it.
Also: there's going to be a songwriting contest this year, so if you have any strong feelings about inspiration, ambition, and how blessed you feel to have flown to the mountaintop on wings made of dreams, well, you might want to start putting pen to paper. And finally...was that Matthew Buckstein I saw? Light the Bucksignal -- Sars must be made aware!
week: Seacrest's voice-over, as usual, makes the Hollywood round look like the most awesome apocalypse ever. Jacob gets to have all the fun. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
I don't think it says a whole lot about the hour we're about to be subjected to when it starts off with a big ol' preview for how cool week's Hollywood round is going to be. Ryan's voice-over tells us that 172 contestants will battle it out week, "withstanding the very worst that our judges can throw at them." I'm pretty sure we're only seeing footage from this season in the clips that are flying by, but the dead-on doppelgangers for Fantasia, Kellie Pickler, and Constantine are having fun making me second-guess myself. Crying people, crying people, crying people. Ryan's VO tells us that, believe it or not, some people want to be put through this (cue a crying girl from auditions). So many people, in fact, that the seven episodes were not nearly enough to contain all the awesome and hilarious and mind-blowing auditions. So they've cobbled together one more hour out of bits and pieces from the seven audition cities. And just in case you thought this was a catch-all episode so that we'd be able to see some of the eventual Top 24 before they actually Elliott Yamin their way into our living rooms, sight unseen, Ryan assures us that we'll be seeing "some of the very best" and "the very worst." And as the flip-book parade of contestants speeds by and the quarter-second snippets of auditioneers pass, I could swear that I see...was that...Matthew? Matthew Buckstein? Couldn't be.
In an effort to lend a bit of structure to what is an inherently unstructured mishmash of leftovers, Ryan's VO will be providing us with handy title cards, all precipitated on the concept of giving us, the home viewers, "a lesson in auditioning."
Lesson 1: The Look
Ryan's VO says Lesson 1: The Look is about standing out among a crowd of...indeterminate number. Random people in random cities take wild guesses as to how many people there are -- including goddamn Sarah Goldberg, who I still hate. The freakiest dressed include some dude in a purple suit (with hat), "Eccentric" the sex panther, man in an afro wig, purple glitter platform shoes guy, angel wings guy, and then some dude with a truly AWESOME t-shirt. Check it: it's a giant photo of Randy Jackson from his Journey days -- high-top fade up to Jesus, whacked-out late 1980s shoulder-padded jacket with the sleeves scrunched up, keytar slung over his shoulder -- that says "Journey to American Idol" on the front, and then on the back: "Don't Stop Believin'." Randy yells that it's the best shirt he's ever seen, and I'm not inclined to disagree. Then, more freaks: leather pants and wrestling boots guy. Lady in a nun costume...that she rips off to reveal some Coyote Fugly trashy number. The usual.
According to Ryan's VO, the outfit, from Birmingham, takes the cake. The outfit doesn't really hang together as a coherent look, so I'm just going to explain the components: red, open-toed heels; black-and-white checkered capris; a hot pink and black bustier top with a kind of shirt-veil that pulls up from the bust like a reverse cravat and then wraps around the neck like a choker; bright red mosquito netting that she's using as a wrap; and finally, an open-topped pillbox hat (?) with a black funeral veil. This is Christa Fazzino, and she's dressed like a French prostitute going to John Waters's funeral. That's the best I can do. Christa describes herself as "unique and entertaining." She says she uses fashion to express whatever mood she's in, and today she feels "bright, vibrant, happy, excited." Hence the preponderance of black and the funeral veil.
