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Wednesday
This show doesn't waste much time, does it? After a brief recap of Season 1's search for a new lead singer for INXS, we go right into meeting this year's band: "Supernova." Don't feel bad if you can't hum any of their tunes, because they don't technically exist just yet. Jason Newsted from Metallica, Gilby Clarke from Guns N' Roses, and Tommy Lee from Tommy Lee are looking for a lead singer, with help from producer Butch Walker, guitarist Dave Navarro, and eye-candy Brooke Burke. It's a world gone mad, really. They're also out to prove that kid gloves can be rock & roll as that's pretty much how they handle the fifteen finalists. Who are as follows: Storm Large from Portland insists that it's her real name and screws up the lyrics to "Pinball Wizard," not that anyone notices. Ryan Star is not Ryan Starr, so he has that going for him, as well as the fact that the judges dig his performance of "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls. Toby Rand is so eager to become a caricature of an Australian that it's a really good thing he's from Melbourne, and he manages to find a way to sing "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" in a way that Gilby hasn't heard and played "a bazillion times." Patrice Pike from Austin pulls off a rendition of Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody to Love" that is, fortunately for her, more Grace Slick than Jim Carrey in The Cable Guy. Magni is from Iceland, and therefore uses his performance of "Satisfaction" to prove that he is diametrically opposed to Björk in every imaginable way (Navarro even calls his bit "Vegas"). Zayra Alvarez, from Puerto Rico via Dallas, picks up the Björk tip that Magni dropped with her Evanescence cover. Jenny Galt hails from "Vancouver, Canada," and for someone as tall as she is, she has a little trouble reaching the high notes on Nickelback's "You Remind Me." Josh Logan came out of the teeming soul scene of Manchester, New Hampshire for the Black Crowes' "She Talks to Angels." Chicago real estate guy Matt Hoffer got tired of trying to get on The Apprentice, so here he is in a rocker costume and wig crooning "Yellow." Originally from Johannesburg, Dilana scares the fuck out of me by singing Nirvana's "Lithium" in the voice of possessed Regan from The Exorcist. Dana Andrews does fine singing "I'm The Only One," and then someone has to bring up the idea of putting a twenty-two-year-old ingénue from Georgia on a tour bus with Tommy Lee, effectively dooming her. Phil Ritchie from Maryland does a Living Colour song, convincing nobody that he's a "Cult of Personality" (he's barely a PTA meeting of personality). Jill Gioia sings "Piece of My Heart" like someone took a piece of her trachea, and I mean that in a good way. Chris Pierson slaughters "Roxanne" so badly that even the judges don't like it, earning him the only real criticism of the night. And then an insane Oompa Loompa named Lukas Rossi belts out "Rebel Yell" in a way destined to make us forgive his regrettable forehead and inadvisable eye makeup. Thursday we find out which three singers got the least votes, and those three will compete to stay in the competition. A few minutes into voting, those three are Magni, Phil, and Chris. If there were a bottom four, the fourth would almost certainly be Chris again.
Thursday
Before we get into eliminations, Lukas does a little shit-stirring over speculation on who will be in the bottom three. Of course, we already know from last night that a few minutes into voting, they were Chris ("Roxanne"), Magni ("Satisfaction"), and Phil ("Cult of Personality"). Brooke notifies those unlucky three, and then tries to crank up the suspense by telling them the names of three other contestants who were in the bottom three at various points during voting. Those other three are Zayra ("Bring Me to Life"), Matt ("Yellow"), and Ryan ("Iris"). Turns out Ryan, Zayra, and Magni are safe, so the other three have to sing songs of their own choosing before Supernova boots one of them. Chris covers "L.A. Woman" by the Doors, which both falls more in his range and explains why he curled his hair. Phil does Switchfoot's "Stars," impressing the judges more than last night. After being told to "bring the rock," Matt kicks out a little Duran Duran, complete with fake British accent. And the song choice gets him booted. Better luck on Rock Star: Bay City Rollers, dude. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Hey, out there, are you ready to rock? I said are you ready to fuckin' ROCK? What's that? I can't hear you! No? You're not? Okay, I'll give you a minute. Take your time.
So, full disclosure: I didn't watch Rock Star: INXS because I was busy with other shows last summer. So I hope to bring an outsider's perspective to recapping this, the second season of Rock Star. Because really, what other choice do I have?
Wednesday
Brooke Burke walks out onto a stage amid a screaming, cheering crowd of maybe several hundred. The venue where this is being held is sort of a combination between a small auditorium and a vampire's lair. Because heavy metal and horror-movie décor go hand-in-hand. It's standing room only, because there are no chairs. People are pressed right up against the edge of the runway that thrusts out into the crowd. And I say "people," but what I really mean are "chicks handpicked to wind up on camera a lot while their boyfriends languish in the anonymous back rows." Brooke asks if we're ready for "another amazing season" of Rock Star, even though it's only my first. And then they play a clip. Oh, good, this is where they recap the whole first season for all the people who didn't see one second of that but plan to sit through the whole thing this year, i.e., me. This will be handy. But then all they show is one moment from last year, the one where J.D. Fortune was crowned the new lead singer of INXS and was then immediately led off-camera to have his belt and shoelaces confiscated. He interviews how cool his new gig is, and then we're moving on. No time, people! Brooke tells us that for this season, they took 25,000 auditioners from around the world and narrowed them down to fifteen finalists. And they just happen to be here tonight, sitting in their own little Peanut Gallery off stage right. I'm really going to have to come up with a more rock & roll name for that little area. Or you are. We'll go with Peanut Gallery for now. The crowd greets the finalists enthusiastically despite having no idea who any of them are. Seems a bit weird to have finalists three minutes into the season, no? Brooke tells the finalists that in three months (really?) one of them will be the lead singer for "the most incredible new rock & roll band to emerge in years: Supernova." More cheering.
