It's country week with Martina McBride, and the Idols respond to a second consecutive week of Genres That Don't Mean Shit To Them by not singing country whatsoever. Nice! Phil opens the show with a good vocal on Keith Urban's "Where the Blacktop Ends." He takes it into the audience, where his suck-uppery can really shine. Meanwhile, Simon and Paula aren't paying attention as they're engaged in a "Got Your Nose" contest. Not kidding. The judges recognize that he's probably the best-suited to this genre. Jordin takes on McBride's own "Broken Wing," and she's so good she makes herself cry. It's the best version of that song I have ever heard, and Simon tells her he can finally see her winning this show. Sanjaya Hair Update: brunette Carrot Top meets Russian housekeeper. Sanjaya Song Update: "Something To Talk About" by Bonnie Raitt. It's terrible, but worse, it's uninteresting. However, it does lead to a phenomenal smack-down from Simon to Ryan. LaKisha chooses "Jesus Take The Wheel," and brings up the kid for the second straight week. Just from the song choice you know it's going to be a massacre with the judges, but her voice does her the added disservice of completely checking out on her. Of course, Simon reduces it to his usual "black girls shouldn't sing country" hang-up, which misses the point.
Chris's voice is also pretty suited to country, as Martina tells us, but the performance is a non-event at best. That's two weeks in a row for him, and there could be trouble. Of course, just as I think that, Chris gets really snitty with Simon and makes the supreme error of following that with a shout-out to Virginia Tech. I...have complicated feelings about all of it. Melinda's song tells us "Trouble is a woman with a man on her mind." She got hair extensions and they look fantastic, by the way. She's wonderful and kind of surprising, which is what she needs to be from here on out. The judges love her, and Simon finally tells her to knock it off with the humility already. Blake chooses "Tim McGraw's 'When the Stars Go Blue,'" which is about sixteen lies right in a row there. It ceases to matter pretty quickly, because he's wonderful. It's a gorgeous song, and Blake does it justice. Randy and Paula appreciate it, but Simon is...reminded of the Virginia Tech tragedy. It's not nearly that profane, but, much like with Chris, the timing is bizarre.
Going home? Yikes. I'm at a loss. Chris's antics should blow back on him, but I'm betting they won't. Which means Phil (who was actually not bad but far from our memories), LaKisha (who was legitimately awful), something wonderful (Sanjaya?! Please?!), or something terrible (anyone who I haven't mentioned).
Before we start with anything at all, Ryan Seacrest stands in front of a darkened studio (though he makes sure to stand off to the side so we're not obscuring the incandescent blue glow of the American Idol logo) and conveys the show's thoughts and prayers that are with anyone affected by the Virginia Tech tragedy. This will become a whole thing later, and I'm going to have to talk about it as it pertains to the states of mind of people on a ridiculous TV show, but so long as Ryan Seacrest is taking a time-out to be serious, I can too: Go Hokies. Of course, even (especially?) in times of tragedy, we can also take pleasure in the little things, like how Ryan still manages to emphasize the right syllables as he somberly tells us "This is American Idol."
After the credits, Ryan reminds us how country music has been "very good to many of our Idols," a statement just vague enough to be true. He doesn't mention, of course, that none of this season's Top 24 were country singers, specifically, so having a country night manages to be more fair (rather than Carrie Blows Everyone Away week) and yet far less relevant. But whatever, gotta persist with the themes. And for a mentor from the realm of country, whom else could they choose but Martina McBride, who I believe was named co-winner of Season 4 along with Carrie Underwood. Her video package offers snippets of songs that sound vaguely familiar to me, and I'm almost certain that's only because I've heard them covered on this show. "When God-Fearing Women Get The Blues" was on this show, right? Probably Pickler. And, of course, "Independence Day," which you only hoped you'd forgotten by now. Indeed, that's the song she and the Top 7 have chosen to sing during their Gather 'Round The Piano time. Martina's pre-advice to the lot of them is that the best country songs sound like conversations, so they really need to understand and feel the lyrics. Which is, in case you haven't caught on, the exact same advice every mentor has offered these kids all season. And if they haven't caught on by now...
