Watching American Idol after the fact is always a weird, systematic succession. One has to (try to) avoid all things online. Facebook has to be limited and Twitter has to be almost null and void. A failure, I might add, but my want to be surprised, shocked, outraged, perturbed, frustrated, elated while I’m “in the moment” – even though the show was old news to about everyone else – is always desired.

I’ve become more restive as my middle age approaches, though. Trying my hardest to refrain from fast-forwarding through a 2 hour slog-fest chock full of filler is relieved only with the knowledge that this is the penultimate week of season 10. And it couldn’t have ended any faster…

Yet, for some reason, post-performance show last night, I couldn’t find the inner inkling to write a damned word. I’m usually pent up with an abundance of thoughts, just itching to get to my computer and start typing away. But, not last night. I merely continued on into the rest of the night watching DVRd shows I can’t seem to find the time to during the week.

So, here I sit on my lunch hour at work, chicken Caesar salad wrap in one hand, hunting and pecking with the other, hoping I could make it through on my memory of last night.

Here’s a quick (yeah, right) recap…

Idol gave us our obligatory three’s-a-charm(?) scenario, whereas the final 3 contestants perform three selections from three sources – the contestant’s own, then season 10 Svengali, Jimmy Iovine, and finally judges pick (this year as an aggregate, not individually).

Round one started with Scotty’s choice of “Amazed” – and while I can’t blame him for the song itself (a massive crossover Country and Pop #1, and one of the most turgid), I can blame him for choosing it. He imbued it with more uncharacteristic range than is his norm (though his status as ‘one-note’ is speciously inaccurate), and with more, uh, passion ?, than the hideous Lonestar original, so he gets upped a grade for that. Alaina’s pick was Faith Hill’s very first #1, “Wild One” and the exuberance of the song should have been a tailor fit; Alaina is always at her (pedestrian) best when instilling, if not vocal aerobics, at least a little joviality in her recitals. Perhaps when mentor Beyonce advised her to tap into her own Sasha Fierce-type persona, a better suited choice should’ve been Beyonce’s own “Lose My Breath” for all the uncontrollable breathiness. Haley’s Led Zeppelin choice was a fiery reminder as to why she’s Top 3 at all, despite the historical, maddening drubbing by JLo and Randy (though not here), and why she belongs in the finals. Her quick slip up the steps will be talked about, but so will her trouper-in-stiletto’s confidence – fall and all, she commandeered the song with a jazz and blues inflected, totally stylized Tasmanian devilish lure mixed with a Rock passion. It was chills-inducing, dynamic and a total Idol anomaly, much like Zeppelin’s sole other song clearance back in season 9 (Adam Lambert’s powder keg explosive “Whole Lotta Love”). Haley gave the performance of the week. For the SIXTH WEEK IN A ROW! I know. It’s only Rock N Roll, but I like it!

Iovine’s song selects should be commended – unlike seasons past, when either Clive Davis or “Idol producers” chose generic, pop music standards to head-scratching effect/affect, Iovine’s eclecticism encourages the Idol’s to think outside the barn. It didn’t necessarily work. Scotty’s Thompson Square Jimmy jam, while totally proficient, missed an opportunity for a needed McCreery epiphany. Same with Iovine’s The Band Perry choice for Lauren, where the modulation tripped her enough to negate the lovely opening refrains. Haley, like Stevie Nicks’ protagonist “Rhiannon”, rang like a bell in the night, and, wouldn’t you know? I love her (Jimmy – a one-time lover of Nicks, and producer of her first three solo albums – is the one person who could rightfully bequeath a Nicks song on anyone). Reinhart’s fear of forgetting Nicks’ lyrical eccentricity could have obstructed the performance art, but instead she allowed Nicks’ abstruse, mystical, gypsy vibe to permeate her own being– from the wind machine, the abstract arm choreography, the quivering, wavering tones. I loved how Haley mellifluously swooped the melody in the name “Rhiannon” during the chorus. Perhaps it could have benefited Reinhart if the key was lowered a half step, and I know this wasn’t for everyone, but, as a Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac worshipper, am I being prejudiced? Perhaps. But who cares…I’m too lazy to go back and re-listen.

