the first three: a SIMULBLOG!...

We're going to watch three people leave happy and nine people leave with their heads in their hands as they examine the chards of their shattered dreams strewn all around their feet which have nowhere to go except to the closest bus station.

God I love execution night.

And I love that they're having it during family hours so that kids can watch the massacre and old people like me can stay up without missing our 9 p.m. bedtimes.

Okay, so that's only gonna last through the semi-finals, but a girl can enjoy little pleasures while they last.

This is a live post, also known around these parts as a SIMULBLOG, when I'm writing as I'm watching with a publish at every important break, so if you are on the west coast and you want to be spoiled, now is the time to exit stage left, because by the end of the post you're gonna know who's staying and who's going home to wait on the wildcard invite.

Ryan tells us that 24 million votes were phoned in last night, before he gives us a refresher on how this new season's semi-finals are gonna work. Yeah we know Ryan. Three stay. Nine don't. This show could last only 14.5 minutes if they would only avoid the judges' self-congratulation and contrived drama. But whatever.

We get a review on how group one got to Hollywood and to the eyeball stage. Then we're treated to a GROUP SING! Thankfully it's just 12 of them, not the whole 36, although that would not have surprised me. God I love cheesy dancing!

THIS is American Idol!

_____

Oh good. We get reminded of the trainwreck that was the night before. I choose not to watch.

The kids get asked for their own reviews of their own performances. They hem. They haw. Some of them obviously didn't watch the show.

Ryan shows us the three good stools which will be filled with three lucky butts.

He brings Casey to the stage, who says she agreed with the judges that she shouldn't have tried to sing Sting. Randy says she needs to go. She does. Bye Casey.

Stephen is next. He kinda sorta agrees that he chose the wrong song. Kara says he needs to go. He does. Bye Stephen.

Alexis is asked to come on down. I like her hat. Paula reminds Alexis that she was marvelous. And she stays and gets to sit on one of the shiny stools. And she gets to sing. Hey! The winners are gonna sing again. Now THAT is a twist.
_____

This show could be about nine minutes long if it weren't for the commercials. Ricky and Jackie are brought center stage. Ricky is sent away. So is Jackie.

Anoop and Michael are asked to join Ryan. They get reminded of last night's reviews. One of them is advancing. And it's Michael. Anoop is sent to await another callback, which I'm sure he'll get.

Michael gets to sing again.

This show would be about three minutes long if it weren't for the encores.
_____

Oh I hope they keep their promise of reducing this season's results show to 30 minutes.

We get to see some highlights of the Disneyworld extravaganza, ending with a snippet of the David Cook/Carrie Underwood duet, all of which can be seen here. It really is good.

Michael Johns and Carly Smithson remind us of what a great season last year was. They team up for The Letter.
_____

Ann Marie is told to stand. She's reminded how much the judges hated her. Brent does the same. So does Stevie. Nothing like a mass killing! Randy says none of them deserves to stay. And, predictably, none of them do. Oh the carnage.

Danny and Tatiana are left. Both are brought center stage. Paula says the last spot should go to Danny. But we have to wait until "after the break."
_____

Both are reminded of the songs they sang. One will get a stool and the other will get a wildcard. Mark my words. Danny makes it through. Tatiana, in Tatiana fashion, has a Tatiana mini-meltdown and is assisted, sorta, off the stage by the other girls who also got the ax. She will return, girls. Trust me.

Danny gets to close the show with his reprise. And we await next week.

Remember, President Obama will be taking the stage next Tuesday, so we'll be on a Wednesday/Thursday schedule. I like President Obama. I think he will advance.

See you then...

7 is enough: a SIMULBLOG...

Well they've given back. And now it's time to give back one of the remaining eight.

It's back to business. Because THIS is American Idol.

And this is a SIMULBLOG, which means that while the action is happening live on the east coast, it's being explained in a wacky and convoluted sort of way here, complete with random thoughts and random typos, so if you want to be spoiled hang around, because I'll be publishing at every important break. If you want to remain pure until the execution is aired in your area, you need to leave. But remember to return and moan and groan (or jump and celebrate) with the rest of us.

Because the show is about to start!
_______

Ryan promises us surprises as he introduces the judges. (And Mandisa is in the audience!) We get a review of IGB, because it's been 24 hours since it aired and, since it ran over, many of us didn't get to see the end except on youtube.com. Over $60 million has been raised and Ryan implores us to keep calling and downloading the show's songs from iTunes. (There's a link in the sidebar for your convenience...and a commission for me. Shameless, I know.)

The kids reprise their Shout to the Lord finale song that TiVo didn't record. No cheezy choreography. Just some simply swaying and audience strolling. And a really big church choir. Very nice, even though this group does struggle with singing as a group.
_______

They're still airing the "give money" promos, but I love Zach and Cody, so I don't mind.

Over 31 million votes were phoned in from people not pledging money. It's time to start setting the field.

Brooke White is first. She is reminded of her reviews. And after telling everyone about her sister's wedding this weekend, she tells herself she's safe.
David Cook is next. The hairstyle is disturbing. He gets reminded he was called "pompous." And he's safe. Good. Now I can keep watching the show.
David Archuleta is summoned. And the moshers are told to shut the hell up. Well, sorta. And, no surprise, he is also safe.
The safe people celebrate as we're shown the empty stools of death. And go to commercial.
_______

More IGB promos and a video that they, apparently, didn't have time for last night. Geesh, they aired that thing for three hours and still ran over. The video is both touching and disturbing. I hope the money goes to where it can do the most good.

