10-1=9: a SIMULBLOG!...

Last night they celebrated their birthyears (and Jason his birthday) but tonight it's a funeral as one of the 10 becomes a memory until the finale.

Because THIS is American Idol.

And hopes and dreams die here.

And this is a SIMULBLOG where the typing is happening fast and furiously while the action is unfolding on the East Coast, with a publish at every important break, so if you want to know, stick around and chat. If you want to wait, leave. Leave now. Run. Do not walk.

But run back to dish the dirt with the rest of us.

Because the show's about to start!
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Ryan has the kids lined up on the stage, asking which one of the ten is gonna sing over the credits tonight. Kim Locke is in the house (YAY!), we're promised a behind-the-scenes something and yes...more phone calls.

And they begin the night with yet another pitch to the songwriters everywhere to submit their recipes. Uh, I mean syrupy ballads.

It's a GROUP SING, complete with chest bumps and the cheeziest of choreography. The more cheeze the better! YAY for the cheeze!
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We get to watch the kids as they record their iTunes studio versions. They're cute as they record their singles, and we find out that Ramiele has downloaded David, Michael and Jason. I wonder if she had to pay a buck each.

Probably. Idol is cheap.

We are treated to last night's recap which goes on for longer than last night did.

And we're on it...

The sofa means safe. The stool means they're possibly in the toilet. (Sorry.)

Chikezie is called out first. He's terrified. He gets his reviews and is sent to the stool.
Here comes Brooke White. She defends her use of the band despite the criticisms. She's sent to the sofa of safety.
Carly Smithson is summoned. And after a discussion about pregnancy and Spanx, she's told she's safe and runs to the safety of Brooke's arms.

And it's time for commercial.
_______

That was an interesting crappy Ford commercial.

David Archuleta is called to the stage. And not surprisingly, he's safe.
David Cook has something interesting and curious hanging from his waist. He's told to head to the sofa.
Syesha Mercado is brought out. She's reminded that she got great reviews and is told to hit the stools with Chikezie.
Michael Johns appears. Then disappears to the sofa with the good people.
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Dolly Parton is scheduled to be here next week. That means only one thing. It's COUNTRY NIGHT. YeeHaw! Kristy Lee, you're gonna be safe again!
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We're back and the idiots are line six. And as much as I hate these phone calls, it's better than somebody pimping a CD.

Unless it's Kimberley Locke. YAY! I love her! She looks FAB. And sounds terrific. Welcome back Kimmell.
_______

Ramiele Malubay is called to the stage. She's told she's safe.
Jason Castro and Kristy Lee Cook step to the stage together. They are reminded of their reviews. America voted and sends Kristy to the safe sofa and Jason to the bad stools.

Jason is joined by Syesha and Chikezie. Jason talks far too much until Ryan shuts him up, sending him to the sofa. Chikezie whispers sweet somethings in Syesha's ear as we're sent to this word from your sponsors.
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The highest single show vote this season sends Chikezie home. He listens as Ruben sings him home and watches as we remember his journey.

Ryan thanks half of the world and Chikezie sings us into the credits.

So long Chikezie. You are cool.

screams, queen and billie jean...

The ten finalists dug through the musical history books Tuesday to scour the charts on a very special year: the year of their birth. Our present? A night of 80s music with a 70s song and a 90s number thrown in for spice.

And our gift? A night of pleasant performances and the resurrection of Kristy Lee Cook. At least for now.

In a group this deep of talent, no one stood out as being the absolute worst - except, perhaps, the increasingly-annoying-screaming-waving "mosh pit" and the jewelry box that vomited all over Paula.

But here are my opinions, a day late and a dime short, and as always from worst to first:

Ramiele Malubay (Alone). Ramiele, we found out post-performance, had lost her voice, so even though sick puppies don't normally get sympathy from the judges, I give her some leeway. Told the song was too big for her, I can't help but agree, and, in the inevitable comparisons with Carrie Underwood, who turned this song into her season four signature, the short one pales in comparison.

Chikezie No-Longer-Eze (If Only For One Night). Chikezie admits he knows it's a risk to pull another ballad out of his hat after the disaster of the orange suit, but decides to do it anyway. And while it's not bad at all, it doesn't have the "sit up and take notice" vibe that this guy, of all the guys, needs to hang in there much longer. He has to know he's on borrowed time and that it's in his best interest to perform like there's no tomorrow. And there may not be.