Judges picks were – shocking! – pure curiosities. I grew up on Kenny Rogers and there’s a special place in my heart for “She Believes In Me”, but a 17 year old can’t possibly relate to its adult lyrical content. Scotty’s prone to cornball aesthetics, I know, but it didn’t fully work, especially the strain in the songs choral crescendo. Lauren’s “I Hope You Dance”, a modern Country classic, was too life-size for her to seize. The tempo was inappropriately rushed, and Lauren missed an opportunity to adhere to the emotionalism and expression of it’s definition. She hit the notes accordingly, but the performance as an entity fell into the too-often tracked terrain that has become Alaina’s main detriment – pageantville. The less said of Reinhart’s massacring of Alanis Morisette’s anthem “You Oughta Know” the better. Sure, one can accuse the judges of sabotage for choosing this classic, bitter fuck-you to ex’s everywhere – I mean, can anyone but Morissette embody the autobiographical rage so innate to her? – but that wouldn’t excuse Reinhart’s almost comical blundering and indecipherable mumbling of the bridge – even though everyone I’ve ever met does the same thing since no one knows what the hell Morissette’s saying anyway. She somewhat saves herself from total atrocity on the choruses, but overall, this scarily reminded me of those embarrassing pre-Bennie & the Jets days. Not an avenue I ever want to visit again.

Okay, it’s back to work…I’ll revise any text later (though not the grades) if I find any misinformation, or any grammatical/spelling errors. Don’t forget to catch me on tonight’s post-results SECRET SHOW GONE WILD with SPECIAL GUEST JIM CANTIELLO. Always a blast.

In order of performance:

Scotty McCreery
Song: Lonestar’s “Amazed”
My grade: B

Lauren Alaina
Song: Faith Hill’s “Wild One”
My grade: B-

Haley Reinhart
Song: Led Zeppelin’s “What Is And What Should Never Be”
My grade: A-

Scotty
Song: Thompson Square’s “Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not”
My grade: B+

Lauren
Song: The Band Perry’s “If I Die Young”
My grade: B+

Haley
Song: Fleetwood Mac’s “Rhiannon”
My grade: B+

Scotty
Song: Kenny Rogers’ “She Believes In Me”
My grade: B

Lauren
Song: Lee Ann Womack’s “I Hope You Dance”
My grade: B

Haley
Song: Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know”
My grade: C

When the announcement for Idol’s Top 4 mentor was declared, I was befuddled, to say the least. Sure, having Lady Gaga as “tutor”, so to speak, was a brilliant move – if anything, Fox can expect a spike in viewership en masse as the girl formerly-known-as-Stephanie Germanotta was sure to attract a couple million “little monsters” to a TV show they’d normally rebuke. But why the hell is the (arguably) most popular female singer on the planet (ah, remember those days, Madonna?) mentoring these final 4 in a category as archaic (albeit, one as rich as the Argyle Diamond Mines) as Leiber & Stoller? Especially when the show was paired off in a dual (duel?) themed week with the treacly fatuousness of “Songs That Inspire”. I mean, love her or loathe her, no one beseeches more passion or inspiration into her fans – or her art – than Gaga.

(Just for a historical reference, the last time TPTB at Idol doled out the “The Songs of Leiber And Stoller” theme, the results were far from terrible. In fact, it was Season 5’s Top 5, (a theme week shared with “Current Billboard Hits”), and in that bleak season, it was 3/5s a solid showcase. It was the week that Carrie Underwood – who sang “Trouble” [my grade B+] – actually showed a pulse after weeks of robotic, soulless servitude, Bo performed a nearly vocally flawless “Stand By Me” [my grade A-], and Idol miscreant Scott Savol proving charitable with his finest vocal to date with “On Broadway” [my grade B+]. The beautiful Vonzell Solomon’s shaky “Treat Me Right” [my grade B-] and Anthony Federov’s aptly titled “Poison Ivy” [my grade C-] were the weakest links for that first half of the recital).

But, antiquity aside, it was the second week counting where I literally cursed, screamed, hissed and fulminated at my television to the point where my neighbors might have called 911 for fear of domestic violence. Sure, booing and abjuring these three judging toadstools has become so orthodox that it’s almost comical. But if I’m thankful of anything, it’s that there are only two more weeks left of their obliviousness and palpable disdain for Haley. As in weeks past, when James figuratively vomits all over the stage in a cacophonous display of mastication and bile during “Don’t Stop Believing” he’s “setting the bar”. Yet, the “confused” Randy actually had the audacity to critique Haley’s “Earth Song” with: “…it felt like you were screaming!” (In a season of Jackson derisory doodads, this one is the most laughably ironic). They’re confused by Haley’s lack of artistry yet declare Scotty ready for a slew of sold-out shows at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium. The ire is conspicuous and copious – as is my revulsion.

Listen, I understand that Reinhart was less than stellar during “Earth Song” – at times slipping into her faux proclivities that had me detached from the start of the season until recently, and nearly getting swallowed by the dramatics of the production – but, without excusing the growling overload, “Earth Song” is one of Michael Jackson’s most turgid atrocities in a canon so rare of them. I won’t blame the song solely – but Reinhart was Maria Callas compared to Durbin’s Charlie Callas. Reinhart – perhaps in intestinal fortitude and revolt to the judges’ cruelty (e.g. when Ryan asked Randy who won the first round, he burped “James/Scotty/Lauren”) – came back swinging. Her “I (Who Have Nothing)” was a splendid “FUCK YOU!!!” to a quartet (you have to add Nigel to the mix) that deserved the ire, and in a case of déjà vu all over again, it brought the panel to their feet. After her performance, I couldn’t help but think of the title of another ancient, minor L&S hit for The Coasters. It was called “Idol With The Golden Head.” Indeed.