A film montage introduces Supernova, narrated by Tommy Lee. Clip of Jason Newsted playing bass with Metallica. Clip of Gilby Clarke playing guitar with Guns N' Roses. Clip of Tommy Lee playing drums with Mötley Crüe. The three of them walk down the street in the present day, looking like they just got mugged walking out of a job interview. Then they're jamming in the studio, and it's actually kind of weird to actually see Tommy Lee behind a drum kit again. Seems like it's been a while since he was famous for his musicianship. He describes Supernova as a "clash of stars." And I have to say that as much as I mock, I must admit that Supernova is an ideal name for this project. You've got "Super," referring to the "supergroup" concept, combined with "Nova," which literally means "new star," who may well end up a "superstar," combined into one word that refers to the most spectacular explosions in the universe. It's perfect, really. Other than the fact that there's already a band with that name, but let's not nitpick. Jason Newsted interviews that he's been friends with Tommy and Gilby for years, and that Tommy called him to ask him to be in his band. Supernova does some more studio work, and producer Butch Walker sits behind the board like I'm supposed to know who he is, which I don't. Gilby interviews that Supernova is not a heavy metal band. Tommy tells us, "We're looking for a rock star." Shots of crowds, Boston, crowds, New York, crowds, London, Reykjavik, crowds, Sydney, Toronto, a bar marquee announcing the auditions, and some face-pierced redheaded chick shrieking "Oh, yeah" onstage tell us what American Idol takes a month to convey: they went all over the world auditioning singers. Gilby says he knows that their singer is one of the finalists. Which is good, because the season finale would be a little awkward otherwise. Tommy tells the finalists, "Hang on, baby. Hope you brought your helmet." Right back at you, dude. Supergroups are a dicey proposition at the best of times, but the fact that nobody's admitting that the driving forces behind this one are Mark Burnett and the Codger Broadcasting System makes this one especially iffy.
Back on stage, Brooke introduces the first three quarters of the band, and Gilby, Jason and Tommy come in, all dressed up and playing to the crowd. They head over to a little seating area at the back of the main floor off stage right, where there are basically a bunch of thrones lined up in front of some kind of rock & roll coffee table, if you can imagine such a thing. Maybe it's called a coke table in this context. Already sitting there is the guy Brooke introduces: Co-host Dave Navarro, his facial topiary as impressive as ever, wearing a tank top that at first glance looks like a crazily tattooed torso. But as we'll learn tomorrow, he doesn't have that many tattoos on his torso. You'll see. Above a caption identifying him, "Dave Navarro - The Panic Channel - Guitar," says that he's psyched to be there.
Tommy Lee says, "First of all, hello, everybody," and gets a cheer like he's handing out checks or something. Which, okay, he probably is. Over a caption identifying him as "Tommy Lee - Supernova - Drums," Tommy points at the Peanut Gallery and tells us again that "one of those guys -- or girls -- is gonna front Supernova." More cheers, especially from the finalists. Gilby ("Gilby Clarke - Supernova - Guitar") announces that Supernova's first single drops in September. Will it be an instrumental? Jason ("Jason Newsted - Supernova - Bass") tells us that will be followed by an album and one show. Wow, a whole show? Tommy clarifies that it'll be a New Year's Eve show at The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas. "It's gonna be off the block," he promises. More cheering. I think I'm about done recapping the cheering already. Unless I can come up with some kind of shorthand to indicate it's occurring. Tell you what: whenever you see a period in these recaps, that means the crowd is cheering. Dave asks Jason what Supernova's going to sound like. Jason gives it some thought, considers, and finally comes out of his chair bellowing, "ROCK AND ROLL!" Greil Marcus breathes a sigh of relief that his job is safe. Before we can get any further into that, Gilby introduces the thirtysomething guy sitting way over on Jason's left: Butch Walker ("Butch Walker - Supernova - Producer"), who is apparently a Rolling Stone producer of the year. Looking a little embarrassed to be there, possibly because he had to leave the house before finding a comb, he remarks that it's not 1986 but 2006 (Translation: "I wish I could just tell you creaky old fuckers to go home"), and that he's "looking forward to doing something really fresh and new with you guys." He flips his cordless mic in the air as everyone cheers. Dave sums it all up for everyone, then returns the floor to Brooke.
Brooke explains the rules: Each week, the "rockers" have to decide amongst themselves which song they'll be singing. Or "rocking," as the case is more likely to be. They are rockers, after all. After the last song, voting opens all over the world, and viewers vote for their favorites. Then the night, the three contestants with the fewest votes have to face off against each other, and Supernova will kick one of them off the show. "By the end of the summer, we will have our Rock Star." End of the summer? Well, don't rush things on my account. Or cheer again. Stop with the cheering. Brooke asks the audience if they're ready to rock. Apparently they are. But first, Brooke asks, "Can a woman really front Supernova?" Well, let's hope so, or else the seven women in the Peanut Gallery are kind of wasting their time. She says that the guys in Supernova say, "hell, yeah," which segues awkwardly into the introduction of Storm Large.
Yes, I said Storm Large. She's a redhead from Portland, OR, and like all the other finalists, she gets a little film montage of glamour shots, narrated by snippets of herself being interviewed. I'm going to call them "monterviews." She starts out by saying that Storm Large is her real name (which I believe, because if you were going to come up with such an obviously fake handle, you'd think of a better one), and says it's handy for her because it helps people remember her. Over shots of her writhing onstage, she rebuts the critics who say she's selling her sexuality by...well, not really disagreeing with them. "I give everybody a good time," she insists. I think she's talking about her performances.
Back at the studio, Brooke tells us that Storm will be singing The Who's "Pinball Wizard," and the House Band hits it. This will probably not be the last time I say this, but that is a hell of a tight band. They get very little attention or even an introduction, at least this week. Seems like kind of a thankless gig so far, considering how hard they work. At center stage, Storm gets all theatrical for the intro, and when she starts singing, she's got one of those big alto voices. She also keeps the opening line, "Ever since I was a young boy," and I'm all for not changing the words to a song just because of the singer's gender. That makes it more distracting, if you ask me. I had to go back and make sure she hadn't done it, so that tells you how not distracting it was this way. Tommy and Jason bob their heads appreciatively as she gets kind of growly on the bridge and messes up the lyrics on the third verse. She does a borderline-obscene gesture on the phrase "crazy flipper fingers" and winds it up with a Daltrey-lite scream. To her credit, her hair's a mess at the big finish. The crowd loves it. Dave congratulates "Stormy" on kicking off the season and calls it "bad-ass." Tommy calls her "Spicy" and leers at her around his toothpick. "Careful, sailor," she responds all sultry-like. Tommy asks why she picked the song, and she says, "Because, Tommy? I am unafraid." I'm pretty sure she's kidding. Liking her so far. Gilby asks whether going first freaked her out. Storm says that she likes being first: "I get a clean mic!" Everyone laughs, the other finalists a little uncomfortably. And Storm's off the stage. So all the judges don't talk every time, like they do on that other show? This is going to be a breeze!
Brooke tells us that Ryan Star, 28, is a philosophy major from New York. She leaves out the fact that he is also not Ryan Starr which is fine, because we can see that for ourselves. Even so, he might want to consider changing that name. Try Storm Large or something. In his monterview, he talks about "honesty" and how rock is not "about the image." Just like you'd expect a faux-hawked, dopier-looking version of Adam Sandler to say. Of course, he's still got one of those wallet chains that everyone else on this show has. Those things are basically neckties for rockers now. He wanders around modeling his acoustic guitar, telling us that he's halfway to "rock star." Meaning the rock half. He's half right.
