10 guys, 8 spots: just be better...

Sixties night didn't do a whole lot for most of the guys last week, so this week the producers decide to fix that. By giving them songs from the 70s from which to choose. YAY!

This week was worse.

Because THIS is American Idol.

And the pack of dudes is clearly aligning into the pimped and the non-pimped, the good and the really ugly. And guys that had impressed didn't. And those who didn't did.

I think I just confused myself.

Alas. Anyway, here are my impressions, a day late but not a dollar short and, as usual, from worst to first, complete with [gap]s to separate their ratings.

Jason Yeager (Long Train Runnin'). Jason introduces us to all of the instruments he has mastered over the years, despite the fact that he's not drug any of them on stage yet. Somehow, after this performance of the Doobies, I doubt that he'll have any chance to drag any of those instruments anywhere but home, even getting the rare Paula pan. There was nothing I enjoyed about this performance, from first note to post-performance interview.

[big gap]

Jason Castro (I Just Want to be Your Everything). I have no objection to a Bee Gees song, even one recorded by the little bro. Ever. (Unless it's Grease, but that's a whole n'other story.) Jason even hauls out his guitar and takes on most of the instrumentation himself. Randy reminds him it's a singing competition and calls his performance karaoke. Actually, I've heard better in a karaoke bar. I adore Jason, but this vocal was so thin and week. Paula suggests he drop the guitar. For once, I agree with Paula.

Danny Noriega (Superstar). After last week's Jailhouse disaster, Danny decides to dip into the ballad bowl and rescues a bit of his pride. Wisely, Danny goes with the Carpenters version of this 70s hit and avoids the inevitable comparison with season two's Ruben. Randy is exactly right, though, when he tells the VFTW poster child that, while the vocal was miles better than his previous outing, it lacked any soul. And, in his post-performance interview, he shows, at least for now, that he's not the complete little hissy-fit-throwing diva he came off as last week.

Robbie Carrico (Hot Blooded). Robbie explains his drag racing addition in his pre-performance clip (and it dawns on me that I already know more about these kids than I learned of all of last year's, but whatever.) He's determined to "prove" he's a rocker, despite Simon's doubts about his true rocker persona. After this performance, even I am questioning Robbie's true musical style.

[gap]

Luke Menard (Killer Queen). Luke, who is hawt, decides to do Freddie Mercury during the semi-finals? He gets points for guts. And despite a panning from Simon, who calls the performance theatrical and whiny (because, perhaps, he's not among the anointed group?) I think it's the best we've heard from him. And, as the third performer of the night, his was the first bright spot.

[gap]

Michael Johns (Go Your Own Way). Michael, who took my performance of the night awards, albeit in a near tie with one of the Davids, said just performing Fleetwood Mac was his dream come true. Perhaps. But that doesn't explain why he decided to phone it in. I did not like any bit of this performance, perhaps because I expect more from him, but it seemed as though he got caught just behind the band and was never able to catch up. He's better than that, and I won't accept mediocrity from someone capable of better.

Chikeze No-longer-Eze (I Believe to my Soul). The orange suit is replaced by a polo and the cheesy lounge-lizard act gives way to a soulful rendition of this Donnie Hathaway classic. He may have just saved himself, at least for one more week. (And yes, Chikeze, we know that's Kenya Hathaway singing backup.)

[gap]

David Hernandez (Papa was a Rolling Stone). Wow. I was not expecting this. David #3 actually impressed me, from all perspectives, and, provided he survives this week and turns in a comparable performance next week, may just make it to the big stage.

David Cook (All Right Now). We learn that David #2 is a "word nerd," who likes crossword puzzles and, one would assume, a cutthroat game of Scrabble. And then we are convinced that he's really the only true "rocker" in the group of guys, slaying this delicious Free classic. (And I thought that even before Randy said it.) And it's David #2 that brings out a testy retort from Simon, that was both ridiculous and unnecessary.

David Archuleta (Imagine). David #1 gets the "pimp spot" and closes the show with a perfectly on-pitch, unique and lovely rendition of John Lennon's signature tune. He clearly wins the night, and obviously has won the hearts of screaming women who are getting on my last nerve. I don't know that I would go as far as Randy in calling it one of the best vocals in the history of the show, but top 25 perhaps. Simon tells him he's the one to beat and, honestly, based on the total performances so far this season, I can't disagree. But it's very early.

So, who's going to leave? If Jason Yeager hangs in there, it will be a crime. I don't think he will survive, and, since I have to predict, I wouldn't be surprised to see him exit stage right with Robbie Carrico.

Tonight the women throw on the polyester and Hustle to the tunes of the same decade. Cool.