Durbin’s ad absurdum is provided beyond merely his readiness to waver off pitch on uncomplicated tunes for the sake of the screech (it’s also via his imperturbable haughtiness). So imagine the audacious lunacy of attempting Steve Perry. Journey may or may not be – depending on whom you ask – one of the worst rock and roll bands of all time, but Perry’s range is extraordinary. Teetering on the paper-thin border of competent schlock-rocker and vocal pest, where his fustian antics can’t masquerade such dichotomies, his “Don’t Stop Believing” was absolutely untenable. But since his “Love Potion No.9” epitomized the 1980s hair-metal Velveeta years, there’s no irony that Durbin actually covered not the 1959 Clovers smash, but the 1989 Beau Nasty version. And adequately enough.

Corniness is next to godliness in Idol, so instead of dancing around the spokes of their wheelhouses, Scott and Lauren dived head first into their predisposed snug terrain. McCreery will, no doubt, be lambasted for choosing Alan Jackson’s reflective, genuine post-9/11 tribute days after the demise of Osama Bin Laden, but I’ll cut the kid some slack and assume he’s not that calculating or smarmy. Comparisons to Kristy Lee Cook’s heinous Red State pandering (with the execrable “God Bless The U.S.A.” back during season 7) commenced almost immediately throughout the Twitterverse, but these accusations are regrettable and risible; McCreery has to cater to absolutely no one – he’s never been headed anywhere but the finals. But more significantly, Cook was a vocal terrorist and her choice to pollute the Idol stages with the worst song of the 1980s was clearly a premeditated imploring to the bible-belt. That she made it into the Top 12 that season meant the terrorists partially won.

What I won’t do is excuse McCreery’s emaciated mumblings here; you couldn’t find the simplicity of the melody with a richter scale and his difficulty enunciating the lyrics was addling. His L&S number fared no better as “Young Blood” just proved his twangy joke stance that his naysayers have been declaring all along.

Singing is not relating, and disconnection has been a problem for most of this season’s baker’s dozen. Alaina, especially, who also has the unfortunate disability of insecurity and self-doubt. I was happy that she rediscovered some mojo for the Martina McBride inspirational number and delivered her best vocal yet (McBride is one of Country’s greatest vocalists, so it’s no easy task), though her “Trouble” will be automatically compared to Carrie Underwood’s aforementioned Season 4 L&S night recital, and her childish fooforaw about not wanting her fans to think she’s “evil” (that’s a lyric in the song) pushed her into near Kelly Pickler territory, yet wasn’t the least of the numbers problems: someone needs to tell Alaina that Tyler is not Mario Lopez and Idol ain’t Miss Teen USA. In performance and production, it defined pomp pageantry.

With two weeks to go and my already-compromised patience at it’s most restive, I surmise that, despite the squalor doled, I can actually take a moment of gratitude and unmitigated solace that, during this twofold theme night (and especially with “inspiration” as one theme), there wasn’t a Lusky Stank in sight.

Say Amen, somebody!

Inspirational Songs:

James Durbin
Song: Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing”
Grade: C

Haley Reinhart
Song: Michael Jackson’s “Earth Song”
Grade: B

Scotty McCreery
Song: Alan Jackson’s “Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)”
My grade: B-

Lauren Alaina
Song: Martina McBride’s “Anyway”
My grade: B+

Leiber & Stoeller:

Haley Reinhart
Song: Shirley Bassey’s “I (Who Have Nothing)”
My grade: A-

Scotty McCreery
Song: The Coasters’ “Young Blood”
My grade: C+

Lauren Alaina
Song: Elvis Presley’s “Trouble”
My grade: B-

James Durbin
Song: The Clovers’ “Love Potion No. 9″
My grade: B

As Depeche Mode once sang, “Words are very unnecessary…they can only do harm…” Thanks, Martin Gore, if only you knew how many sleepless nights I could have saved if I had only listened to your sage advice. And, since words are, indeed, unnecessary, here is a visual to sum up the intensity of my exasperation over this most abysmal night:

The agenda of The Powers That Be was in unabashed, unmitigated force tonight – more so than in recent memory.