Inside, she's walking like this is the first time she's ever been in heels, and she kind of reminds me of Avril Lavigne when she talks, so maybe this IS her first time in heels. Randy's like, "Whoa, nice outfit," and Christa is like, "Cool, right? Thanks!" Paula asks if the clothes are an indication of the performance to come, and Christa then re-explains the whole clothes-dictate-the-mood thing. "And today you felt like the inside of a dustbin," Simon jabs. Christa doesn't understand him, and Simon backs off all "nothing, nothing, nothing." Christa's singing is, as you might expect, not so much singing at all. Awful in all the usual ways, and the stomping of her feet and the pumping of her arms aren't really helping matters either. Paula turns to Randy and whispers, "What's that song?" and then she stops Christa's singing and asks again: "I don't know what...that is. I don't know what song that is." Randy's immediately like, "I don't even know if that would matter." Simon dubs it ridiculous, starting with the "dancing." And because Simon said the "d" word, Paula goes into freak-out defensive mode: "That wasn't dancing!" "Attempting to," says Simon, and Paula gets all pissed off. "Like you would know!" she spits. She is such a strange person. Christa asks if she can do something else, and Simon suggests juggling. You know, now that he mentions it, there is a little Cirque de Soleil in her. The judges all say no, and the Christa starts crying at the door, saying she knows she can sing. Paula -- I'd say "unbelievably" if this were anyone else but her -- actually caves in to the tears and says she changes her vote to "yes" out of some Solidarity of the Tearful or whatever. Doesn't matter, Simon and Randy still say no. !
Memphis: Ryan's VO introduces us to Tami Gosnell, 29, and the first thing you notice about Tami is the giant lip ring in the center of her lower lip. I'm not sure whether it's the piercing that says "lesbian" or the fact that she looks like Piper Perabo's butch cousin -- not that it much matters either way, because Tami's great. With her big, beautiful smile full of big, beautiful teeth, Tami greets the judges. I think Simon is wary at first, because Simon's in love with all things commercial, and it's hard to read "commercial" off of Tami, at least right away. Paula confirms that Tami's a pedicab driver, and in lieu of responding with words, Tami just pantomimes her rickshaw-dragging routine. Perhaps Tami was mesmerized by the glare off of Paula's giant brass heart choker (it's baaaack!). Tami offers to take all three judges for a ride if they ever come to Denver. Simon asks if the passengers whip her if she goes too slow, and Tami laughs and goes, "That...would be good." I...don't know where she was going with that, but she's on the spot so I'll cut her some slack. The happy coincidence is, the song she'll be singing is "Whipping Post." Simon holds out his hand like he just performed a miracle. I really enjoy the sound of Tami's voice. Bluesy, but not affected or cluttered with any Taylor-like gesticulations. It's a strong, clear, soulful voice, and she looks like she's putting a lot of herself into the song. Simon says he "really, really likes" her. Tami's almost surprised and says, "Oh! I like that." She's great. He says she's different (read: lesbian), like someone you might have seen in the sixties (again: lesbian) and she stands out (lessssssssbian). I'm happy to see Simon's willing to back someone with such an Etheridgian exterior, given how many times he's advised finalists to stay away from Melissa's songs lest they catch The Lez. Paula's so happy that Tami's happy, and that makes me happy. Jesus Christ, this is almost nauseating. I promise I'll get to something that sucks soon enough. With an "I love you" from Paula and a "1,000 percent" from Simon, Tami advances to what Randy lamely dubs "Hollyweird," and outside, she gets a big hug from her (most likely) girlfriend. As a courtesy to Rupert Murdoch, however, they do not kiss.
Commercials. Dudes, Drive looks fuckin' awesome.
The title card says "Lesson 2: Seek Inspiration," and Ryan tells us that this means find someone you either look like, sound like, or obsess about, and reference them constantly on the way to your audition. For example: that gray-haired hairdresser who "looked like" Taylor Hicks, even though I found him more reminiscent of Bobby Boucher's daddy from The Waterboy ("It's me, son! Ro-boi-to!"); this girly boy who loves Fantasia; special needs Jonathan, who should never have been on the show (he liked Taylor...no comment); a Leelee Sobieski doppelganger who's a fan of Xtina; a Bo Duke doppelganger who's into Ozzy; a boring blonde girl who loves Mariah; and Vincent D'O-not-frio in a wacky tie, who likes him some Hasselhoff, which draws a wide-eyed reaction from Simon Cowell, even though that reaction was likely not in the same state as the comment that preceded it. This leads us to Los Angeles, where Paul Kim's inspiration comes from a more healthy place. Because holy crap, does Paul Kim ever hate William Hung. I mean, so do I, but that's just because of what he represents for the human race. Paul hates William Hung because "when people think about 'Asian singer' they think 'William Hung.'" He says, "I'm not hatin' on William Hung, but..." But you totally are! And it's okay! Seriously, he's William Hung. Without Anna Nicole Smith around anymore, he and Paris Hilton are the only two people left in the world that everybody hates. Revel in the hateration, Paul. It's lovely.