Anyway, first up this week is Phil Stacey, who has chosen a Keith Urban song called "Where The Blacktop Ends." I suppose we weren't gonna get out of this show without a Keith Urban song, so I guess it's best to get it out of the way early. He and Martina bond over being fellow Kansans, and Phil tells us that this song in particular reminds him of Kansas, when he used to "play in the dirt" and was a "real country boy." Martina interviews and goes through the entire Phil Stacey Experience in about ten seconds, saying the beginning of the performance sounded stiff, but at the end he pulled out this really impressive note and won her over. That's our Phil, all right. She tells him to bring more of that kind of "soulful" stuff into the earlier parts of the song.
On stage, Phil is not wearing a hat, which, as we've discussed, is a problem for him, vis-à-vis his "light-bulb head" condition. He's also wearing this black shirt with sparkly silver pinstripes, which is actually as "country" as anyone's gonna look tonight. From the beginning, you realize that if anyone's voice is suited to this style of music, it's Phil's. There are no frightening bellows or wading in the shallow end until it's time for the power notes. It's just a confident, reasonably successful country song. He eventually takes off to wander into the audience, which is where his pandering and suck-uppery have been leading him all season. He makes eyes at the ladies with "Phil!" signs, and he trades fives/man-hugs with some dudes who may or may not be friends of his. I kind of suspect they're not friends of his, due to their "o...kay?" reactions to the whole thing. Maybe this is Phil's tribute to Haley's "work the crowd with a fierce desperation" tactics. Of course, it's Phil, so "fiercely desperate" just looks like the same old "I'm just blessed to be here" bullshit, which actually works in his favor, because it doesn't seem like he's panicking. And he had reason to panic going into this week, what with being the only crappy one left whose name isn't Sanjaya. So he continues, getting all finger-guns with Uncle Nigel and Randy, and...I think if you like Phil, it's fine, but if this aspect of Phil -- the neediness and the smarminess; his inner huckster -- bugs you, then this performance would certainly still bug you, despite the fact that he does sound good.
The audience goes PHIL CRAZY for a moment, which, good performance or not, is wholly disproportionate to the situation. It's...Phil. Randy gets all "who'da thunk it?" about how Phil's voice sounds great singing country songs. And while I'd like to bust on Randy for not realizing something that is now very obvious, I can't, because it snuck up on me too. Why wouldn't Phil have tried a country song on us before? Is this a secret, undiscovered talent even to him? Paula is once again on the ball as she tells Phil that it wasn't even a matter of waiting for him to sound good at the end, he sounded good throughout, and that's an improvement, certainly. Phil blows kisses to her and the audience, getting awfully literal with his kiss-up tactic. Simon makes a joke about it only taking Phil ten weeks to get on the stick and says that this is the first week that genre, song choice, and his own brand of googly-eyed "personality" all worked in his favor. Ryan asks what it's like to get positive feedback from everyone, and Phil, interestingly enough, says that it's probably because he just went out there and had fun. He seems to be conceding that while this was a good performance for him, he hasn't done as well in weeks. Which is consistent with the one thing I like best about him, which is his ability to own up when he does poorly. On the other hand, it also lays completely bare the fact that he's been shining the nation on with tales of wives and babies and aircraft carriers and being "blessed" as a way of distracting us from how he's been sucking. Not like we didn't already know that, but we can see that he knows it too.
up, Martina McBride tells us that Jordin has chosen to sing Martina's own "Broken Wing," which I also seem to remember someone singing on this show. Pickler, again? Anyway, Martina says that she can only imagine how nerve-racking it must be to sing a song in front of the person who made it famous, but then we see a very short clip of Jordin doing just that, and all of a sudden it's Martina who looks nervous. Like she might get her license to sing that song revoked now. She does offer the advice that the song "really isn't about moving" so Jordin should feel free to do what she does best: stand perfectly still and belt the shit out of it.