Listen, I won’t change my history; I once considered Haley a full-blown menace and graded her accordingly. But her metamorphosing from Idol malcontent to bona fied contender has been dazzling to behold. Yet, to watch as this panel excoriated Reinhart’s solid, if imperfect, yet joyful “You & I” while practically ejaculating all over each other in an almost unrepentant, despicable sexual frenzy for James and Jacob – who gave three of the most heinous performances of this season (Durbin’s “Without You”, while manipulatively dismal, wasn’t as grotesque as the idea promised) – just flaunted the continual blatant mendacity of the Idol machinations, with maniacal kapellmeister Nigel Lythgoe pulling the strings in a musical puppet show from the dungeons of Marat Sade. The judges’ standing O for her spectacular “House Of The Rising Sun” – the single finest performance of the past two seasons and absolutely, historically one of Idol’s greatest – was too little too late.

I’ll forgo full-fledged Report Card commentary and let the grades speak for themselves. But, tomorrow I’ll be a guest on Jim Cantiello’s IDOL PARTY LIVE at Noon on MTV.com, which I’ll post the day after (UPDATE: CLICK THE BELOW PIC OF JIM CANTIELLO TO WATCH THE SHOW). And of course, find me tomorrow evening for Rickey‘s SECRET SHOW GONE WILD after Idol’s elimination show.

In the order of performances…

James Durbin
Song: 30 Seconds to Mars’ “Closer to the Edge”
My grade: D

Jacob Lusk
Song: Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown’s “No Air”
My grade: D

Lauren Alaina
Carrie Underwood’s “Flat on the Floor”
My grade: B

Scotty McCreery
Song: Montgomery Gentry’s “Gone”
My grade: B

Haley Reinhart
Song: Lady Gaga’s “You and I”
My grade: A-

James Durbin
Song: Harry Nilsson’s “Without You”
My grade: B-

Jacob Lusk
Nazareth’s “Love Hurts”
My grade: C

Lauren Alaina
Song: Righteous Brothers’ “Unchained Melody”
My grade: B

Scotty McCreery
Song: Elvis Presley’s “Always on My Mind”
My grade: B+

Haley Reinhart
Song: The Animals’ “The House of the Rising Sun”
My grade: A

******

Jim Cantiello's IDOL PARTY LIVE!

Hey, maybe it’s because I’m becoming a softie in my old age, or perhaps that I’m just too indolent to spelunk my own ghosts of AI:X Report Cards past, but if I was a gaming man, I’d bet that this was the most enjoyable night yet this season.

Okay, listen, I know authenticity is an aimless objectivity, blah blah blah – that’s the understood median, the accepted permutation from the original concept. And it’s pained me for years, but a fact is a fact – Idol will never return to the halcyon days of even the phoniest gesture of great singers singing great songs (that it found some in greats like Kelly, Fantasia, Adam, Melinda just to name a few is/was a bonus).

That there hasn’t even been an attempt at such a hierarchy is almost comical. And this year’s crop has been dissected far more intimately than I’ll ever muster the want to explore.

Sometimes, though, you have to deflect the kvetching, forgo the whining and you just have to accept that what is/was is what is/was (got that?) – and absorb it all on that plane. And what avenue is more perfect to route as such than American Idol Season 10?

Despite two major clunkers, the rest of the night was enjoyable for, again, what it is/was. Deficiencies aside, I kinda enjoyed myself. That’s winning…Idol style!

Speaking of deficiencies, it’s time, America, to send Jacob Lusk home. His hubris matched only by his monolithically shrill instrument, no one’s ever accused Lusk of understatement. While I can respect the un-obviousness of his song choice (most of the contestants actually can be commended for not picking Carole King standards that have been beaten to death), his “Oh No Not My Baby” was an exercise in self-indulgence. He occasionally finds the gumption to restrain the ostentation – as he did at the opening of the song – but it quickly deteriorated into a rococo nightmare. It was so bloated, so gaseous, so regurgitated that when Randy proclaimed, “that scatting was incredible…” I went running for the Imodium.  His later duet with James Durbin proved only two major points that are undeniable: One, neither should ever – ever – wear white. And two? Neither should ever – ever – duet again.

You can save you’re a trip to the periodontist, because Lauren’s “Where You Lead (I Will Follow)” was as sweet as can be without promoting cavities. Absolutely innocuous, sure, but with a competence – and conviction – she’s lacked for months. That extended to an otherwise rote, uninspired Scotty McCreery “Up On The Roof” duet, where Alaina clearly one-upped McCreery’s unsure harmonies and uninspired tics.

Casey Abrams & Haley Reinhart’s routine of the Idol-cursed “I Feel The Earth Move” was pure corn on the cob with cotija cheese, but the chemistry was infectious and Haley was delicious. Abrams is clearly the most musically accomplished of the Idols this year, and, Vote For The Worst notwithstanding, and love him or loathe him, he is a purely niche recitalist. His polarizing snarls and grunts were perfectly suited, though, for Kings’ “Hi De Ho” and with a fairly faithful form of Blood Sweat & Tears’ version, Abrams – for the nonce, anyway – proved that perhaps his oft-maligned “judges save” wasn’t in (total) vain.