Brooke introduces Ryan to the audience, and then he's center stage with his guitar, strumming the intro to "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls. You know, that ballad about an angel hitting on a human. His voice seems a little weak on the low-octave opening, but the chorus is stronger, especially since the band doesn't kick in until the end of the chorus. More drama that way. He also ditches the guitar to finish, and heads out to the end of the runway to plead with the audience that he wants them to know who he is. The end is a little abrupt, but he sells it. The audience clearly buys it, and so does Dave. "I totally believed your passion," Dave tells Ryan when he's done. Jason says that he liked Ryan's "versatility" playing guitar, though not so much the looking down at his fretting hand. "But the performance was so good, it captured us," Jason finishes. Tommy mumbles something approving, and Ryan's done. "Way to kick off the show," Brooke says, like, nice short-term memory, lady. She goes up to stand to Ryan as she explains how the viewers can vote for their favorites. I'm not going to go into the details, and I could claim that it's because people who don't watch the show shouldn't be voting anyway, but the truth is that I'm too lazy. Brooke dismisses Ryan back to the Peanut Gallery and goes to commercial.
When we come back, Brooke explains the whole premise of the show to us again, and sends us into the monterview of one Toby Rand from Melbourne, Australia. Blond, beefy Toby surfs, showers, packs, walks down stairs, and looks pretty, all while jabbering away in Australian. Brooke introduces his "special acoustic performance of the Dylan classic, 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door.'" Can anything really be "special" twenty minutes into the season?
Clearly, Toby wants us to think so. He's perched on a stool downstage with the House Band lined up behind him on acoustic instruments. Tommy's nodding approvingly by Toby's second line. One wonders why Toby bothered going acoustic, because he's belting at full volume from the get-go. After the first chorus, he's off the stool, working the runway. The ladies love it, especially when he ends the song sitting cross-legged on the floor. Afterward, Dave asks if it was Toby's idea to go acoustic. "Yeah it was, mate," Toby obligingly Dundees. Dave says that was a good call, since it "really highlighted your voice." Whatever. He was singing so loud that the flight deck of an aircraft carrier would have highlighted his voice. Tommy tells him, "I don't know how I'm going, but I know where I'm going." Rather than asking what the hell the crazy skinny tattooed man is talking about, Toby quickly rallies and says, "Hopefully I'm comin' with ya." Tommy loves that, as does everyone else, and says that "sitting on the floor was a nice touch," and observes that the girls dug it. If any girls didn't, you can't tell over the screaming. Hard to say what the guys think, because we don't see many of them in the audience. Gilby reminds us that he's played that song "a bazillion times," but this was a nice change. Butch actually has a comment for once as he says that something a producer looks for is how someone's voice sounds over the microphone. And then his face scrunches up like he's going to say something uncomfortable, and he says, "It sounds reeeally good." Well, that was disappointing. Aren't they ever going to give anyone a hard time?
Brooke tells us that Patrice Pike has already toured and built up a fan base, then rolls her monterview. Patrice is from Austin, Texas, and even though I'm a big fan of Austin and everyone I know who has ever lived there, I will try not to let her hometown skew my opinion too much in her favor. She hangs around some abandoned service station to a VW microbus, which she then drives away, saying that making the most of this opportunity is up to her.
Patrice sings "Somebody to Love" by Jefferson Airplane, and she appears to have the chops for it. Gilby's even singing along, and Jason worries me a bit when he air-drums and misses a couple of beats. "Rhythm section" is kind a fluid concept these days, I guess. She drapes herself over the lead guitarist for the second verse, which he gets into kind of grossly. She finishes up at the end of the runway with a big smile and a "Yeah!" Dave tells her she killed it. Tommy leers at her as Dave says that he appreciated the way she "interacted with the band." He says that's important with the guys in Supernova, like anybody who tries to interact with them on stage wouldn't risk losing a limb. Gilby loves her vocal tone, and comments that he can tell she really wants the gig. Patrice manages to refrain from draping herself over him, but only because he's a good fifty feet away.
"Ever wonder if Iceland could rock?" Brooke says. "Well, we did." Watching at home, Björk goes, "Hey!" This is by way of introducing Magni, whose current band is number one in Iceland. In his monterview, Magni's bald head and goatee tells us how proud he is to be representing Iceland. Watching at home, Björk's like, "Hey!" Let's hope she gets to guest-judge at some point this season.
Magni got stuck with "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones. Well, somebody had to. The rest of them probably threatened him with deportation. Magni has a nice voice on the first couple of lines, but then it rises into an undistinguished bellow when he tries and he tries and he tries and he tries. He hops and marches around. He kind of bites Patrice's move by singing to the bass player about the "man comes on the radio," although he respects the guy's space. The judges look bored. Long story short, Magni can't get no. No, no, no. Afterward, Tommy asks him how his first performance in the U.S. feels. Magni defers the question to the audience, who seems to have dug it. Tommy wants to say something in Icelandic, and asks Magni how to say "Hello." "Hello," Magni answers, and Tommy laughs, like, "Help me out here, dude." Dave calls Magni's performance "Vegas tip," although Magni good-naturedly objects that he's never been there. Gilby agrees with Dave that Supernova is a "dirty rock and roll band." Then Magni gets to put his arm around Brooke and make gross faces at us. This might be his last chance, after all, since he's the first contestant to hear anything remotely negative from the judges. Brooke again explains how to vote and then sends us to commercial before she kicks Magni in the nuts.
When we come back, Brooke is perched in the comparatively safe space between Gilby Clarke and Tommy Lee as she introduces Zayra Alvarez. It's pronounced Zah-EE-dah, if Brooke is doing it right. In her monterview, the caption identifying her as being from Dallas hasn't even faded when she says she's from a small town in Puerto Rico. She poses like everyone else as I realize that she's pretty much the only nod to ethnic diversity in this group of finalists. I understand that there was supposed to be a sixteenth finalist, a black guy from Australia, but apparently his visa fell through or something and he couldn't make it. Considering the history of treatment of black people on Mark Burnett shows, maybe he should consider that a good thing.
Brooke tells us that Zayra's going to be singing "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence. Unlike the version we're familiar with, Zayra's opens with a little flamenco guitar. Unfortunately, it's like the version we're familiar with in that the opening is all about the voice, and Zayra's is kind of high and thin. She's more about posing in her black unitard and peering out from beneath the bangs of her Xena haircut. Even the band lets me down, because I can barely hear the guy who's singing the Paul McCoy part behind her. Jason headbangs, either because he digs it or because he hopes to strike himself deaf. When she's done, Dave bonds with her over la Raza, and Butch says that she has a "Mazzy Star meets Björk" thing going on. Amazingly, he means this as a compliment. "Very spicy," Tommy leers at her. And Jason drops to one knee and proposes marriage. So much for my other theory about what he was doing.
