I’m a little late to the game (and the season and this episode), but now I’m coming at you with the best and most honest review of American Idol you will find anywhere on the web. Nothing but the facts, ma’am.
And away we go…
Chikezie, long lost Nigerian twin of Alfonso Ribeiro’s character Carlton from “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,” is up with “She’s a Woman.” Taking a page from the Kat McPhee page of musicians on stage, I see… although, thankfully, he is not wearing a yellow dress that flashes his panties.
Little known fact: Chikezie wears pretty panties. Frilly ones even. He likes the way they split the boys.
Regarding the performance… well, ok. It was loud. It was upbeat. It was not that memorable to me. (Zombyboy disagrees).
Randy and Paula are hitting the bottle.
Paula makes a bold statement: “Those who take a risk will reap a reward, if the risk works out.” Kind of like how if you buy a lottery ticket you can win the lottery, if your ticket is a winner. Genius!
Simon got into some crack too. So to speak. Not that he’s gay or nothin’. I guess. I wouldn’t know. Although, there was that one time in Bangkok.
Ramiele Malubay sings my favorite Beatle’s song, “In My Life.” And this arrangement has sucked the tenderly reminiscent life out of it, sounding more like Bryan Adams’ “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?” than what it’s supposed to be.
Randy calls it. Paula leads in with the “gosh, you’re pretty” bit of damning praise. Simon has it right, except for considering the original song boring. Now, it’s not something you’re going to play at a party (except if everyone is drunk and crying in a bottle), but it has its place.
Sorry, missed this guy’s name because the wee Fiona was having a fit.
Oh, there it is: Jason Castro.
She’s very pretty.
(Sorry, I missed all the singing. See the Fiona comment above).
Next up: Carly Smithson performing “Come Together.” And apparently in need of a good hair washing.
The judges liked it. I found it… rather dull. But this might be a case where the studio sound is better than my “upstairs bedroom television complemented with screaming children” sound.
David Cook sings “Eleanor Rigby.”
I really, really hate it when musicians smash guitars (or other instruments). Have I mentioned that?
I enjoyed the performance, although the breakout on the chorus was all too predictable. And the “horns” gesture, apparently a sign of his rockin’ metal cred, was just silly in such a song.
Brooke White sings “Let It Be,” with the philosophical insight that sometimes you just have to let it be. And what goes up comes down. And blondes have more fun.
I like that she can actually play an instrument or two. The performance was solid and acceptable, even if only because following McCartney’s footsteps on the piano don’t leave a lot of room for showmanship in this song (nor, in such a style, would it call for overt showmanship). However, she did it justice, I think.
David Hernandez takes the stage for “I Saw Her Standing There” and refuses to hit the high “hoooooo” notes himself, despite going all over the place with his vocals. He also gets drowned out at parts by the lead guitar. And it was lackluster. And, um, sucky.
Randy: not impressed. Paula loves his voice, which means “it sucked.” Simon is short and to the point.
Oh my god, there’s an Amazonian woman about to crush Ryan! Oh, sorry, that’s Amanda Overmeyer, who really needs a new hairstylist, because that’s awful.
Anytime someone says they’re gonna “rock it up a little bit,” I begin to worry.
But for no good reason, it would seem, as Amanda made “You Can’t Do That” something worth paying attention to (despite some hard-to-understand lyrics). She’s got style and power and it won’t be long before her recording contract with the folks behind American Idol suck that right out of her.
Hey, he can play basic chords, welcome Michael Johns to the stage. “Growing up in Australia, music was just so important” to him. Because all Australians are musical prodigies, apparently. Such prodigies that he puts the guitar down for “Across the Universe.”
Isn’t it sad when the hand-waving (sans lighters) groupie-wannabe’s can’t find the rhythm of an acoustic song?
Aside from that, wake me when it’s over.
Christy Lee Cook sings “Eight Days a Week.”
Wow, is she totally off the beat? What the hell is going on? This is a trainwreck. Kaboom!
But she’s still tasty hot. And because I know what is important, if I actually cared, I would call and vote for her.
Did David Archuletta just forget some of the lyrics to “We Can Work it Out?”
Paula confirms he did. For shame.
At least he has the Rick Astley vote, so he’ll probably be around next week.