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.

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.

12 guys, 10 spots: hey, you don't suck...

Well, some of them didn't suck on Tuesday night as the top 12 men kicked off the seventh season of America's favorite karaoke contest.

Because THIS is American Idol!

And it was 60s night with a limited catalog of song titles from which to choose (and considering some of the choices, I swear the editor of the catalog was smoking something slightly illegal.) Nonetheless, it was a potpourri of total suckiness and relative brilliance and everything in between.

Anyway, here are my impressions, a little late as they probably will be this season, but as always from worst to first:

Chikeze No-longer-Eze (More Today than Yesterday). Yikes. If there was ever a poster boy for Lounge Lizards, I think he's been found, orange suit and all. There was nothing - nothing - enjoyable about this performance, and any charm he may or may not have had that might have saved him he lost in his infantile banter with Simon.

Danny Noriega (Jailhouse Rock). Luckily for Danny, he shared the stage with the lizard, which boosts him out of worst place. There was nothing redeeming about this performance, from the first note to the post-performance interview. I commented earlier that this kid would soon get on my nerves. Soon came faster than even I thought.

Garrett Haley (Breaking Up is Hard to Do). This kid kinda scares me. I don't know if it's the hair, the voice or the personality, but I predicted he would be first out, and nothing about this out of tune performance makes me want to change my mind.

Luke Menard (Everybody's Talkin'). Luke is hawt. Now if he could only sing better. In his defense, it was a terrible choice of song. I hope he gets a second try, though, because he's hawt.

Jason Yeager (Moon River). The bestest thing about Jason is his adorable lookalike son. But I wish for him he had waited to dedicate this sleepy ballad until he had already made a first impression. It wasn't snooze-inducingly bad, but it wasn't American Idol-worthy. I hope, though, that he gets a second chance. Cause I love his kid.

David Hernandez (Wait Till the Midnight Hour). David #3 gets credit for putting his own twist on this song, just enough of a credit to equal out a bum note at the end. Starting the show, I was ready to call him gone, but in comparison to many of the others, I think he's got at least another week left.

Colton Berry (Suspicious Minds). Unlike Colton, I don't love this song, but he didn't murder it, and by the mid-part of this performance episode, not sucking is good.

Robbie Carrico (One). The former boy-bander has decided he's a rocker, complete with a Daughtry wallet chain. He turned in a perfectly-enjoyable performance, one that should easily secure him a second appearance.

David Cook (Happy Together). Okay, I'll admit a bit of bias right off the bat: I love this song. So, shoot me. And I really enjoyed David #2's rendition, enough to boost my faith that he'll be singing into March, where the hair stylists will be in heaven.

Jason Castro (What a Day for a Daydream). Jason is the only contestant to haul out an instrument, in this case a guitar, and delivers one of the better performances of the night. And he deserves to advance on hair alone.

David Archuleta (Shop Around). Seems that people either love or hate this kid, David #1. He's 17. I think he's adorable and finally we seem to have a teen boy (he's 17) who has actual talent. And he's 17. No joke.

Michael Jones (Light my Fire). The guy who I think is going to win this whole show gets to wrap up the night, which guarantees his advancement, but he could have delivered this in the lead-off position and still be guaranteed to move forward. Heck, why don't we already put him in the finale.

So who's going home? Any two of six could leave Thursday, and I wouldn't shed a tear, but I'm going with my first hunch of Garrett and joining him with the VFTW poster child, Danny Noriega.

The women will take the stage tonight. They can't be much worse.