the final 8: inspire me...

It was billed as a night of inspirational music. So I fully expected to jump from my chair at the end of the hour, grab my superhero's cape and save the planet.

Saving the planet will have to wait. I went to bed.

After a promising start to this season, it seems we may have hit the plateau, where the show starts to lag a little, the kids become a little more tired and the weeks until the finale seem like years.

Or maybe it's just me.

It was another night of pleasantry, with only a couple of poor performances thrown in, but, as has become the norm the past few weeks, nothing memorable, nothing that I'll be rewatching for days. I want to be grabbed and shaken by the throat again. Is that too much to ask?

But, at least, by the end of the week, aside from being constantly reminded how many gazillions of dollars was raised, we can kiss goodbye to the back-slapping, self-congratulatory thing that is Idol Gives Back. There is that.

So anyway, here are my reviews from the evening, a day late and a dime short, but as always from worst to first:

Carly Smithson (The Show Must Go On). It was Carly at her oversinging angriest. Simon's observation that she lost control of the song was spot-on, and his prediction that Carly could be in trouble is right. I don't know what else to say about this performance except to say that it was a trainwreck. And trainwrecks don't inspire me.

Syesha Mercado (I Believe). This is the seventh season of American Idol. Among the cardinal rules for this show is that an Idol wannabe does not choose to sing the crappy coronation song of an Idol winnerwas. You just don't do it. Just say no. The judges will compare you to the original, and you will pale in comparison. The voters will either be offended that you thought you had the chops to imitate their beloved champ or be offended that you evoked wretched memories of that Idol that they believe should never had made the finals, much less won. You can't win. Enough with the Whitney, enough with the Fantasia, Syesha. You are doing yourself no favors.

Brooke White (You've Got a Friend). I hate saying this, but Brooke is teetering on boring. I like this girl, best of the remaining women, but I knew in my gut that she would find something in the Carole King library to choose. And when one becomes predictable, well, one becomes overlooked. Brooke needs to pull out a performance that forces people to want to vote for her. Instead she pulled out a snoozer that made me want to go to bed instead.

David Cook (Innocent). David #2 has been applauded all season for his "originality," pulling out little-known arrangements of well-known songs to great success. Last night he pulled out a little-known song, which can turn voters off by itself, but, for the first time, performed it weakly, often being completely deluged by the band and enormous throng of background singers. The "read the hand" moment was a nice touch, but the jacket would have been perfect on Beatles night. Luckily for him, he should have enough cash stored in the bank to avoid any trips to the stools tomorrow.

Kristy Lee Cook (Anyway). Who knew? Okay, she's no Martina McBride. Hell, she's not even Martina Hingis, but after a season's worth of less-than-staying-worth quality and countless escapes from the final sing-out, Kristy's was the only performance that really made me smile. Not because it was Grammy-worthy, but because, for her, it was her shining, memorable moment. It will either be a good note on which to leave, or it will buy her a "get off the stool free" card. Which one is yet to be seen.

David Archuleta (Angels). I'm not a big fan of this song, but I did appreciate Archuleta's understated and simple approach to it. His voice was strong, the piano was a good touch and his facial expressions have improved tremendously, allowing his talent to become the focus of the performance.

Michael Johns (Dream On). What's up with the ascot? There was just something contradictory about performing Aerosmith whilst wearing one. But I digress. I don't know why the judges (save Paula) didn't appreciate this outing. I do understand that, in comparison with David Cook, MJ doesn't come off as the true "rocker" of the bunch, and I still don't think we've seen the showstopper he's capable of, but, aside from the Hollywood rounds, this was my favorite Michael moment thus far.

Jason Castro (Over the Rainbow). Okay, I'll be honest. In a wicked, almost perverse way, I was really hoping that Castro would perform this song sprawled out on the floor with bare feet, so that I could erase memories of the last time this song was sung on this show. But, truthfully, I preferred the sprawled out on the stool with a simple ukulele. And after having heard myriad overwrought, oversung versions of this classic, the simplicity of this arrangement was refreshing. It was Jason's best performance in weeks.

So there they are for what they're worth. So now comes the hard part, because going home could be any one of four women.

Who I want: Carly, Syesha, Brooke
Who should: Brooke, Carly, Syesha
Who will: Carly, Syesha, Brooke

Maybe it's just me, but ever since her visit to the bottom three, Carly has had a desperate air about her. She has to know that against the guys, she won't win. But she seems to think she does not deserve to sit on stools. And the minute voters get wind of any sense of entitlement from these kids, the urge to vote seems to wane.

And for that reason, I think Carly's in for the shock of her life.

So. What do you think?