Inside, Paul tells the judges (complete with Olivia Newton-John, who's still very shiny) that he's a "pool technician." That means pool cleaner, yes? "Technician" is just a code for whatever the lowest rung on your particular professional ladder is. Trust me, I've been one plenty of times. Paul sings "If I Ever Fall In Love" by Shai, sounding very traditional R&B. I'm not a fan of the extreme breathiness in his style, not to mention the oversinging and affected runs, but he certainly has a good voice, and Paula and Olivia both seem quite taken with him. Randy calls him "one of the best male voices" he's heard yet, which is just untrue, but nice anyway. Olivia liked the "smokiness" of his voice. Paula kind of wants to do him, but since she can't say that sort of thing, she takes a stroll through Word Village and says a million things that mean nothing, while Simon keeps asking her if she's voting yes or no. I think Simon's not as impressed with Paul as the rest of them, but he at least knows he's supposed to go to Hollywood, so when Paula gets petulant and won't provide a yes or no vote, Simon votes "yes" and passes him through. Bets on whether Paul and William Hung sing a duet at the finale in May?
Ryan's VO says that while Paul was proof of the importance of "improving upon past Idol performances," Jack Odanovich tried to improve upon St. Bo Bice of Credibilia, and that's just something you do not do. Remember when Bo sang all a cappella and crap? Bo's penetrating gaze and shiny hair from that performance fade into Jack singing the "In a Dream" as well, though we'll be charitable and say the vocal quality is disparate. Jack looks like...Jack looks like...okay, picture John Turturro. But then imagine that John Turturro had spent his formative years in one of those darkened crates where they raise veal. The audition goes on beyond forever, and when it's done, Simon calls Jack "incredibly deluded." Jack then apologizes, which always makes me a little sad, even though the judges kind of deserved an apology, and he walks sadly out. Well, that wasn't fun at all. Way to ruin everything, Bo.
Lesson 3: Never Give Up. This lesson, says Seacrest, is all about the past rejectees who auditioned again this year. Let's see if I recognize any of them. Well, first there's Canadian diplomat Jory Steinberg, but I only recognize her from two weeks ago in New York, that doesn't count. Anyone else? Nope, nope, nope, nope, no-- hold up. Buckstein! Matthew Buckstein from last season's Hollywood round! I think I heard Sars "squeee!" from across the state. ["Love that guy! He still has zero shot, but: love!" -- Sars] Then there's a cute boy named Francis with a gothic cross on his t-shirt, who looks like Zack from Heroes before they de-gayed him and made him look dirty all the time. And Simon completely doesn't remember him, which is sad, but you have to figure that even on the off chance Simon did remember him, he totally wouldn't say so anyway. Buck up, Francis. All this leads up to Gina Glocksen, who auditioned last season in Chicago and made it to Hollywood but no further. And then I thought I recognized her for a split second at the Memphis auditions this year, and it turns out I was right. I recall very much enjoying Gina last season, and I don't know whether it's the Joan Jett shag or the tattooed sleeves she's wearing, but I'm not exactly feeling the love this time around.
Inside, Randy recognizes Gina right away, but she's got no time for the Jackson. She's still all about Simon. "In love" with him, in fact. She babbles on about her crush and "these dreams," and she stops short of describing the contents of the dreams, thank God. Paula smilingly calls her an ass-kisser, which is funny considering Paula's role on the show. Gina sings "Black Velvet," and, to quote Randy Jackson, it's a'ight. Nothing special. Lucky for her, nobody wants to talk about her voice much. Simon likes her and thinks she has "good taste," wink-wink. Randy and Paula needle her about liking Simon so much. Gina just wants to hug him, but he makes her wait until the judges rule. Randy and Paula both give "why not?" votes, so Gina's going back to Hollywood. And she gives Simon some sugar before she leaves. She's sweet. I hope she sings better in Hollywood.