Kristy Lee Cook (God Bless the USA). Simon calls her song choice the most brilliant in possibly forever. And despite the traditional flat notes, she turns in her best performance of the season, surrounded by images of flags and amber waves of grain. Who doesn't love a good, old-fashioned, apple pie patriotic moment? Kristy, you're safe.

Carly Smithson (Total Eclipse of the Heart). Carly appears still stunned over her appearance in the bottom three the previous week. The judges pick up on her "tenseness". I sensed a bit more desperation in this performance than I've seen in the past, and that final run to wrap up the performance was really not necessary.

Jason Castro (Fragile). Simon calls this performance Jason's second poor one in a row. I don't think it was quite as high on the bad meter as last week, and even Jason admits he should have practiced the guitar more. He's accused of not taking the show seriously, and I can see the merits in that accusation, but Jason's style is his style.

David Archuleta (You're the Voice). David #1 could use some tips on working the stage, but he's making vast improvements on some of the facial distractions, so that's a good thing. Paula tells him he could sing the phone book, and she's probably right, but Simon calls his song choice crappy and one better suited for a theme part, and he's right too. David, wasn't there another song from 1990 that you could have chosen?

Syesha Mercado (If I Were Your Woman). When I hear this song, I think, of course, of Gladys Knight. And while this arrangement left me wishing the Pips would jump out from the band rafters (or up from the annoying moshers), the judges were right in calling it Syesha's finest vocal performance of the season.

Brooke White (Every Breath You Take). After an initial oopsie, that wisely causes her to stop and restart, Brooke pulls off a soft version of this Police classic. The judges praise and pan the performance, praising the front part which featured just Brooke and her piano keys, but panning the second half when Ricky Minor brings in his band, increasing the tempo.

Michael Johns (We Are the Champions). The first time Michael made a huge impression on this show was with the Queen classic Bohemian Rhapsody during Hollywood week. So after being told he still hadn't found his premier song, he decides to dip back into the Queen catalog and turns in his best performance to date. Finally the Aussie makes an impression, after standing the shadows for all these weeks.

David Cook (Billie Jean). Yes David #2 turns in another cover of another cover. And yes, the judges fawn all over him, calling him original, either not knowing that he's borrowing someone else's arrangement or, fully aware of that, commending him for taking the road less traveled. I am well aware of all of that. But he does make a brave choice here, choosing the well-known Michael Jackson song, but taking the lesser-known Chris Cornell take on it, just like he's done in past weeks. It pays off. And he shows in 90 seconds that maybe this race isn't as clear-cut as most of us thought.

So there they are, for what they're worth. So now the question is who is leaving, since we know Kristy Lee is safe.

Who I want: Chikezie, Ramiele, Kristy Lee (for old time's sake)
Who should: Chikezie, Ramiele and Kristy Lee (because my keyboard is on autopilot)
Who will: Chikezie, Ramiele, Syesha

This is a tough call, but I think Chikezie will regret choosing that ballad.

So, who's in your bottom three?

See you tonight for a crappy group sing, crappy Ford commercial and the FAB Kimberley Locke!

beatles, part deux...is that english?

Back by popular demand?

Tell popular to mind his own business.

Ryan introduces the top 11 performance episode explaining that a second week of Beatles tunes is on tap because somebody demanded it.

When I find out who that was, I will hunt him down and kill him, because what prevailed on Beatles Part Two night was a two-hour celebration of boring mediocrity. Everything the Beatles weren't about.

But enough of my moaning about the theme. It was what it was.

And here are my reviews, as always from worst to first, and they are what they are.

Kristy Lee Cook (You've Got to Hide Your Love Away). I flirted with putting Kristy Lee first this week, because the girl's got more lives than 14 cats. But I can't. At least she didn't haul out the steel guitar and fiddle for this, but she didn't do anything with this song to merit placing anywhere other than last. Hey, the girl couldn't even make HEY! sound interesting. How many lives do 14 cats have anyway?

Michael Johns (A Day in the Life). The judges rightfully panned the arrangement. Instead of trying to deliver a 90-second buffet of the entire song, he should have just stuck to one of the verses. As a result, it was an off-key, errant, erratic mish-mash of a classic song that left me asking why the guy I originally picked as a possible winner has left absolutely no impression so far - good or bad.

Chikezie No-Longer-Eze (I've Just Seen a Face). Oh boy. Everything that went right with his breakout performance last week went wrong with his second trip to Beatle-land. What started off somewhat strong was suddenly blown (pun intended) when he whipped out his harmonica and shifted into bluegrass mode. It was perfect last week. This week not so much.