“Beautiful”, from TAPESTRY, is a great King composition with an intricate, fluctuating melody that a lesser soloist could easily succumb to, but Haley – after a dazzling “Rolling In The Deep” last week and a vibrant duet earlier in the night – inhales, swallows and gestates – swooping from a marshmallow-dunked-in-honey croon to an fervent, feverish howl, with the words pouncing and fluttering like a fistful of flowers burst forward in a dizzying clarion call. This girl is on fire – and, despite what the panel says – gives the performance of the night. Again.

I won’t be so foolhardy as to suggest that there isn’t a cohesive talent floundering within Durbin’s ego, and his “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” was a nice diversification from his usual pretentions (that jarring and unnecessary banshee fail wail notwithstanding). But it was far from the momentous occasion that Randy (whose hyperbolic ramblings are an Idol norm) decreed – hell, it wasn’t even top 4 of the night. And just when I defend Scotty’s authenticity, comes his pretty strange – and strangely pretty – take on “You’ve Got A Friend”. Parts of his affectations were inadvertently comical (I actually laughed out loud at his force-fed “I’ll be there, I’ll be there, I’ll be there…” that finishes the song), and his discomfort was palpable (he’s never been so de-compartmentalized) but in an unorthodox way, this was his most endearing performance yet.

********

In order of performance:

Jacob Lusk
Song: Oh No Not My Baby
My grade: C

Lauren Alaina
Song: Where You Lead (I Will Follow)
My grade: B+

Casey & Haley
Song: I Feel The Earth Move
My grade: B+

Scotty McCreery
Song: You’ve Got A Friend
My grade: B+

James Durbin
Song: Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow
My grade: B+

Scotty  & Lauren
Song: Up On The Roof
My grade: B

Casey Abrams
Song: Hi De Ho
My grade: B+

Haley Reinhart
Song: Beautiful
My grade: A-

Jacob & James
Song: I’m Into Something Good
My grade: C+

Also, click on Jim’s photo below for his always brilliant Idol In 60 Seconds:

**********

I’m going to be blunt in my language, and I can’t really care if you’re offended because the truth must be told. Fuck that James Durbin monstrosity, that Scotty McCreedy snoozefest, that Casey Abrams minstrel show, that Stefano Lagone sludge (that boy should NEVER dance again), that Lusk tragedian, and that Lauren Alaina…wait, what did she sing again? It’s an Idol world gone mad when Haley – whose affectations I’m usually allergic to – gave THE best performance of the night.

Lest you believe it was hyperbole, it was most certainly not.

What this week’s theme suggested was that perhaps I was actually wrong. For weeks I’ve moaned about the pigeonholed themes and applauded the broader ranged scenarios (not that they’re very successful, I know). All “Songs of the 21st Century” exhibited was the oft-used and very apt accusation from Idol’s biggest foes (and Simon Cowell) – it was a karaoke-fest of monumental proportions, with no one bringing nary a freshness nor a soupcon of eclecticism so desperately needed. It was a night of a thousand mimics.

Not effected by hermetic overtones of a weary public (though, not by his massive voting block), Scotty’s nevertheless testing my patience. I’ve defended his niche for weeks, but even for the less cynical (yeah, I am talking about myself), it’s getting enervating (the panel, perhaps getting the clarion call of the masses, finally gave some shape of a negative response – though McCreery was no better nor worse than he’s performed since week one). Country strong? He’s becoming a one-note Country rote.

But I’ll take a rote recital over intemperate pandering. For all the risible hosanna’s thrown at James Durbin after his gruesome, hideous cover of pretentious quasi-art-rockers – and hipster gods – Muse’s “Uprising”, you would have thought that that was Adam Lambert – a vocalist nonpareil deserving the heaped praise, weekly – striking his final pose on the stage. And if the foolish association with Lambert that haunts him is to be used as a prototype, what Durbin lacks – besides the near perfect-pitch delivery, the eternal range and the full throttle power of lungs – is Lambert’s authentic swagger. Lambert’s egoistic rock star shtick rang true because, love(d) him or loath(ed) him, his confidence was purely innate and he had the musical balls to back it up. Durbin’s feral intensity is indicative of nothing but his self-indulgence. He has plenty to learn. Reviewing Lambert’s season 8 gradient would be a good start.

Adele’s 21 is as near a perfect album as 2011 is probably going to get, so I cringed in abstract horror when it was announced that Haley was to perform “Rolling In The Deep”. My problems with Reinhart have been plentiful – I was never sure why I haven’t been getting ‘it’; bloated by excessive, gratuitous runs? Check. Her off-putting concupiscence? Arguable, but, yeah. Commanding her core constituency (read: fan base) without expanding on it has landed her in the lower rungs of elimination nights too often. And my catholic tastes (that’s small ‘c’, lest you think otherwise) have dismissed her incessantly. Sometimes, though, from the ashes rises a Phoenix. Only a buffoon would compare, so any analogies to Adele are automatically negated (and stupid), but Haley grunts, growls, swoops, swerves, moans and flutters, and it all works to an almost magical effect. Of course it’s not perfect – but those imperfections make it almost beautifully perfect. The sound you’ll hear in the midnight hours might be me eating my words. Upped a grade for making me a believer (this week anyway).