As it happens, that's just what Jordin does. To the point where you could lay an image of her "I Who Have Nothing" performance over this one and they'd match up almost exactly, just in terms how she looks on the stage. And God bless her: if that's what it takes to give the caliber of performance she's about to give, I hope she copies that stance every week. I actually just caught myself watching the performance with my cheek resting on my fist, like I'm eight years old and daydreaming in class. And while her stance mimics the "I Who Have Nothing" performance, there are about a dozen little things she does with her face and her eyes and her voice and her emotions that show a progression. She's becoming a more confident and expressive performer. I have no hesitation when I say that it's the best rendition of this song I've ever heard, by any of the dozen country girls on this show who've performed it, but also by McBride herself. Jordin doesn't really sing it like a country song. It's a Jordin song instead, and I think it's all the better for it.
Jordin's wiping a tear from her eye as she turns to the judges. Aw. Randy tries to play the "That's a hard song to sing, because Martina done sung it, yo" card, which is generally reserved for the Mariahs and Celines and other people whose records he's produced. So I'm not sure if that's a genuine statement so much as Randy opening his phrase book to a random entry and just reading. He missed "Yo Factor" by only two pages; that might have worked better. But he's building to a compliment, so I should just pipe down, huh? He likes how she took her time with the song, and he declares it "the bomb." Paula, again, is right on the mark, talking about how Jordin's facial expressions did such a great job of telling the story. That's exactly right. Simon measures his response out. It is the first time...since he's known Jordin...that he really thinks...based on this performance...that he could see her...winning American Idol. Jordan's face gets bigger than it's ever been in her whole life -- her open-mouthed smile could swallow a farmer's market -- and she ambles over to Seacrest in a daze. Ryan asks her how, at seventeen, she can seem so unflappable. She says the time she normally gets nervous is after the performance. Ryan asks, "Like now," and Jordin starts play-acting and telling him to cut it out. Because she's nervous, you see. I think any nervousness in Jordin gets automatically processed into excitement, which is expressed by all the giggling and smiling and bouncing around that she does. It's like photosynthesis for extroverts. After the break, Ryan promises/threatens, Sanjaya will give us "something to talk about." And then we see Sanjaya. And he looks like Aunt Jemima auditioning for New Edition. Brace yourselves.
Speaking of things on the TV that are guaranteed to make you afraid, we return from commercials to the sight of Constantine's reptilian awfulness staring right back into the camera. For the amount of time that guy spends at Idol tapings, that seat must have a social disease. So: Sanjaya. He's chatting with Ryan by the product placement monitors. The look: jeans, this weirdly rumpled charcoal chiffon-y shirt that looks about two sizes too big for his weak frame, unbuttoned down to where we can see that he's wearing a gold chain. The hair: teased out to here and possibly unwashed, and over it, he has tied a kerchief that has to be chapping Rosie the Riveter's ass but good. The pube-tee is gone too, which is good news for fans of aesthetics, but bad news for people who like to laugh. Ryan's bullshit made-up fan question asks if Sanjaya could force a judge to sing a song, what judge and which song? Oh I wonder. Does Sanjaya give the most gaywad answer possible? Yes, he does. He'd have Simon sing "Shining Happy People" [sic] so everyone could see his true personality. See, if this kid ever heard of Shirley Manson, he could have made an "Only Happy When It Rains" reference and won himself a fan. But he hasn't, so he didn't. The judges all smile and laugh, because Sanjaya's now the kid from the Twilight Zone episode who must be appeased, lest he destroy you with his mental powers. "Ha! Ha! Very funny, Sanjaya! Great quip! Care to sing a song? That was a good song! Please don't banish me to the cornfield!"