Brooke leads off the Jenny Galt monterview, the opening of which tells us she's from "Vancouver, Canada" and shows a low-angle shot of a plane flying over her head, as if to say, "See? She's not that tall." She tells us that she made a go of a music career once before, but never really popped and she hopes this is her shot. Sounds like she's paid her dues, at least.
Brooke tells us that Jenny's singing "How You Remind Me" by Nickelback. Here's where I should mention that this week I watched the online "reality" episode, which is basically a weekly behind-the-scenes thing. Apparently it was part of the show's regular schedule on CBS last year, then it got booted to VH-1, and now you have to catch it on MSN.com. I'm not promising to watch it every week, let alone recap it, so don't get used to it. But it's worth pointing out that while all the other finalists were picking out their songs, Jenny was sick (or "sick") in one of the beds of the Rock Star mansion. So Storm brought her the sheet music for "How You Remind Me" and slipped it under the door. A mixed favor, to be sure, but at least Jenny didn't get stuck with "Satisfaction." Jenny takes center stage, wearing a gold Les Paul that's slung lower than the hem of her skirt. Like Storm, she doesn't mess with the gender pronouns, which I'm too struck by her vocal resemblance to Aimee Mann to notice at first anyway. And as much as I think it's an advantage to be able to play guitar when trying out for a single-axe band like Supernova, it's also a drawback for her to be trapped behind a microphone stand the whole time when everyone else has been capering around like madpeople. Also, this is the first time that I wonder whether the contestants get to pick their own key, and then I wonder why she didn't pick a lower one, because she doesn't quite nail the high notes. Like Chad Kroeger is such a helium-voiced crooner. Dave calls it "Hot and sexy and sweet- sounding and all the curves in all the right places," by which Jenny quickly realizes he means her guitar. Because Jenny is not curvy. Dave does give her credit for being able to play comfortably onstage. Jason says that she seems like she belonged there. Jenny agrees.
Josh Logan from Manchester, New Hampshire monterviews that he hopes Supernova will be multidimensional enough to accommodate his soul style. Meanwhile he does rock & roll stuff like sing, play his guitar, get a haircut, and get walked away from by some chick to him at a sidewalk café.
Brooke tells us Josh will be singing "She Talks to Angels" by the Black Crowes, and he does, but somehow he makes it sound like "She Talks to Angels" by Stevie Wonder. He bops his head and smiles a lot, and sounds great. When he's done he gets a standing ovation from the Peanut Gallery. Dave tells him that he sounds "Almost like Chris Robinson went to finishing school." He really likes Josh's vocal tone. Gilby asks why Josh picked that song, and Josh answers that he "feels it." Tommy tells him hat it's an excellent song choice, but Jason asks why Josh thinks he can front "this super-heavy band." Josh non-answers "I think I'll bring that to you guys," which Jason accepts as an actual answer for some reason. But, of course, it's not like Josh can tell the truth, which I'm guessing is that he has no intention of winning this contest and is pretty much there just to get noticed and picked up by someone else. Brooke comes back out and goes over the voting procedure again. Even saying that is starting to feel repetitive.
Back from commercial, Brooke tells us about real estate guy Matt Hoffer, who "traded in his six-day workweek for a six-string guitar and hasn't looked back." In his monterview, Matt stands around dressed like Billie Joe Armstrong, and says that although he was the top producer in his company, he decided to follow his dream. It's kind of weird to hear this motivational-ese coming out from under that chunky black haircut. Besides, he's got the kind of speaking voice that's more suited to The Apprentice. Perhaps tomorrow we'll get a hint of how he might fare in the Boardroom, hmm?
Brooke says he's singing "Yellow." He has a perfectly nice, if undistinguished voice, and doesn't go falsetto right at the beginning like on the Coldplay recording. It's also weird to hear it sung without the title being pronounced "Yell-ah-ow" like I'm used to. The really high notes of the chorus are a little beyond his range, even though he does go falsetto there. Gilby sways his head from side to side looking bored, and Matt finishes up by singing the last line right into the handheld camera at the tip of the runway. Tommy tells him, apropos of nothing, "I mowed lawns and painted houses, which sucked. You did real estate, you're on CBS Rock Star." Because they're the only two musicians in the world who had other jobs or something? Dave tells Matt that he loves the song. "There were a few pitch problems here and there," he adds, "but who cares; it's rock & roll." Oh, come on! Dave tells Matt that time he wants to see him do something "A little bit uglier, a little bit heavier for these guys." Matt says he can't wait. Remember that.
Brooke tells us that the contestant, Dilana, was born in Africa and now lives in Texas. Whoa, don't get too specific with the geography there. Dilana shadowboxes the camera in the wings, and then her monterview tells us that she's from Houston. So clearly, they're going by where the finalists live now. Dilana talks about a poor childhood in Africa or something, but I'm kind of distracted by her numerous facial piercings, one of which looks almost like a fishhook dangling from her bottom lip all the way to her chin. Hate to get that caught on something.
Brooke introduces Dilana singing "Lithium" by Nirvana. She stands upstage in a sleeveless hoodie with the hood up, peering out scarily at everyone. She's got her arms at her sides and has the microphone on a stand. And dude, her voice. I think they actually lowered the key a few steps from the original. Really, all that's missing is yellow contact lenses and an uncomfortable throne, and she would be a dead ringer for Emperor Palpatine. She stands almost completely still all the way through the first two verses and choruses, and then on the bridge she grabs the mic off the stand and dances/lurches/spazzes down the runway like an epileptic tarantula. Jason headbangs appreciatively, while Butch laughs his ass off to him. Half the judges are on their feet. At the end Dave tells her, "That was insane! Awesome!" He compliments her "intensity" while she was standing still. Tommy acts emotionally overcome and sets his cordless microphone down on the coffee table in front of him to wipe away a fake tear. Dilana says something humble, which is a surprise, because with the whole evil emperor bit I kept expecting her to make some comment about "your pitiful little band." and then Brooke is to her, towering above her. Dude, Dilana is wee. She acts all horny and smug about being to Brooke while we get the voting instructions again.
Brooke asks us whether a "sweet twenty-two-year-old who once sang backup at weddings" can front Supernova. This is by way of introducing the monterview of Dana Andrews. But, to paraphrase Tim Robbins in The Sure Thing, not the Dana Andrews who's dead. Looking like she should be playing a high school student on a soap opera, Dana tells us that she's from Augusta, Georgia, and that coming to Rock Star was the first plane ride of her life. Because there always has to be one.