After the commercials, Gina Glocksen is still running around and screaming -- proof, says Ryan, that "flattery gets you everywhere." Which kicks off a montage of other people who loooooved Simon, including but not limited to: this girl who looks like Norelle from that one season of Top Model dressed up like a Catholic school girl, who's written Simon's name on her panties. Then there are the people who "like" Randy, except nobody likes Randy, so it's just person after person calling Randy a fat no-talent. And finally, Paula Abdul's parade of admirers, which range from the very old to the very young, though all of them are very misguided. This all leads us to Edward Sanchez, who maybe loves Paula more than all of us combined. He's twenty-six, which makes him officially too old for any of this behavior, but he adores Paula like a star-struck kid. He stumbles over his words a lot, but he does manage to convey how big a fan he was of the MC Skat Cat video, which is hysterical. Paula gets up from the table, and she and Edward share a very warm hug. This was from San Antonio, so Paula's in one of her lucid periods, which helps things along considerably. He sings "Donna," and Simon tells him to sing it directly to Paula. That extra bit of motivation doesn't help, so Paula's serenade is just a warbly mess. "Oh, Edward," she says, in that tone I always take with the sweet but embarrassing contestants. She gives him a lot of credit for "coming down here, confessing your love for me...and the cat." Hee. The judges all pass, even Paula, who resists the impulse to patronize him with a sympathy vote. It's cool with Edward, though. He got to meet Paula. He gushes to the cameras outside and leaves with a parting note for Paula to "stay hot."
is the annual "day jobs these people have when they're not making fools of themselves on TV" montage. Hairdressers and cops and office workers and disc jockeys and guitar builders and wheat...threshers (?) and I think I see someone digging a ditch? Do people still do that? Ryan reminds us that last season, Ace got up on someone's roof and pretended he was a roofer. And Chris Daughtry wore one of those Best Buy polo shirts and pretended to take customer service calls. And Kellie Pickler was a roller-skating waitress. She still is, if you think about it. This leads us to Heather, Ashley, and Ebony, who are all three roller-skating waitresses, each dressed in fishnets and garters and hot pink tutu skirts and black tees. They look like they just came from an audition for Grease: You're The One That I Want...To Pose for Maxim. Ryan's VO says the lesson here is Audition On Your Own. Ashley -- the one with the pink flower in her hair, not to mention a metric ton of foundation and bronzer on her face -- shrugs her shoulders and tells us she wants to be an American Idol because "...I'm American?" Ebony -- the one with the pink bow in her hair -- says she's got something to prove. Heather -- pink headband -- knows that they'll have to be split up eventually.
Inside, Simon's already tired of them and asks who's going to go first. Heather starts off, and is clearly not at the level she needs to be to proceed. Simon's ready to throw the three of them out as he calls for Ashley to sing . She sings Sarah McLachlan's "Angel," boringly, but better than Heather. They're like the three little pigs: Heather's voice was made of straw, and Ashley's is made of sticks. Who's got the brick house? Well, that would be Ebony, who already has Whitney Houston's mid-'80s hair, so it's not a huge surprise that she sings a Whitney song: "I Believe in You and Me." Ebony is very, very good. A little goaty in the Christina Christian vein, but I loved Christina Christian, so that's not going to bother me. Simon sits right up in his chair and says Ebony can "sing the phone book" and that she's clearly in a different league than the other two. Randy confirms that the three of them are friends, which makes Simon giddy, because he loves this kind of thing, pitting friends against each other. He basically says that the other two belong in roller-skates showing their asses to drive-thru perverts while Ebony is a bona fide star in the making.