Martina McBride is also willing to appease Sanjaya at all costs. She says that his song choice, Bonnie Raitt's "Something To Talk About," is a good one. He tells us that he chose it because "I often give people something to talk about." A lot of people took that statement -- along with a rash of other statements like it through the last few weeks -- as arrogance. I've never seen Sanjaya as arrogant or cocky. At all. He's seventeen years old. That's always been his defining characteristic. If you're seventeen and you have a remarkable talent and a winning personality, you end up like Jordin. If you're seventeen and you go on TV and an entire nation starts screaming about how much you suck and what an annoying, ugly little girly-boy you are, you end up acting like Sanjaya. Which means adopting a "Hey, everybody's got an opinion about me" attitude. Because, honestly? Everybody does. He's not wrong on the merits. So, anyway, Martina once again "discovers" shit we learned weeks ago: specifically, that if Sanjaya would just project his voice more, he'd do a lot better for himself. The performance, as most of his performances have been, is so beside the point that it's barely worth recapping. It's a non-factor at best, terrible at worst. If you stop and consider, you realize that he's actually improved quite a bit from where he was during semi-finals. And it's still leaps and bounds behind where he needs to be. So it's once again shame on this show for putting him in the Top 24 to begin with, but we've gone through this already.
"Keepin' it real," says Randy, "that was bad karaoke, man." Very bland and boring. Randy also returns to his "What are we doing up here?" theme, which is always Sanjaya-specific, but which I think is rather poetic in that it speaks of the function of the judges in all instances. What are they doing up there? Paula giggles that Sanjaya is a kid who loves adversity. "You thrive on it!" she says to him, and she does mean it as a compliment. Sanjaya smiles and rolls his eyes a little, a look that says, "If you say so, but maybe that adversity could have a little less to do with Maxim calling me a fag." Simon -- having given up on reverse psychology, misdirection, double-back juju, and any other method of fooling the voting public into forgetting to power vote that evening -- offers his two-word summation: "Utterly horrendous." More than half the audience, along with...is that Debbie Allen? Is Debbie Allen laughing hysterically at Sanjaya's expense? That is fantastic. Anyway, my point is that even the rabid and brain-dead studio audience has turned on the kid now. All except Ryan Seacrest, staunch defender of whomever Simon hates that day. He chides Simon that even if this wasn't Sanjaya's "best performance," Simon's never liked him, so what the hell? Simon's like "Who asked you to come flying in to defend him?" and even gives Ryan the "to the left..." treatment. Awesome. Even better, Simon flat-out tells Ryan to shut up. Simon tries to explain that, fun and games aside, we're at least pretending to be on a search for the best singer, and Sanjaya's mere presence at this stage is blowing that illusion, big-time. Ryan, undeterred, turns to Randy and asks if mean ol' Simon would ever like a Sanjaya performance, even if he "nailed it." Simon, verbatim: "I liked him last week, big mouth!" I start slapping fives with people who aren't even in the room. Awesome! Randy and Paula run interference for Ryan, who can't defend against the wall of hard scientific fact. So everyone starts talking about the head-kerchief and how it's gonna be all the rage come week. Maybe so, but...aw, I don't wanna ruin it for ya.
LaKisha tells us that she plans on singing Carrie Underwood's "Jesus Take The Wheel." Right then, I knew she was in trouble. It's not that the song isn't cool enough for this show. Or for the people who vote for this show, for that matter. The problem is that LaKisha can't sell it. Strong, belty, emotionally guarded LaKisha isn't going to be able to sell something like "Jesus Take The Wheel." Not to mention the fact that she is guaranteed to compare unfavorably to Carrie, and in case you forgot, the people who vote for this show really liked Carrie. Furthermore, if she was so het up on crashing and burning with a Carrie song, why in the world not "Before He Cheats"? I'd buy that shit coming from LaKisha a hell of a lot more than I do coming from Carrie, to be honest. Anyway, LaKisha name-checks the baby for the second week in a row in describing how she relates to such a "let go and let God" song, and Martina gets the vapors about it. You know it must be crunch time when LaKisha's hauling out the big guns. No, I mean the baby.