Brooke introduces her singing "I'm the Only One." She doesn't quite nail the sultry part at the beginning, being twenty-two and all, but then on the chorus her voice goes to this big Martina McBride place, rocking Jason back in his chair. Not that they'll ever hire her in a million years. I'm sure she'd be quite a competent country singer, but I don't see Gilby behind a pedal steel any time soon. Tommy looks at the camera like, "Not bad, eh?" After she's done, Dave asks her, "How do Mom and Dad feel about you climbing on a bus for a year with Tommy Lee?" Which makes it funny that she's the first female contestant that Tommy doesn't look at like she's lunch. Dana sasses that she "might be able to keep you guys alive." Butch compliments her pitch, and Jason tells her she has "an incredible gift." She's doomed.
Brooke tells us that Phil Ritchie's musical career began in high school marching band. In his monterview, we learn that he's from Ocean View, Maryland, and even though he could be making a hundred thousand a year as a "lab rat," he thinks there are more important considerations in life than money. What, he's not pulling down a hundred grand now as an unsigned rock singer? Where's the justice? In unrelated news, he's kind of skinny-weasely looking.
But when Phil takes the stage to sing Living Colour's "Cult of Personality," he makes up for it by being not that great a singer. Basically, he goes through it like it's some kind of assignment. We see Dave hollering something in Tommy's ear over the racket, which of course we'll never hear. For some reason, at the end, they keep that little instrumental coda just so he can dance around spazzily for a couple of extra seconds. Afterward, Dave tells Phil that he loves the song and adds that he once toured with Living Colour. I'm sure they'll compare notes later. Dave liked Phil's vocals, but says Phil needs to work on his stage presence. Phil diffidently agrees, which does absolutely nothing for his stage presence. Gilby Randy Jacksons that Phil was "a little pitchy." Tommy calls it a "crazy song choice" and puts everyone on notice that song choice is going to be important. And then Tommy says that he likes Phil's style. "I like you," Phil geeks right back.
The first thing we learn from Brooke about Jill Gioia -- aside from the fact that the "G" is pronounced like in "orgy" -- is that she stands 4'11". I think her mane of wavy blonde hair accounts for roughly a third of her body weight. Brooke tells us that when Jill was asked whether she could handle Supernova, her response was, "Can Supernova handle me?" Well, well. Who's auditioning who, anyway? Her monterview tells us that she's from Long Island, and has always wanted to sing since she was a kid.
When Jill gets to do so, it's "Piece of My Heart" by Janis Joplin, complete with obligatory spangled vest. Her voice sounds like what you'd get if you duct-taped a set of vocal cords to a case of whisky and a carton of cigarettes and set it on a stool in front a microphone. I like it, in case that's not clear. Like Patrice, she "interacts" with the band, but with her it's more like "How's the weather up there?" Dave tells Jill that she did a great job, but there's not much conviction in it for whatever reason. Jason compares her to a stick of dynamite: "small package, giant power." And also potentially a lot of trouble for anyone caught trying to cross the Brooklyn Bridge with it stashed in the trunk of their car. When Brooke stands to her to throw it to commercial, Jill's only about half a head shorter, which we'll have to keep in mind for later.
Okay, it's not that I don't get the point of the shampoo commercials with Mario Cantone as the disembodied voice of the gay friend who tells you the truth about your hair. I just didn't need four of them in a row.
Brooke tells us that Chris Pierson used to be a baseball player, as we see him standing in the wings looking like a poor man's Anthony Kiedis. In his monterview, which tells us he's from Atlanta (is it me, or are Georgia and Texas a little overrepresented in this crowd?), he hangs around on a baseball diamond and tells us that music became an outlet during his arm problems and ensuing surgery. He plays his guitar and adds that what he likes about rock & roll is that you don't have to be perfect. As we are about to see, he must like rock & roll a lot.
Because Chris's performance is just awful. First of all, he's wearing this too-small black-and-white pinstripe outfit that makes him look like he raided the wardrobe for a middle-school production of Guys & Dolls. He picked "Roxanne" by the Police, and it's the kind of ill-advised thing you do at a drunken karaoke night, and then you get on stage and try to pull it off through sheer commitment and cojones, hoping you can play it off as a joke when it inevitably blows up on you. I've heard. Unfortunately, the judges are not amused. Because the song he's bellowing has nothing to do with the "Roxanne" that you and I know. When my band used to cover this, the hardest part was timing when everyone came in. It's a testament to this House Band that they're even able to stay together behind the racket that Chris is making. Even the chicks pressed up against the runway are embarrassed for him. Jason shakes his head, and Butch looks like he's watching a train wreck in the key of G. Tommy looks at Gilby like, "Am I here? Is this happening?" It seems to go on forever. And quit putting your hand on your hip like you're fencing, you clown. After he's done, Dave tells him that it "showcased how limited your range is." Now I see why they've been so nice all night; they were pacing themselves. Jason carefully adds that not many guys have Sting's vocal range to begin with, and it's not clear whether he's trying to cut Chris a break, but he's right; pretty much the only way for most guys to pull it off is to go full-on falsetto or do it in an Argentine-accented growl like in Moulin Rouge. Butch asks Chris whether he changed the arrangement himself. Chris says, "The old arrangement is...not current." If by "not current" he means "nine octaves above my highest note," because on the web episode this week we saw him struggling with the original, "not current" arrangement, trying to find a key that would work for him. Clearly, he gave up. Butch warns him to be careful when rearranging a classic. Gilby's more blunt: "It's cool to take a tune and rock it up...but unfortunately that one sucked." The Peanut Gallery cringes in that way you do when you're secretly glad that you're not the one getting roasted.
Brooke introduces the monterview for Lukas Rossi, a weird-looking little dude from Toronto. He tells us that he was on the street at fifteen, and that he plans to be in a serious band. We see him singing and playing an electric guitar left-handed as he claims he's not putting on an act. Sure, he just rolls out of bed every morning looking like a made-up Troll doll. He sneers at the camera. Think he's going to try to coast by on his look and his persona?
Not really. When he takes the stage to sing "Rebel Yell" by Billy Idol, he's undeniably a charismatic and energetic performer, although even the closed-captioning gives up on his enunciation. Tommy pours Jason a celebratory drink. The other contestants are on their feet as Lukas does a rock & roll spit take and hammers home the ending. Dave gushes, "The fact that I don't know about you yet...it's why a show like this is so important." Gilby says that Lukas made the song his own, and Tommy asks, "Can you say...'rock star'?" and tosses his mic on the coffee table again. I bet the sound guys are going to hate him by the end of this season. Brooke takes her place to Lukas, who's about an inch taller than her if you count his spiky hair (which means he towers about half a foot over dinky little Jill), and gives the voting instructions again.