“Believer” isn’t a moniker I’d tag myself regarding Jacob Lusk, as you know. To the panel – and his, uh, ministry (?) – he’s a supernal force of nature and the second coming of Luther. Laughable, I know, but he at least, at long last, put their money where his mouth is. My contempt has waned recently due to my exhaustion at his recent hangdog mawkishness; I mean, I’m thankful for the evanescence of his farcical praise dance, but the recent, nascent defeat in his eyes is almost pathetic. Alas, his love of his deceased daddy, his love of his Jesus, his love of tears and his love of dramaturgy portends that voters love a good shtick. The donkeys always follow the carrot on the stick.

The remaining three fared no better than the rest. Idol’s cynosure since his groundless ‘judges save’ weeks ago, Abrams was in full-throttle rock and roll minstrelsy – but when your point of reference is Maroon 5, who’ve been selling blanched faux pale-boy funk to white America for a decade, you can see where the fine line between homage and gastroenteritis might be blurred to a judging table stacked with sycophants. While I understand that we can’t expect all our Latin heartthrobs to possess a celestial, classic voice like Mr. JLo, Marc Anthony’s, is it too much to implore for one with a scintilla of rhythm? Watching Langone’s exercise in ersatz klutziness was awkward at worst, comical at best. Or vice versa. And with a gargantuan Country catalogue of this still-new millennium to choose from, Alaina’s choice of a piffling Sara Evans non-entity only proves Iovine’s lack-of-confidence observation. She was once the fawning, giddy, talented ingénue whose steadfast belief in herself foreshadowed a powerful presence. She’s lately morphed into an almost glum, restrained existence, whose vocal prowess dissipates, yet whose worst days are never realized by the judges, who always form an aggregated aegis around her newfound fragility. Not that her “Born To Fly” ranks as a ‘worst’ anything. But when will the potential of the apprentice pass her audition peak?

A night whose theme suggested a theoretical grand-slam quickly descended into a long, piteous gasp of oxygen. Sometimes bathos and pathos are interchangeable.

**********

Scotty McCreery
Song: LeAnn Rimes’ SWINGIN’
My grade: B-

James Durbin
Song: Muse’s UPRISING
My grade: C

Haley Reinhart
Song: Adele’s ROLLING IN THE DEEP
My grade: A-

Jacob Lusk
Song: Luther Vandross’ DANCE WITH MY FATHER
My grade: C+

Casey Abrams
Song: Maroon 5′s HARDER TO BREATHE
My grade: C+

Stefano Langone
Song: Ne-Yo’s CLOSER
My grade: C+

Lauren Alaina
Song: Sara Evans’ BORN TO FLY
My grade: B

(original unchyroned photo courtesy Dan Johnson)

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So, I’m sitting at work eating my lunch when the subject of Idol popped in my head. It’s unusual, because from Thursday after Rickey’s “Secret Show Gone Wild” until the following Wednesday at 8, Idol is rarely on my mind, save for a few articles I might read over the weekend.

But something irritated me. Bear with me as I stream-of-consciously ramble on.

First things first – I’ve really got to halt the habit of grading the Idols before absorbing, as a whole, the performance nights. Grades are important to me, and flippantly dispersed – whether finite or not – isn’t conducive to any point or purpose, and altering the grades the next day might seem dubious. So, I’ll stick to the original grades I gave last Wednesday, however reluctantly. Yes, technically, I could shave a notch off each here or there (especially with Durbin and Alaina), but as I posted that evening, no one passed (and, as I also said, a ‘B’ is hardly a grade to sing about, no pun intended) and it’s not worth pondering such subpar recitals anyway.

Second things second – I know. What’s the point, really?

Is it worth attempting to fathom Idol this season anymore? I mean, in the scheme of things, Idol is merely pop culture. And, pop culture, even at its most vacant, is still just pop culture. And if we’re honest, Idol – which defined pop culture for years – is just as vacant.

Frustratingly, it was at almost this same point during last year’s remaining Top 7 of the WORST SINCE FIRST where I just couldn’t muster an iota of a scintilla of a fraction of care any longer and abruptly just…stopped. It might be time again.