Speaking of things guaranteed to make people cry: LaKisha's performance. Oh, is it ever terrible. I honestly don't think it's a genre thing. You can hear parts of the performance that suggest it could have been a very powerful and unexpected vocal. LaKisha is just terribly off-pitch, off-pace, screamy, and emotionally detached. She's usually only that last one. It just gets progressively more awful, and all you want it to do is end. When it does, she knows how bad it was. She gets the same resigned, eyebrows-up, tight-lipped look that I get when I fuck something up. Randy starts to say something, and you can hear Simon off-camera, trying out a line on Paula. Oh, Simon. That's beneath you. The similes are bad enough when we think they're somewhat off-the-cuff. Don't be going to Paula for brainstorming. Randy cites "pitch problems" and says it wasn't his favorite vocal of hers, and the crowd goes fake-crazy with fake-anger. Come on, there's a blinking light that tells them when to boo, right? Simon looks at them all with utter contempt. Paula is reticent to say that Randy's right, but she eventually does so. She says it was shouty, but then adds, "So what?" Ah, that old standby. I wonder if everyone's caught on that when Paula says that, she's calling the audience stupid. Here's that simile Simon was working on: "It's like eating a hamburger for breakfast, it just didn't go together." Yikes. That's like a parody of a Simon comment. Is he cribbing off of Joel McHale now? Furthermore, all this is is an extension of Simon's historical beef with black girls singing country songs. He can't get past the image disconnect. To be sure, it's because he loves R&B music and hates country, but still: it's a theme week. She had to sing country. Don't be a dick. There were still plenty of other reasons she was bad.
Chris Richardson's , and he'll be singing the inevitable Rascal Flatts song. This one's called "Mayberry." He reminds us that his roots mesh well with country music: "I'm from Virginia, I was raised in North Carolina..." See, the show is already prepping us for the Virginia Tech thing. It's not like no one knew this was coming. Martina reminds us that Chris's voice is actually well-suited to country, and to Rascal Flatts in particular, if you think about it. The Timberlakian trilling isn't, though, and I think that's a big part of my problem with the performance. Also: the song is pretty boring, he hits way more off-pitch notes than he should at this stage, and while he doesn't look as disengaged as he did last week, he's still not fully throwing himself into the song. The crowd flips shit for him, as they've been doing all night really, and we get to see the giant Chris R smile, which is nice, considering what's gonna happen. Randy basically hits all the points I did: a little nasally, pitch problems, and a general disconnect with the song itself. Paula tries to sum it up this way: "The joy and the love that you feel onstage didn't come through." Simon twitches at the very words "joy" and "love," because his tiny black heart pumps tar and cynicism and blah, blah, blah. Yes, Simon. We know.
So it's Simon's turn to critique now. Pack a lunch. He notes the audience reaction and thinks that they're listening to different shows. He says he heard a "nondescript, nasally, tinny vocal." He says it was "completely and utterly insignificant." Ryan scurries out and tries to make a joke about Simon's big head (...okay?), but Chris is kind of fired up now. He tells Simon that "nasally is a form of singing. I don't know if you knew that." Simon: "Oh, so that's intentional?" Chris: "Well, if I sing that way every week? That's how I sound." Then, before anyone else says anything, but clearly switching gears, Chris says: "My hearts and prayers [sic] go out to Virginia Tech. I have a lot of friends over there and I just...be strong." At the judges' table, Simon's head is turned to Paula and he rolls his eyes.