Then we get a few seconds of each singer's performance. When we come back, they're all lined up on stage in the order they performed in while Brooke does the instructions again, some more, and gives the go-ahead to start voting. Vote, monkeys!
And then we come back one more time, so Brooke can tell us that they have early returns. The names of the initial bottom three appear on screen (in no particular order, as Brooke is careful to tell us) and to no one's surprise, they're Chris, Phil, and Magni. The names only appear on our screens and aren't read out loud so as to keep the contestants in the dark. She tells us that the final members of the bottom three will perform again tomorrow night, and one of them will get booted by Supernova. Who do you suppose it will be? It's hard to imagine how Chris can redeem that "Roxanne" crap, unless someone else seriously screws up.
Thursday
Brooke's wearing a leather vest and denim miniskirt tonight. Not that I'm committing to describing all the clothes on this show, because I'm not. These people all look like getting dressed every day would be exhausting, but that's nothing compared to what putting their ensembles into words would be like. Brooke explains the premise of the show, in case you're new here, and points out the finalists sitting in the Peanut Gallery. Chris's hair is curly tonight for some reason, but at least he doesn't look like the Amazing Colossal Nathan Detroit any more. Brooke reintroduces the members of Supernova. Looks like Butch decided to take the night off. She also introduces Dave Navarro, who this evening is working a tuxedo jacket with no shirt. What does he think this is, casual Friday? Brooke asks Tommy what he thinks of the night's show, and before answering he says, "First of all, hello everybody. How are you?" Everybody cheers because he can make even that sound rock & roll. Tommy says that last night's show was great, and if you missed it you suck. Whew, glad I didn't miss it, then. He pitches the importance of voting and throws it back to Brooke, who says that it's their first elimination show: "For one of these fifteen rockers, a dream is about to end." And so is a nightmare for the rest of us, if all goes well. She explains that the three contestants with the fewest votes will perform for Supernova, who will then send one of them home. But since we're only three minutes in, we'll have to wait a while to find out who the bottom (Chris) three (Chris) are (Chris, Chris, Chris).
Instead, we get some "reality-show" footage from the "Rock Star Mansion" in Los Angeles. This is the house where the finalists are living during the competition. Basically, it looks like Ozzy's house if Sharon and the kids weren't around, except with an invisible but crackerjack housekeeping staff and no dog poop. They all drink champagne out of red goblets, and Lukas toasts, "May the best person for the job come out on top." Catchy. Then there's a shot of the contestants "finding" a room in the mansion where the sheet music for fifteen songs are tacked up to a fancy bulletin board. So it's not like people had a lot of songs to choose from; every song we heard last night was going to be sung by someone. It was just a matter of whom, which the contestants had to figure out amongst themselves. We now learn that both Patrice and Josh wanted "She Talks to Angels," for instance. Josh interviews that nobody really took it seriously, and we see them settling disputes with such diplomatic means as rock-paper-scissors, push-ups and arm-wrestling. Without any context, it almost looks like Phil won "Cult of Personality" from Dilana via this last method. We don't see, but you can guess, that all of the rock-paper-scissors face-offs must have ended in stalemates because everyone in the room would always pick "rock." Ryan interviews that song selection will get more serious after people start leaving. But will they still get fifteen songs? Then Brooke brings us up to last night, reminding us that Butch was there without explaining why he's out tonight. We get clips of the performances by Storm, Toby, and Dilana, whom the judges and crowd loved. And then Phil and Chris, who, not so much. Then there's a clip of Lukas performing, and Tommy's calling him "rock star." So, we're done, then?
No, we're not. Brooke asks Dave if he and the guys have "any more thoughts about last night's show." Dave disappoints me by saying that they do. I think it would be funnier if he'd just said, "No, not really. You?" Instead, he asks Chris whether he has any regrets about his performance of "Roxanne." Chris insists that he doesn't, and that the reason he chose it was to step out of his comfort zone. Dave concedes that rock & roll is about taking chances, which Chris certainly did. And not being perfect. Don't forget about not being perfect. Chris did a lot of that. Dave asks Phil whether he's going to be taking song selection more seriously after last night. Phil says yes, and excuses that the first time around, he and the others weren't comfortable enough yet with each other to really get into it: "I'm not saying I'm going to punch anybody in the face. Except for Lukas." Nobody really laughs, because a) it's not that funny unless you know what the contestants know; and b) it's not that funny to the contestants, because it's true. Lukas smirks at the camera, and Dave throws it back to Brooke, who introduces a little more mansion footage.
The finalists went back to the mansion after last night's show to celebrate, and we see Patrice crowing "I killed it!" She might be quoting Dave, of course, not that we get that context. Dana claims not to have been nervous, and Chris is just a big ball of hurt feelings right now. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't one of the best singers in the world," he interviews. I would speculate that his presence in the final fifteen might have something to do with his looks, but that doesn't really hold up either. Later, everyone's sitting around, and Lukas fixes Dana with a sneer, calls her his "beautiful Southern belle," and asks her who she thinks will be in the bottom three. Dana goes completely deer-in-the-headlights and says that she has no idea how America will vote. Chris, by the way, appears to have Hulked right out of his too-small clothes at some point. Matt tells Lukas to answer the question himself. Lukas blabs about his own talent, but everyone starts ganging up on him to answer his own question. All we see is Lukas telling Dilana she sucked, as meanly as he possibly can. Like he's actually angry at her or something. Surprisingly, Dilana doesn't get up and rip his face off. Is little Lukas feeling a little threatened, maybe? He interviews that if people get "stepped on," they shouldn't be there. Which is funny, because then we see that it was Lukas who was driven from the room by everyone else's general disapproval. Call me cynical, but it looks to me like Lukas is just out to make sure he gets as much screen time as possible. I can't help wondering if he has his sights set on something besides Supernova, because a big part of being in a band with people is dealing with their personalities, and I don't see why else Lukas would be so keen to show the guys what an arrogant little cockslap he can be. I'm also working very hard to not formulate a theory as to how he ended up on the street at fifteen.