And it's time for Jordin Sparks with Chris Brown and her new single No Air. Ryan and assorted people present the reigning idol with plaques recognizing her gazillion sales/downloads. Good girl, Jordin!
_______

At least all of the IGB festivities didn't keep us from crappy - but colorful - Ford commercial. The Idols are Celebrating!

Jason Castro is called to center stage. He's reminded that the judges gushed over him. And he's told he's safe.
Kristy Lee Cook is called. And she's safe too.
That leaves Carly Smithson, Michael Johns and Syesha Mercado in the bottom three. People boo. _______

More IGB promos, including a wonderfully snarky John McCain. I actually snickered.

The bottom three are standing center stage. Randy is surprised. Paula says the three is "partly right, partly wrong." Simon is typically smug. And Ryan throws us to commercial.
_______

And they're back.

Michael, Carly and Syesha are reminded of their song selections and their judges comments.

Syesha and Carly are told they're safe. Michael is left, people boo, and Ryan tells us it's the end of Michael's road.

I didn't see that one coming. Ruben sings while we watch MJ's journey.

The judges offer him advice, Simon gets one more dig in about a bad song selection, and Michael sings the show out.

Wow. I am still surprised. I think it was the scarf.

See ya Michael. And good luck.

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?

parton me while we sing dolly...

It was no April Fool's joke that the nine remaining Idols were given the task of picking through the Dolly Parton songbook. And the result? Another night of pleasantry: nothing extraordinary but nothing near the level of wretched either.

Mediocrity bores me.

And while I appreciate the work of Dolly Parton, both as a songwriter and as an artist, I can't help but believe that the more broad theme of country music would have suited the final nine much better. And it's not like Ms. Parton couldn't have lent her considerable knowledge of the country music industry. The woman's been a staple of the field for a century. Or so.

But they didn't, so here are my thoughts on the night, a day late but as usual, from worst to first.

Ramiele Malubay (Do I Ever Cross Your Mind). Once again Ramiele turns in an unmemorable performance, at times drowned out by the band in the rafters, at times off tune and often wavering on those sustained notes that plague her. I don't know how she has escaped the bottom so often, but her time may be up after this.

Brooke White (Jolene). Simon was right when he told Brooke that she seemed to be just trying to get through the song, one of Dolly's most wrenching. It was performed sufficiently - I like Brooke when she's playing the guitar - but it left me empty, a strange departure for Brooke.

Jason Castro (Travelin' Thru). I have to give the guys a little latitude with this theme, but Jason continues to disappoint me with his sleepwalking versions over the past couple of weeks. Like Brooke, it was not bad. It was just 90 seconds of time that I don't remember.

Syesha Mercado (I Will Always Love You). When contestants become so predictable that we can review them before they sing, it's usually a sign their time is up. Who didn't expect this song from this girl? And ever idealistic, I had hopes at first that Syesha would stick to the Dolly version and not fall into the Whitney trap. Alas. Good front part, disappointing back part and a note overheld so long that it caused the show to run long.

Kristy Lee Cook (Coat of Many Colors). Kristy gets points for the bare feet. I think most people expected Kristy to thrive in her genre theme, and while Simon thought her flag-waving performance from the week before was better, I agree with Paula that it was her best. She was smart not to try to embellish with vocal acrobats a song whose lyrics tell a sad story. And while she may find herself singing into the credits tonight, she will go out on a high note.

Carly Smithson (Here You Come Again). This is one of the Dolly songs that I really like, and part of its appeal is the tempo. Carly takes the tempo waaaaaay down, which throws me a bit and after a few more listens I still don't really like, but she has made strides in correcting, at the suggestion of the judges, her facial expressions. Now work on the wardrobe, says Simon. Find sleeves, say I. I'm not a tattoo bigot, but even after all these weeks, I still find myself so distracted by them that I forget she's singing. And if I am doing it, I'm sure I'm not alone.

Michael Johns (It's All Wrong, But It's All Right). Michael gets the pimp spot, but because of an hour show, countless commercials, pointless banter and Syesha's five-minute glory note, his performance and post-performance moment feels too rushed. The judges gush, however briefly, over his bluesy interpretation of Dolly's song, calling it his best to date. I have heard him better, but on this night, pretty good is, well, pretty good.

David Cook (Little Sparrow). David Cook takes a moment pre-performance to satisfy all of those naysayers who are accusing him of stealing arrangements, and he takes pains to inform us that he arranged the version of Dolly's song by himself. He then turns in a heartfelt, acoustic version of a song I don't know very well in the style we've come to expect from him. And thankfully he is fine after a health scare.

David Archuleta (Smoky Mountain Memories). Archuleta seems to be off one week, on the next. This was beautiful, easily the best performance of the night. And his stage presence and facial expressions seem to be improving weekly.

So now the tough part. The group is clearly dividing itself into the contenders and the rest, led by the guys and Brooke, leaving any one of the others as the dispensable kid, so on a night when all things are pretty much equal, it's hard to pick the obvious boot.

So I'll toss a coin.

Who I want: Syesha, Ramiele, Kristy Lee
Who should: Syesha, Ramiele, Jason
Who will: Syesha, Ramiele, Jason

And Ramiele, you've slipped under the eviction radar for weeks, so be grateful for the time you've had. I had such high expectations for you, but you just didn't live up to them.

So who's in your bottom three?

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!
_______

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!
_______

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.
_______

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!
_______

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.
_______

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.

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.

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.