Now. At the risk of being accused of playing favorites or making excuses for the cute boy or whatever, here's how I saw that whole mess of a segment. There are at least three things at play here. One is the fact that Chris is correct on the merits, that the way he sings is the way he sings, and Simon's frequent critiques of "nasally" seem to imply that it's a flaw in his performance -- that is, the things which are under his control to modulate and attempt to perfect from week to week -- rather than just who he is. I'm not saying you have to like his voice because he was born that way. But maybe stop telling him to fix it? That being said..."I don't know if you knew that"? Shut up, Chris. Come on. Don't be a snot. That's rule #1. As for the Virginia Tech thing: it had just happened the day before. It was raw. Take Chris at his word that he has "a lot of friends over there," and consider that he's more or less isolated from his family, friends, and home. Add that to the regularly scheduled crazy pressure of being in the Top 7 of the most scrutinized competition in America...the jangle of nerves and emotions going through that kid are not to be brushed off, I don't think. Also, I would bet a thousand dollars that Chris planned on talking about Virginia Tech no matter what, good critiques or bad, and with the runaway train of live TV bearing down on him, it was probably difficult to recognize how pandering that might sound coming off of a fight with Simon, and to put the brakes on the comment. Do I think it ultimately won him more votes Tuesday night? Absolutely. Do I think that was why he said something? I really don't. "I have a lot of friends over there." He's twenty-two. I'm taking him at his word. He's not entirely off the hook, of course. Don't be an asshole to the judges, kid. But there was a hell of a lot going on there.
Anyway, Chris is about to either scream or cry or both, so Ryan hustles us to commercials as fast as he can. These are the times when I kind of like him.
Melinda's up and seated by the product placement monitors. She's had some extensions put back in her hair, I think, which is such a positive development for her. The tube dress over jeans look is alarming at first, but she kind of works it. Better than she has any right to, if you ask me. Her viewer question asks about any incidents with crazy fans. This allows Melinda to tell a charming little story about how some girl on the street saw her, screamed "Oh my God!" and started running toward her. Melinda, fearing that, I don't know, Godzilla was on the loose or something, started running as well. Until one of the Gayles told her the girl probably was freaking out about seeing Melinda. Oh, Melinda. Your humility yields such comedic results sometimes. I'd feel so much pissier about this constant barrage of humility and sweetness and light if Melinda weren't (a) genuinely sweet, and (b) kind of funny. Get a drink in this girl's hand, and I think you just might have an evening of funny anecdotes that kind of poke fun at the Idol experience without being too mean about it. Which is why you'll want to have someone like Gina or Chris around to add the meanness. Because what's a good Sundance anecdote without some petty jabs thrown in there as well?
Earlier, with Martina, Melinda says she's chosen to sing "Trouble Is A Woman" by Julie Reeves. Melinda gives us the selling points: it's a newer song, and it's a bit "sassy." So clearly, Melinda understands that she needs to start moving to younger and more fun ground. Martina tells us that she'd never heard the song before, but that Melinda sure sold her on it. Martina's "feels like the first time" observations: Melinda seems super-shy, but once she starts singing, that all goes away. You don't say, Martina McBride! I'll have to keep an eye out for that. Out on stage, Melinda's a house on fire. She's the only person this week to successfully meld her own style with the country style and really create a hybrid sound that you'd want to listen to on your own time. She's got this hand-on-my-hip attitude that's both "sassy" and "I think this is what I'm supposed to do if I want to appear sassy." Vocally, she's just toying with the rest of the competition right now. She can go places with that voice that no one's even thinking about. Question: rather than suggest that this show is a joke if Melinda doesn't win, wouldn't it be fairer to say that if Melinda does actually win, this show is no longer a joke? Or, rather, would Melinda have to be judged simply too amazing to be felled by the bullshittery of this show? Discuss. Amongst yourselves.