Back in the studio, the other contestants pretend-beat on Lukas, who grins at all the attention he's getting. Dave takes a turn asking Lukas the question. Lukas tries to evade a bit, but then he goes on at length that one of them knows, since he said it to her face. I think he's referring to Dilana. He calls Chris's "Roxanne" gambit "gutsy" if poorly thought-out, says that Dana isn't up for hanging with Supernova despite being a "great singer," and adds that he didn't think much of Jenny's performance. That's four, dude. And that combined with a certain moment from the online reality episode makes me kind of wonder if maybe Lukas doesn't have a few issues with women. Or at least women rockers. "That's just my opinion," he disclaims. "Don't let it sway your opinions, guys." Everyone laughs that that even occurred to him. Dave tells him, "Good for you, bringing it honest-style." Dave asks Jenny how she feels about hearing that from a fellow Canadian, like he expects one of them to secede over it or something. Neither of them does; Jenny just gives a toothless rebuttal. Dave turns to Chris, mocking him as "the self-proclaimed 'one of the world's greatest singers.'" Chris repeats his point that if they weren't good they wouldn't have made it through the audition process. "Right on," Dave says, and asks Dana's reaction to being put on the spot. Dana compares it to getting a steak knife in the heart, because she's twenty-two-years-old. Lukas looks extravagantly bored by the very sound of her voice. Dave gives the floor to Matt, who carps a little about Lukas's reluctance to answer his own question. Dave points out that Lukas did eventually answer it, then reminds everyone that what with it being a competition, "Things are gonna go down." In other words, keep watching, everybody.
Just going to take a little sidebar here to note that this whole group-interview thing has Mark Burnett's fingerprints all over it. I wonder if Jeff Probst is sitting at home watching and thinking, Damn, this untrained rock musician is making my job look way too easy. We'll be able to tell by whether the season of Survivor finds him saying "Right on!" a lot.
Tommy announces that they're requesting an encore performance from one of the finalists, and says that they want to see Dilana again. Dilana stands up amid cheers and returns to the stage. She does exactly the same thing she did last night, except that this time she's wearing a hoodie with flared sleeves, which allows her to spread her arms and look like a giant bat. The end. And everyone loves it again. After she's finished accepting her adulation from the crowd, Brooke comes out to stand to Dilana and say, "I'd like [to have] half of that energy." We'd like that too, Brooke. And then she brings the room down by informing Dilana that the encore request doesn't mean she's safe from the bottom three. And then she sends Dilana back over to the Peanut Gallery.
Brooke tells us that although the onscreen captions last night told us who was in the bottom three a few minutes into voting, the finalists have no idea which of them were in trouble. Because the Rock Star Mansion doesn't have a TV or the internet, I guess. Can't tell you how freeing the latter is for me. Brooke tells the finalists to stand up if she says their names, and again says the names are in no particular order. A sad/suspenseful piano tune drifts across the studio as Brooke tries to let the suspense build. She does this by counting to five in her head between each name: Magni, Phil, and Chris. Only Chris gets a sympathetic groan from the crowd as he gets to his feet. Or maybe it's a sigh of relief. Brooke asks us if they were still in the bottom three after voting ended. How are we supposed to know, stupid lady? She promises we'll find out after the commercials.
Coming back, Brooke plugs some v-cast wireless phone Rock Star thingy you can get with even more Rock Star footage. Because the three hours I've already spent watching this just aren't enough for me. Then she tells the initial bottom three -- now standing together behind the Peanut Gallery -- that the bottom three changed (ooooh!) over the course of voting. Brooke again tells the finalists to stand if she says their names. Suspenseful piano plays as Brooke says Zayra's name almost right away. The pause before Ryan's name isn't much longer. But then she remembers to count to five before the last name: Matt. So that's Magni, Phil, Chris, Zayra, Ryan, and Matt standing, which leaves the other nine safe. Eight of them look pleased and relieved, except for Lukas, who looks grumpy that he won't be getting much more screen time tonight. Brooke addresses the bottom six (which, I know, they're not necessarily the bottom six at the end of voting, but that's what I'm going to be calling them now and throughout the season, so deal). She tells them that if she says their name, they're in the final bottom three, and they'll have to sing another song for Supernova. And then Supernova will boot their least favorite. The suspenseful piano returns. Before announcing the first contestant in the bottom three, she counts all the way to ten. Or else she forgets what comes after five.
And the first name is Chris, who joins her onstage to the sound of another sympathetic groan and a smattering of polite (or relieved) applause from the crowd. Chris joins her onstage as she introduces a clip of his "Roxanne" performance and the feedback he got last night. The performance is still more painful than the feedback. After that's over, Brooke yields the floor to Gilby, who asks what Chris is going to do to change people's opinion of him. Chris says that he's going to do "one of [his] favorite, favorite frigging songs in the world: 'L.A. Woman' by the Doors." And now I suddenly know why his hair is curly tonight, and I'm embarrassed for him all over again. Gilby says that it's a good choice, and asks why Chris picked it. Chris gives a little speech that it was one of the songs that got him into rock & roll, and how it's about "not giving a damn what anybody says about you, just be yourself and rock out." Everybody cheers, to what is no doubt his great relief. Gilby says, "Point taken," and cuts him loose.
And I have to admit that Chris's "L.A. Woman" is way better than his "Roxanne," but then so are the noises my cat makes at 4:00 in the morning. It's not bad, but compared to last night it's great. The other bottom five stand bobbing their heads nervously, uncomfortably aware that tonight's "most improved" title is going to be tough to nab. Chris rolls around on the runway, singing right into some poor chick's face, and wisely omits the "Mr. Mojo rising" bit at the end. And then he takes a swig of water and spits it out over the crowd. Good thing they're not the ones voting. Brooke takes us to commercial again.
Brooke comes back and explains the premise of the show again, and the whole bottom three thing. She lets the pause draw out again, and then says Phil is the second member of the bottom three. Which means that so far it's the same as it was last night. Phil mock-cringes and comes to stand to Brooke, while Tommy watches, nervously twisting the little flavor-saver at the bottom of his chin. Phil "cracks," "I just wanted to come up here." Brooke says, "I'm glad you did. Not for this reason, though." Smooth banter there. Those two should be Oscar presenters. She introduces the clip of Phil's "Cult of Personality" performance, followed by the judges remarks. At the end of the clip, Brooke asks Tommy whether it's still all about the song choice. Tommy says that it is, and asks why Phil picked the Living Colour song. Phil claims that he "wanted to come out with a heavy-hitting rock song," and adds that he'd never sung it before, but thought he could handle it. "I don't think I sucked," Phil adds, causing Tommy to frantically backpedal over the sound of cheering. We get a shot of Chris looking pissy, like, "So only I sucked, then?" Tommy asks what Phil is going to sing, and Phil says that he's singing "Stars" by Switchfoot, because he looks to that band for inspiration. Tommy says that he loves that band, and tells Phil to "bring it."