Jason Castro (Michelle). Who knew Ma Belle was French?? He thought it was English. It's fortunate that Jason has an adoring fan group, because his high school talent contest treatment of this song - thoroughly devoid of meaning or emotion - on its own certainly wouldn't garner him any. If there was any doubt, there isn't now: Jason without his guitar is kinda like Oreos without milk.

Ramiele Malubay (I Should Have Known Better). Ramiele still is struggling to find the right song. She hit every note, she appeared somewhat comfortable on stage, it was far better than the snoozer she turned in last week, but, even with the more up-tempo number, she just sang the lyrics, and, much like Jason, basically sleepwalked through the whole performance. And like Jason, it wasn't bad. It just was.

Amanda Overmyer (Back in the USSR). I wonder how many parents had to explain to their kids exactly what the USSR was. Simon tells Amanda that she's falling deeper into the predictability pit, and she tries to explain that in only 90 seconds a week, she is trying to advertise what people will see when they sell out a Lafayette bar. Good point, Amanda. And, personally, I hope she doesn't try any melodic ballads anytime soon, because she is the performer that she is, and, as she proved at points of this performance, she struggles with melodies. They get in the way of the growl. But I actually enjoyed this performance somewhat, not as much as previous outings, but in relation to the evening, her kick-off number left some of the others in the dust.

Brooke White (Here Comes the Sun). In a yellow dress that reminded me of a Goodwill commercial, Brooke woo-woos and whoas her way through this yawner then makes the ill-conceived mistake of trying to talk over the judges as they give her her first (justifiable) criticisms of the season.

Carly Smithson (Blackbird). My first thought as Carly took the stage was that the producers must have fired the clothing staff to pay for the new set, primarily because I'm trying to steel myself for one of my least-favorite Beatles songs. Simon calls the choice "indulgent" and I'm still trying to figure out what he means by that. Randy calls it a word that can be found only in the Randy dictionary, and Carly explains that the song represents the Idols as they fix their broken wings and fly above the mosh pit. Or something like that. I'm too distracted by the tattooed "7" on her finger to really try to understand the metaphor.

Syesha Mercado (Yesterday). When I first heard Beatles night, my first question was which Idol would pull out possibly the most iconic of songs. Syesha was never my pick. But, sitting on stage alongside a single guitarist, looking quite lovely, she does an admirable job with the most beautiful of songs and in the process probably saves herself a repeat trip to center stage.

David Cook (Day Tripper). I spent the first half of this performance waiting for him to pull a Terry Fator, considering he took the stage with two microphones in addition to the return of his guitar. But he pulls out a Peter Frampton instead and voice boxes through the middle of the song. It's a cool gimmick and Paula tells him he's ready for a Geico commercial, pleasing David to no end, I'm sure. (Where does Paula come up with these things? Rhetorical question, I know.) It's not one of Cook's best performances, but this Cook's worst is better than the other Cook's best.

David Archuleta (The Long and Winding Road). David laughs at his disaster of the previous week in his pre-performance clip, assuring tweeners and their parents that the most vulgar work in his vocabulary is "dang." Somehow I actually believe that. He then delivers my favorite of all Beatles ballads without missing a note. Or a word. And while technically it was flawless, I think I finally know what is bugging me about him, aside from the lick-lipping which he seems to have controlled somewhat. It's his eyes, which don't fully reflect the emotion of his vocals. I know it's a nit-picky point, but it's a night where I have to find a nit to pick with everybody.

So who's staying? Depends on who's leaving.

Who I want: Kristy Lee, Michael, and somebody else.
Who should: Kristy Lee, Michael, Amanda
Who will: Kristy Lee, Michael, Ramiele

I have called for Kristy Lee's ouster now for approximately three weeks, and the voters are determined to drive me to drink. But, considering the alternatives, I honestly believe it's time to cut her loose. The ones who remain, after all, go on the tour, and all of the ones remaining deserve those spots.

So we'll see.

Who's your bottom three?

See you tonight.

hey dudes, don't make it bad...

Somewhere in heaven, John Lennon is crying.

The final 12 - the best. talent. ever. - took to the big stage to open the finals of the seventh season by getting the opportunity no Idol cast has ever had: to open the pages of the Lennon/McCartney songbook, tear out the pages and turn them into spitballs.

Because THIS is American Idol.

But more on that in a bit.