Heather gets unanimous "no" votes. Randy and Olivia Newton-John say "yes" to Ashley. So does Paula, though she prefaces it by telling her she's a pretty enough girl without the plastered-on pancake makeup. Simon makes "meow" noises and has some fun with Paula being the bitchy one for once, but Paula insists she's being helpful. "My motherly advice," Ashley offers, about halfway to rolling her eyes, which is about what the comment deserves. It takes a second for it to register, but Paula and Randy eventually start cracking up. It seems like there's an inside joke at play that we're not entirely privy to, though I can probably guess that Paula had objected to being called "motherly" earlier on. Paula repeats the comment to Olivia, and they both lose it. Simon smiles large and says, admiringly, "That was a nice retaliation." Ashley's all, "No, no! I didn't mean it like that!" It's all in good fun, though, which is nice to see, and Ashley makes it through to Hollywood. As does Ebony, who I figure has "finalist" stamped on her almost-visible ass, an impression that's only enhanced as we hear the judges go on and on about her after she leaves. Not to mention Ryan's VO going, "Two girls through, but one real star." Okay! We get it.
We return from commercial to Kelly Clarkson singing her coronation song from Season One. Ryan's VO rattles off all five winners' singles and mentions how they all went on to "huge success." Heeee hee hee. Ryan's voice-over is funny. He tells us that this year, instead of the season's winner having to sing some cobbled-together-in-committee sub-Diane Warren schmaltzy ballad, the Idol producers are holding a songwriting contest, so the viewers at home can come up with their own sub-Diane Warren schmaltzy ballads. Seriously, we already know the kinds of songs this show is partial to. I don't know what they think opening things up to the public is going to do. We're still going to end up with some approximation of "Flying on the Proud Wings of Heaven" anyway. Ryan's VO also doesn't mention that this entire gambit is essentially Nigel Lythgoe's way of making Randy Jackson shut the fuck up with the song critiques at the season finale like he always does. Again, I'm not sure that holding a contest is going to make Randy any better at finding a new thing to say, but I'm not the producer of the highest-rated show on TV, so what do I know? So get your entries in now, America! Soon you could find your work getting unfavorably compared to "A Moment Like This"!
Staying on the songwriting tip, we get a selection of original song choices in the auditions, including a Tori-Amos-by-way-of-Sarah-Brightman abomination, and some pop-'n'-lock beatboxing by a skinny white boy named Brandon Reid. You're no longer invited to the reunion, guy. Ryan says the oddest original composition may have come from "Holly-weird" (ugh) itself: meet W.E.S. W.E.S. looks like an alien cult leader, for starters, from the giant gleaming bald head, to the billowy electric-tangerine blouse, to the disturbingly soothing tones of his voice, designed to lure you into his web of spaceships and plural marriage. The creepy pan flute in the background ain't helping much either, so just cut it out, Zamfir. His name, William Emil Samland, has been shortened to the acronym W.E.S. It also anagrams to "Madman Will Mail Lies." Huh? Think about that. W.E.S. makes arm-crossing genie motions and a "W.E.S." graphic comes shooting out of the middle of his head. I'm only 80% sure that was post-production that did that.
Inside, he tells the judges that he'll be singing a song of his own, called "Don't Worry, Don't Hurry." The "song" consists of W.E.S. shouting random phrases and stomping and clapping a lot. The lyrics included phrases like "your innocent love," "push on that trowel," "the level up" and other culty buzzwords. Olivia Newton-John can barely look at him. He tells Simon he thinks he did well, because he sang his truth from his heart or whatever. Randy says, "Well, at least you got it out, you know." Like you would say to someone with the flu who just spent the morning in front of a toilet. The judges all pass on W.E.S., but Ryan's VO almost makes it all worthwhile by comparing his stompy-clompy motions to Taylor's "unique" dance style. Sing it, Ryan!