I'm actually kind of amazed that we got this far into the competition without someone doing a song I don't know. That streak's over, I guess. It's actually an interesting change for me to be able to judge a singer without constantly comparing it to the original in my head. And I like the song, but I'm still not all that impressed with Phil. He seems more comfortable with this style of song, but his transitions between notes are kind of weak at times. The remaining bottom four look a little more nervous. Tommy's clearly digging it a lot more than the other two judges, and Phil wraps it up with a big scream. Cheers, as always. Brooke joins him onstage, where he slings a mock-cocky arm around her and gets all in her space as she tries to do her job, which is telling us not to go anywhere. Don't worry, Brooke. I'm getting paid. Feel free to give Phil an extra kick in the nuts for me, if you like.
When we come back, Brooke is back onstage and Phil and Chris are standing at extreme stage left, which I guess is where the bottom three go when they're done. After some more explanation, Brooke says about the identity of the final member of the bottom three, "Let's end the suspense." But then she takes forever saying Ryan's name, and not much less time telling him to sit down because he's safe. Ooh, the suspenseful piano's back again, if a little belated. Brooke tells Zayra that she's safe, which leaves Magni and Matt. And after almost a full minute of suspense, Brooke says Matt's name and tells him he's the final member of the bottom three. Never underestimate the power of the Icelandic voting bloc.
Matt walks to Brooke's side, where she plays a clip of Matt's performance of "Yellow" and the judges' feedback thereof. In case you forgot, Dave told him that he wanted Matt to perform something "heavier" time, and Matt said he couldn't wait. I know this is earlier in the same recap, but it's important, okay? When the clip's over, it's Jason's turn to grill a contestant. He starts by saying that he personally loved Matt's performance. Indeed, Matt got the kindest judging last night of any of the bottom three, which probably means that it's his to lose at this point. Jason asks what Matt brought in the way of something heavier, and Matt is rightfully embarrassed when he says that he brought some Duran Duran. Jason strokes his chin doubtfully as Matt babbles defensively that he thought he'd crank up the drums and guitars and tune the guitars down to D to make it more rockin'. Jason says that that's not really their speed, but he resolves to give it a chance and practically begs Jason to "Please, bring the rock."
And then the House Band kicks into "Planet Earth." Which is a place that Matt should have done a little research on before showing up tonight. Come on, dude. I can almost see a case for "Hungry Like the Wolf," but this is embarrassing. Especially with the fake British accent he's using. The judges look puzzled, if not downright irritated, because unlike Matt, they're old enough to remember that Duran Duran was the Backstreet Boys of the eighties. And jumping jacks? That's not even rock & roll when David Lee Roth does it. Dave watches Matt like a Roman emperor at the arena just before the tigers come out. Over at stage right, Phil and Chris are getting into it because they know that they're safe. And the band does their best to rock it, but you just know that the minute this is over, they're all going to be taking their D-tuned instruments and backing slowly away from Matt like the Evil One's minions in Time Bandits. He screams an ending, and then Phil and Chris join him onstage to wait as Supernova confers and Brooke sends us to commercial.
Maybe I'm being a little hard on Chris. I'm assuming that all fifteen contestants had a second song in reserve even before last night's show, and it's entirely possible that Matt didn't have time to change his and rehearse something new with the House Band after last night. But dude, when you're the one who ends up with "Yellow," you've got to know that if you end up in the bottom three, the judges are going to want to see if you can rock out with your cock out. Duran Duran? Not so much.
The judges are still in a huddle when we come back, but you just know that at this point they're discussing where to go for dinner afterward. Brooke explains to us once again how we got here, and gives the floor to Supernova to announce who they're sending home. Jason starts out by warning the whole Peanut Gallery that any of them could have been in the bottom three this week, and that they've all learned the importance of song selection in this competition. Well, fourteen of them have, anyway. He says that week he wants them all to pick a song that's right for them and "bring it to us." I'm wondering whether the judges have anything whatsoever to do with compiling the list of songs the contestants have to choose from, or whether Burnett's staff is deliberately throwing in songs that are completely inappropriate for this competition just to make the contestants fight each other to stay away from them and thus generate more drama. Wait, now that I've said that, I'm not wondering any more.
Gilby says that they're going one by one, and starts with Chris. He compliments him on his song choice and says that he did what he was supposed to do, although they still aren't all that impressed with his vocal range. To Phil, Gilby says they liked Phil's vocals, but not so much his overall performance. And then he smirks to Matt and says, "Duran Duran. We question your song choice tonight." Matt says that he understands, and asks for another chance to "bring the rock." He's probably got an Osmond Brothers number in mind that he plans to fucking hammer. Now it's Tommy's turn to tell them who stays and who goes. He says, "Phil?" and starts playing with his left eyebrow. Time stretches out. When only Tommy's right eyebrow remains, he smirks, "You're safe, baby, sit down." Phil acts relieved, hugs Matt and Chris, and heads back to his warm reception at the Peanut Gallery. When the applause dies down, Tommy tells us, "I hate this." I actually kind of believe him. He's the Anti-Trump. Perched with his feet in his chair, he talks to Matt some more about song choice, which in Matt's case didn't cut it: "You're the first to go. I'm sorry."
Long hug between Matt and Chris, and the whole Peanut Gallery is like, whoa. Matt is left alone at the end of the runway, and the Supernova guys are on their feet clapping. When they sit down again and the crowd quiets, Dave gives Matt a chance to say something to the guys. Matt emotionally starts that when he was growing up all three of the judges were on his wall. "Now you're making me feel bad, dude," Tommy says, instead of asking whether Duran Duran was on Matt's ceiling. Matt says that he thinks Tommy's gotten a "bad rap in the press" (Press? What press? Tommy gets press?) and then the Peanut Gallery is up on its feet, applauding for him. Matt adds that he doesn't mind losing to them, but Tommy interrupts him and says he didn't lose: "Another time, brother. No losers here." Matt asks if he "can go say goodbye to my friends," and Tommy cuts him loose before everyone starts crying.
As Matt works his way through the Peanut Gallery, Brooke gives her closing speech about voting, and all the other end-of-episode housekeeping stuff. The closing theme is, one assumes, the future Supernova single. I'd try to describe it, but I'm not any good at that kind of thing and you'll hear it soon enough anyway.
Because it's a Mark Burnett show, we need to have a post-eviction interview during the credits. But Matt already had his say, so it's Phil's and Chris's turn. Phil says that he doesn't know what he did wrong to land in the bottom three, but he's going to be more serious about song selection for this week. Chris says that he's bummed about Matt going home, but that he's learned his lesson about choosing songs that fit his voice and personality onstage. "I'm not going home yet," Chris says. "I'm not giving up." Don't remind me.