Randy calls it yet another ass-kicking good time from "our resident pro, Melinda Doolittle." Paula hauls out all the clichés, from song choice, to "singing [her] heart out," to singing like there is "no tomorrow." I think it's funny how the better singers inspire the most mundane comments out of Paula sometimes. Simon...well, just from the look on his face, you know Simon is back in love with Melinda after getting that nagging urge to criticize everybody out of his system. But there's still one little annoyance left. "I'm going to compliment you, Melinda, and I'm going to ask you to lose the surprise. Okay? It's like...do 'I know.'" Melinda actually puts on her un-surprised face before Simon goes on. "It was fantastic," he says. You can see the muscles in her face straining to keep her happy smile from becoming too wide-eyed. I don't know. If this is an act, she belongs in movies and not on a stage. Simon actually drops the "Tina Turner" bomb on Melinda, which I guess is the hurdle for Melinda to work on surpassing. But, he reiterates, she really does have to knock off the "Who, me?" stuff. Because we don't want anyone getting sick of her too soon.
After the final commercial, Ryan's in the audience with a harem of indistinguishable blonde Blake fans. Eeeeeee! So let's kick it to Blake then! "This week, I picked 'When the Stars Go Blue' by Tim McGraw." No. False. Untrue. And for some reason, several dozen people felt that my simply calling Blake a liar was insufficient proof that I realized that it is indeed a Ryan Adams song and not a Tim McGraw song. People? I know. I don't know anything about music, but I do know that. I know that it's originally a Ryan Adams song, but I also know that the best version of it was sung by Bono and The Corrs, mostly because I think it works better as a duet. Which is not a slam on Ryan Adams. Just want to be clear on that, since apparently the Ryan Adams people are touchier than the Otis Redding people, the Patti Smith people, and the New Orleans jazz musicians people put together. ["Also? The Jean-Claude Van Damme people. Just trust me. -- Miss Alli] Ryan Adams is great! He sings one of my favorite songs of all time! And he wrote this one here, which I also love a lot! Stop yelling at me!
Martina perpetuates the lie by telling Blake that Tim McGraw himself told her he hoped someone would sing "When the Stars Go Blue." Because he's a big fan of loopholes, perhaps? I don't know. Blake also perpetuates, saying this falls outside the realm of the music he listens to. And maybe Ryan Adams also falls out of that realm, but...look: it's not a country song. It's not a country song even when Tim McGraw sings it. Blake's not breaking the rules here -- Tim McGraw is considered "country" and it's on an album of his and it's all very legit by the letter of the law. But: not a country song. This is all mitigated by the fact that it is, in fact, a beautiful song that I love. So Blake lucked out on this one. The performance is not exactly one of Blake's most exciting, but he does good enough justice to the song that it's one of his better ones. The argyle sweater-vest, on the other hand? Not one of his better ones. Production-wise, the band's going crazy on it, which helps out significantly. He also gets the benefit of the video going all Split-Screen Blake on us, which gives us two Blakes for the price of one. Always a benefit.
Randy likes the vest -- of course he does -- and says that Blake picked the right song as well as the right arrangement for the song, so all in all, it was good for Blake. Paula says he has the "whole package" from the right song selection to "all your little isms" -- I like that, by the way. "Isms." That's way better than "vocal entendres." Simon cools things off a little, saying it wasn't a "jumping out of my chair" performance, but he does, in a roundabout way, allude to the fact that it was probably "smart" of Blake to "not go down a route that didn't suit you." Meaning: way to fudge the theme, shorty. Then, Simon gets serious and wants to "pick up on what Ryan said" (note it's what Ryan said but not Chris) and offer "best wishes and support to the families of this tragedy." The motivations for this are unclear and ultimately become meaningless after what goes down on Wednesday, so we'll deal with that then. Meanwhile, Blake's still on stage, because it's still technically his critique. So he gets to be all, "Way to be a total downer just before they read my numbers, ass."
Rundown! Phil sounding verifiably country but declining to don a cowboy hat to cover that alien dome of his. Jordin hitting one fantastic note out of many tonight. Sanjaya not being long for this show (SPOILER!). LaKisha being so bad that my DVR cuts her right off! Way to mess with the electronics, Kiki. So, there was also: Chris sounding bad and causing a catastrophe afterwards. Melinda being all "capital 'S' Sassy." And Blake being a LYING LIAR WHO LIES. See you tomorrow night, said Ryan. Probably.