And speaking of Taylor, Lesson 5 is Shake Your Moneymaker... ? Even the graphics department isn't sure that's such a good idea. Cue the C&C Music Factory! Who's dancing? Camouflage-panted Bryan, for one. Nick Zitzmann from Seattle, for another. Some cute boy with product-y hair who does the lawn sprinkler. Ripped-jeans girl, who does a back handspring into a split that's fairly impressive. She may actually be Eliza Dushku, for all I know. Some vampy girl tries to prowl her way onto the judges' table but gets a stern warning from Randy, and it does indeed look like the table's about to break. Afro-wigged Blues Brothers guy. Denim-clad break-dancer. Matthew Buckstein (!) backstage, winking at the camera and drawling, "I don't dance." Ryan Seacrest breaks it down with some large and in-charge ladies. The Bush Baby guy from Seattle breaks out some N Sync moves. The Big Fat Greek lady. Stupid Ian Benardo. Random weird people. Then, almost as a reward for making it through such a trying thirty seconds, we're rewarded with a bit of the aforementioned MC Skat Cat video, where Paula's in her jammies, dancing with the cartoon cat.
Speaking of Paula, another gay Latin boy who's in love with her! Alexander Nazzario definitely isn't in love with Paula "that way," he's just inspired by her inspirational inspiration. He introduces himself while doing a headstand, which I think is part of what Paula says is Alexander's niche: "weird movements with [his] body." Once again, it's been proven that you can win American Idol with that as your major selling point, so we all know who to blame for this. Alexander is a dancer by trade, you can tell, and he likely only showed up here (in Memphis) to meet Paula. He declares his intention to sing Air Supply's "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All," which at first grabs my attention and then makes me sad. Because Alexander seems like an okay guy, but now I'm going to hate him. Because the things he does to that song should not be done to any song, much less the second greatest over-dramatic cheesy power ballad of the 1980s. ("Total Eclipse of the Heart" reigns supreme, even though it's been posited several times that they're essentially the same song.) Alexander's falsetto knows just how to whisper and it knows just how to make me cry, because I am in pain. This hurts my ears and my soul and everything else in between. Stop this right now!
Paula compliments his many splits and ballet flourishes. Simon decides to make a point, using Randy. He asks what Randy would say to Alexander if he came looking for singing advice. Randy says he'd suggest singing in "some theme parks." The "some" suggests off-brand theme parks like Marineland or Diznee's South Dakotan Adventure or something. Simon says the reality is that Alexander is maybe a good dancer, but he's not a good singer and will never be a good singer, so this is reality-check time. Paula tries to comfort him, but Alexander asks again, point blank: "Do I have the voice to sing?" Simon says, firmly but not unkindly, "Honestly, no." The judges can tell Alexander's a sweetheart, so they're all very nice as they vote "no," and then Paula gives him a hug. He taps Simon on the shoulder and I'm pretty sure he thanks him for the honesty, which is incredibly cool. And then just as he's about to walk out the door, Randy calls him back for a handshake of his own. That's seriously the best way I've ever seen a bad audition go. Even Alexander Other Dooring himself just comes across as sweetly endearing. What? It can't all just be making fun of retards on this show.
Lesson 6: Clarity. This is the one about not singing like a mushmouth. A glitzy-yet-cheap graphic that says "Name That Song" appears, and we have to try and guess what song some of these wannabes are singing. There's a fake 555 phone number at the bottom of the screen, where we can "call in" and "guess," though the too-cute speedy disclaimer voice is all, "Not really! Just a joke!" This is what happens sometimes when you're watching TV programmed for dumb people. First up is a screamy beanpole in sunglasses singing "Let's Stay Together." It's awful, but not unintelligible, so I don't know why it's included in this segment. Then a frumpy substitute-teacher-looking girl, singing something much less recognizable. It's captioned as "Annie's 'Song.'" Then we get what we came here for, another glimpse at Sandie Chavez of "Kenny Rogers and a leftover pie" fame from last night in San Antonio. She may very well be singing "Black Velvet" for all we can tell. Probably not, though. Something about "ain't nothing loose but a goose." The caption is actually helpful here, telling us it's "Chantilly Lace...Seriously!" Heh.