First things first. Ryan shows us the new stage. I'm not impressed. And I don't like the band in the rafters. And I hate the so-called "mosh pit" of screaming people posing a distraction to me and the performers. And I'm sad to see the traditional opening replaced by this new and improved model, although I will give it a few weeks to sink in before I decide I don't like it.

Those changes, however, were merely cosmetic, and should have prepared me for the whiplash of love and hate I was going to spend the next two hours experiencing.

Best. Talent. Ever.

Rethink that line, Randy.

Nevertheless, here they are, my impressions, biased and emotional as they are, a day later as normal and, as always, from worst to first.

Kristy Lee Cook (Eight Days a Week). Potentially the worst finals performance ever in the history of mankind. What she did to this song was unspeakable. Therefore, I will not speak of it.

David Archuletta (We Can Work it Out). Normally when a performer fluffs the lyrics in the finals, that performer is automatically put at the end (or in this case, the beginning) of the line, but David #1 is fortunate enough to go last, following Kristy, which is the only thing that saves him from the bottom. Flubbing the lyrics is unforgivable at this stage of the game, and it's especially unforgivable when it's a classic song. The wonderboy stumbles right out of the gate, never gets any semblance of footing and proceeds to thoroughly destroy this song, justifiably getting his guts ripped out by the judges for the first time this season.

David Hernandez (I Saw Her Standing There). Lucky for David #3, David #1 flubbed his lines. I give David #3 points for using the stage, both in front of and behind the judges, and I give him props for wardrobe, but that's where any praise begins and ends. This was an out-of-breath, over-wrought mess, which should land him standing on the stage tonight.

Ramiele Malubay (In My Life). This is a simple, beautiful, elegant, poignant song. And better suited for the studio than for the stage. Ramiele has a beautiful voice, and her vocals were fine, but she proved that a poor song selection, even performed adequately, does not keep you in the game.

Syesha Mercado (Got to Get You Into My Life). Oh what she could have done with the Beatles version instead of Earth, Wind and Fire's. But whatever. Leading off the show, her performance is not offensive, but not memorable either. In fact, I had forgotten all about her until the ending retrospective of performances. But in that retrospect, she wasn't all that bad. And on a night like this, that's high praise.

Amanda Overmyer (You Can't Do That). Simon was exactly right when he told the rocker that this performance wasn't on par with the performance from the week before, and I might have placed Amanda higher if I had understood at least 30 percent of the lyrics. But I couldn't. So I didn't. But on a night of song slaughter, she wasn't all that bad, and it was entertaining.

[The following six performances saved the show. I am struggling to order them, because I enjoyed each of them so much, that they really could be interchangeable, and I would be satisfied. So, while I will fall short of calling it a tie, it's as close as one.]

Michael Johns (Across the Universe). This is such a pretty song. And Michael delivered it exactly as it should be delivered: simply and elegantly. He gets unfairly slammed for not "making the song his own". Note to Simon: when the song is great, you don't mess with it. Otherwise you get Kristy Lee.

Jason Castro (If I Fell). I really enjoyed Jason's acoustic version of this song, even though he seemed to struggle in parts with the upper notes. But his almost folk styling is part of why I find him so attractive. And, if there hadn't been better performances, his would have easily found its way to the top of the list.

Carly Smithson (Come Together). While I'm not a fan of Carly, I can't help but become more and more enamored with her. This was wild, energetic, fun and unique, so much so that, in his praise, Simon invokes the holy name of Clarkson. That's a bit much, because Carly's got a lot more to prove before we can start making comparisons, but it was a great start. Note to Carly: wear sleeves.

Chikezie No-Longer-Eze (She's a Woman). I loved this. I loved this. From the sweater vest to the vocals to the stage presence to the enthusiasm, the guy I predicted first out totally rocked the house and went from being an afterthought to a contender in 90 seconds. Wonderful!

David Cook (Eleanor Rigby). My favorite Idol takes on one of my favorite songs. I must have done something good yesterday. And, while Randy was right, David #2 did struggle briefly with the front of the song, once he hit his stride there was no stopping him. Simon is right. If talent and not personality drives the vote, this David might have a shot of winning it all. But we know better.

Brooke White (Let It Be). First off, I admire any woman who takes the stage in her bare feet. Brooke did every single thing right with this song. She kept it simple. She stayed true to the melody, where a lesser singer might have foolishly attempted vocal acrobats. The beauty of this song, as it true with so many of the Lennon/McCartney songs, is its simplicity. It was perfection.

So there it is, the good, the bad and Kristy Lee.