The ouster of Pia Toscano two weeks ago was fodder for an all-out assault on the integrity of the show!!! A fiasco unlike anything Idol’s ever seen!!! (Not really – I’ve often said that hyperbole is a fool’s tool, and so it is). I already wrote my musings on the subject HERE, so I won’t reiterate my feelings about such overt over-the-top emotional output of the public regarding such (except only to add that Toscano’s elimination is not – in any way, shape or form – as outrageous as past Idol sins as, say Jasmine Trias making it to Top 3 in season 3 in lieu of LaToya London (or anyone, really), or the astonishing Allison Iraheta getting bumped after 4th place for the ghastly Danny Gokey, or Melinda Doolittle actually not winning season 6. I know there are plenty more examples, but these three are the first to pop up in my head).

I’ve said in past years that Idol is the world’s most expensive, elaborate popularity contest, and this season is no different on that front.

What is different is the judging panel – and what is justifiable it is the amplitude of the public assault toward Jennifer, Randy and Steven and their “everything is beautiful” mantras.

But you never would have noticed that during last week’s performance show. The lovefest was at its most consistently magical. And totally inept – as if Jackson, Lopez and especially Tyler all live in a golden-laced, palatial bubble, unaware of the town criers shouting “off with their heads!” Is it possible that they’ve not heard the tumult? Is it feasible that the disdain and scorn they’ve received from a viewership sick of the lies of the machine simply evaporated into thin air before ever reaching their ears?

Well, no, not really. At one point in the evening, Jennifer pointedly said, “You know, everybody wants us to be tough with you guys, but the truth is, you’re all so damn good!” So, yes, our derision is penetrating their thorny crowns and is trickling into their thick skulls. It’s also falling out their ears in a blatant disregard to actual criticism aimed at them.

It is fair to point out that, in the past half-decade or so of Idol, the denizens of the judges table (including Simon) rarely made any differences; has any judge had any influence on the voting public since season 4? While in theory, Idol is about finding the next superstar with the guidance of the panel, in reality, for the viewers, it’s purely a weekly pep rally to support their favorite team, no matter how embarrassing or abysmal the performances, no matter how obvious the assault on the senses. Call Idol the Musical Mets.

I’ll agree heartily that Simon’s absence is palpable. We sat on the edge of our sofa’s waiting his assessment, and we cheered or booed in affirmation or dissent his final word. But lest anyone believe otherwise, Cowell hasn’t made a ‘constructive’ critique – one point of ridicule that this year’s panel is receiving – in years. If ever. He merely gleefully blurted his opinion, and that was that (and, come on. He was phoning his analysis in during the whole of last season).

One might also suggest that for all his self-righteousness, we can blame Simon for a parade of Idol hacks and horrors. His initial appraisal and support for the most repugnant of vocalists (e.g. Ryan Star, Justin Guarini etc., fast-forwarding to Sanjaya Malakar to Kristy Lee Cool to Danny Gokey to Scott McIntyre to Sanjaya Malakar (yeah, I said it twice) to Katy Stevens to Lee DeWyze to a host of too-numerous-to-continue-listing-here musical pollutants) displayed his lack of the most fundamental understanding of what America considers viable pop stars that allowed him to push forward an agenda that was head-scratching at best, brain-atrophying at worst. See last year’s winner if you care to disagree (do you even remember – or want to – last year’s winner?)

Even so, it’s that Cowellian brute candor that is desperately needed this season. The very recent Idol backlash and its copious coverage in the blogosphere, by the Idol experts, in the magazine and newspaper reporting – that the judges lack a capacity to be critical – was shouted by me BACK IN EARLY MARCH, going so far as to say “I proposed a drinking game on twitter last night, and it could be fun: every time Tyler says “…that was beautiful…”, specifically after an otherwise dismal performance, we should all take a swig…”

Simon, above all, bridged a gap between reality and the surreal, whether you agreed, or agreed to disagree. There’s none of that this year. Tyler is a monumental embarrassment. Lopez might be “constructive” with her critique, but she merely finds new ways of praising our contestants within that critique. Jackson, who started the season as (his wishful thinking) heir-apparent to Cowell – insomuch that he called someone out on their lack of skill – has since toed the line (as he has for a decade, really), merely echoing, for the most part,his compatriot’s insipidness.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this post – I could rant ad nauseum. Apparently, I have.

I’ll end with this personal inquiry – can I aggregate enough discipline, care, intestinal fortitude – or even a modicum of want – to continue writing this Report Card for the next few weeks?

It’s a question only I could answer, I know. And to overuse an already overused cliche, only time will tell.

]]> http://americanidolreportcard.com/2011/04/18/american-idol-selling-blatant-lies-of-the-machine/feed/ 0 jeffreychrist http://americanidolreportcard.com/2011/04/13/ai-top-8-i-lost-it-at-the-movies/ http://americanidolreportcard.com/2011/04/13/ai-top-8-i-lost-it-at-the-movies/#comments Thu, 14 Apr 2011 03:07:51 +0000 jeffreychrist http://americanidolreportcard.wordpress.com/?p=1190 ]]>

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Full plate this evening, and I have to be up early in the A.M. so I won’t elaborate on my grades tonight. Will try to do a full Report Card tomorrow, or post-elimination show (bye bye Paul? Haley? Stefano?) on Friday.