Finally, we have Lakisha Jones, 26, who has a three-year-old daughter and is looking for a better life. Oh, no, another human-interest tale. Start the cycle of outrage! "God, I wish they would stop showing Lakisha's damn daughter. It's about the MUSIC!" "She's barely been on TV and why do you hate single moms?" "I don't hate single moms. I know fifty single moms! I just hate Lakisha because she's not good enough and she's using her daughter to make stupid America feel sorry for her!" "But she's an awesome singer. And you clearly hate black people!" Ugh. I'm sorry, where was I?
Lakisha sings "Think" by Aretha Franklin, and while the song isn't exactly much more than a belter's paradise (much as I love it), I still think Lakisha is more loud than she is good. I am fully prepared to be proved wrong during Lakisha's long stay on this show, however. Because she's going to be with us for a long while. Randy and Paula are clapping and whooping with her within two notes, so this was a total ringer audition. Simon "LOVES" her, and calls her a "good old-fashioned belter." She's also dubbed "brilliant" and "likeable." You hear that, America? Likeable! Fall victim to our conditioning hypno-rays! Sheeeee's theeee Chooooosen Oooooone.
Sorry, I was auditioning to be a conspiracy theorist. Outside, Ryan waxes poetic about mother and daughter and their twin journeys to Idol superstardom. Ryan's voice-over promises to "keep an eye on 'em" in Hollywood. Aw. Ryan's voice-over is offering his manny services. Adorable.
And that's it, y'all. Auditions are OVAH. Ryan would like us to remember the teeming hordes of wannabes and the small but valuable pockets of actual talent and utter freakazoids which have made the first month of this show such a delight. You know we're fixing to do a montage here, so I'm just going to blurt out names of any and all faces I recognize. Like Sarah Burgess the runaway crybaby. And Tashawn Moore, dressed to impress. Awesome Castro beard guy. The scary saggy-boobed novella author/performance artist and her mom. Sweet little Matt Sato having a freakout. The "Urban Amish" liar. Bush Baby Kenneth still perfecting his JC Chasez. Bug-eyed Timika from Memphis. Seacrest dons some strange woman's wig. Cowardly Lion/Chewbacca girl. Awesome Chris Sligh and awful Brandy Patterson, dancing goofily. Kick-ass William Green pretend-yelling at the judges. Paula burping and spitting and Simon calling her a "dis-gus-ting pig!" Weird little Phuong. Nakia the doomed spitfire "Dancing in the Streets" girl. Big scary Margaret Fowler, on her way to the Norbit premiere. The heartbreaking old man who sang for his "lady love." Some girl having a seizure while Ryan pulls a Jack Benny to her. Randy and Paula move in for a sure-to-be-psychologically-scarring kiss. Randy and Paula chasing Simon down during the ridiculousness in L.A. Sarah Goldberg is still ear-splittingly "UNIQUE! WOOO!" Ryan gets dropped by Franks N Beans's cheerleading squad. Some old grandma we haven't seen before lectures Simon about rejecting her grandkid. Simon placates her for a second and then asks, "Why are you smiling?" Grandma: "Because I...I really like ya." Simon: "I can tell." Ha! Awesome.
I don't recognize the song they're playing as we see all these clips. It's not "Bad Day," and I'm really bothered by how much I kind of miss it. There's the weird, undulating street performer girl from New York. That girl with the Penny Lane hair who brushed the judges off her shoulder. Rachel Jenkins, our delightful G.I. Jane from Minnesota. The Gedeon McKinney look-alike from, I think, L.A. Melinda Doolittle, the shy backup singer. Stupid Ian Benardo and his gross rubbery face. Eccentric the sex panther. And then Ryan Seacrest using the devil sticks! Awesome! He's super-committed to it, too, chasing one wayward baton halfway down the hall. I'm the recapper who thinks Ryan's kind of a tool, but even I appreciated that one.
Super-dramatic undertones take us to scenes from week in Hollywood...but I'm gonna leave all that goodness for Jacob. Suffice it to say, the Paris and Nicole girls cause drama, a whole bunch of people we've never seen get cut, and Matt Sato cries tears of happiness. Aw! I don't know if I can handle a whole season of that kid. See you at semifinals!