Now is the time to boot off the last place finisher, amid a return from Kat McPhee and the announcement of the three mentors. (And there had better be a crappy Ford commercial in there somewhere and, with apologies to Paul McCartney, a group medley, if we have to sit for an hour to find out who's outta here.)

So who stays? And who goes?

Who I want: Kristy Lee, David #3 and David #1 because he forgot the lyrics.
Who should: Kristy Lee, David #3 and Ramiele (Kristy Lee)
Who will: Kristy Lee, David #3 and Syesha

Kristy Lee has already overstayed her welcome.

The tribe has spoken; it's time for her to go. Oh wait. Wrong show.

So, who's going home?

8 guys, 6 spots: whitney sang that...

What was billed as 80s night on American Idol's last guys semi-final would have been more appropriately named "songs that were sung in the 80s but made famous during various other decades other than the 80s." Or something to that effect.

Nonetheless, if the songs were cleared on the short 50 list, then the songs were legal, even if they were later covered by Whitney and Celine.

Because THIS is American Idol.

And in the best semi-final show this season, the guys, with a few bumps, further proved that this whole gender equity business is going to probably saddle us with some annoying women while depriving us of some enjoyable and entertaining guys. But that's the way it goes.

There wasn't anyone I vehemently despised last night, but here they are, my reviews of the fellas, sorta a day late and, as always, from worst to first:

Luke Menard (Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go). I have waited seven seasons to see if anyone would take on this Wham! hit. And of all the people, Luke is not the one I would have wished for. Luke, my boy, I have given you the benefit of the doubt because you're hawt and because you seem sweet and because you're from my home state. But Luke, I just can't go this far. You are hawt. You seem nice. And it's been nice having you with us. Wave to us before you go-go.

Danny Noriega (Tainted Love). Complete with purple hair and gnarly dance moves, Danny makes me chuckle, which makes up for how much I didn't love this song. Vocally, I give him a thumbs down; entertainment value gets a thumbs up. Together it's a wash. Which is what he should do to his hair.

Chikeze No-longer-Eze (All the Woman I Need). After the first week's disasterous effort, Chikeze has consistently improved and continued to impress. This was a solid effort, not terribly memorable aside from Simon's snittiness about whether this was a Whitney cover. I'm not sure it will keep the one-name wonder in the competition, though.

David Hernandez (It's All Coming Back to Me Now). David #3 deftly avoids any stripper stories to share as an embarrassing moment (although they would have been preferable to the booger story.) It's a strong effort, with strong, confident vocals, causing Simon to give him the 100% guarantee that he'll make the finals. I don't disagree.

David Archuleta (Another Day in Paradise). David #1 starts his crusade to end homelessness at the piano before grabbing the microphone to stand and finish this maudlin ballad. It's his worst effort to date, but David #1's worst would have been most people's best effort. The judges give him tepid reviews, leading Paula to remind voters/viewers that the boy is not an android. But I'm telling you now, his habit of licking his lips between lines is getting as distracting as his breathing techniques (or lack thereof). Somebody get this boy some Chapstick. Pronto.

Michael Johns (Don't You Forget About Me). Squee! Memories of The Breakfast Club surfaces! I suddenly want a Frito and Dixie Straw sandwich. But enough about me. I wasn't exactly giddy about this outing, but it was sufficient. And, as Simon pointed out, Michael has a great performance bubbling inside him. Hopefully he's sandbagging his way through the prelims, just waiting to release it on the big stage.

Jason Castro (Hallelujah). No guitar for Jason, and it looks a little odd to see him with only a microphone. But, despite a cracked last note, this was a soft, lovely and thoroughly memorable performance. Simon even uses the "brilliant" word, something he does rarely. And he's even getting better at the post-performance banter.

David Cook (Hello). I can't remember a time when a performance has grabbed me by the throat, struck me still and kept me spellbound. (Something tells me it was around season five.) It didn't dawn on me until the judges comments that this was a Lionel Ritchie song, because David #2 had me so captured that, for once, I didn't hear a song from the 80s. I heard David Cook. And I think I am in love.

Now is the tough part. Seven of the eight deserve to stay, but only six can, unless we can figure out a way to knock off one extra girl. But that seems unlikely. And potentially illegal. So who stays and who leaves?

Who I want: Luke and Chikeze
Who should: Luke and Danny
Who will: Luke and Chikeze

Anyone taking guesses how many times we butcher Whitney again tonight? I say two.

See you then.