As always, I reserve the right to alter these grades (and probably will) once I listen to the performances a second time, as is my usual metier when grading – for perspicuity’s sake, of course.

I’m not sure how we Idol viewers all relate to each other, but ain’t it nice that we all gather and emit our disparate voices across the blogosphere?

So, here are the grades (for now). And keep in mind that a “B” hardly constitutes a proud pass. Just sayin’.

Paul McDonald
Song: Bob Segar’s “Old Time Rock N Roll” (from RISKY BUSINESS)
My grade: D+

Lauren Alaina
Song: Miley Cyrus’ “The Climb” (from HANNAH MONTANA: THE MOVIE)
My grade: B

Stefano Legano
Song: BoysIIMen’s “End Of The Road” (from BOOMERANG)
My grade: B

Scotty McCreery
Song: George Strait’s “I Cross My Heart” (from PURE COUNTRY)
My grade: B

Casey Abrams
Song: Nat King Cole’s “Nature Boy” (from THE BOY WITH GREEN HAIR)
My grade: B

Haley Reinhart
Song: Blondie’s “Call Me” (from AMERICAN GIGOLO)
My grade: C+

Jacob Lusk
Song: Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” (from THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS)
My grade: B

James Durbin
Song: Sammy Hagar’s “Heavy Metal” (from HEAVY METAL)
My grade: B-

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With the copious coverage, the onslaught of conspiracy theories, the public rage and the absolute shock over Pia Toscano’s curious ouster from American Idol last Thursday, there’s not really all that much that I can add.

Or is there?

Well, obviously the truth is we’ll never really know the actual reason for her departure (if you wish to believe there are far more sinister works at play than she receiving the least amount of votes). Yet despite the universal approbation (and, to be fair, she is the only Idol to receive almost consistent high grades on my Report Cards weekly), methinks the outrage is perhaps a tad too histrionic.

Pia’s consistency is unmarked, sure, as she was – and is – clearly a more accomplished vocalist than any of the remaining eight wannabes left straggling (especially the two remaining banausic female vocalists). But, despite her mostly solid weekly recital, she never – ever – gave a great vocal.

I previously reiterated (during Toscano’s lovely “All In Love Is Fair” during Motown week) my mantra that Idol perfection is always a fool’s goal. With the exception of Kelly Clarkson, Fantasia, Melinda Doolittle and Adam Lambert, no Idol had ever reached a zenith of transcendence on the Idol stage. So, flawlessness should never be expected (and, sometimes, imperfection makes for a more tangibility).

But was it wrong for viewers to command as equal an emotional connection from Toscano’s performances as their emotional investment in her? For all her forced power, Toscano displayed little ardent resonance to her song selections. With the confidence of an Olympian archer, she aimed, shot and (mostly, though never always) nailed the bull’s-eyed notes, but more often than not, because of that sturdy focus, she became her own worst inhibitor, annulling the necessary correlation between the ‘singing’ and the ‘song’ that separates the greenhorns from the greats.

That’s not to say that Toscano doesn’t have the fortitude for what it takes. And above anyone else this season (who’ve made it to the Top 12, that is) who should continue his or her strive for a Clarksonian or a Fantasian Utopia, whether he’d or she’d victor or fail, it’s definitely and defiantly Toscano. So, more power to her.

Or, rather, less power and more emotional fortitude.

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Click the below picture for one of the more perfect commentaries regarding the aforementioned theories – my friend, Idol expert Jim Cantiello’s justifiable (and hilarious, I might add) reprimand to the main culprit’s in Pia’s expulsion – the judges…

Shame, shame, shame...ON YOU, Judges!

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Last exploited with Season 7s Top 4 (David Cook, David Archuleta, Syesha Mercado and Jason Castro), Rock N Roll Hall of Fame is one of those voluminous themes that I can appreciate for the pure scope of material to derive from.

But the RnRHoF is not actually the theme, because neither one artist nor their catalogue need to be in the Hall for the Idol’s to perform (now that would’ve been super sweet – imagine Pia doing “Ray Of Light” by inductee Madonna to appease the judges’ weekly wish for her to lay off the ballads!) The real theme – though I don’t think Ryan mentioned it -  is 500 Songs That Shaped Rock and Roll (no “Ray Of Light”, but raise your hand if the marriage of Haley and “Like A Virgin” titillates your sensorium!) which, according to Hall guardian James Henke, is a list “compiled with input from the museum’s curatorial staff and numerous rock critics and music experts…” (thanx Wikipedia!).

While it’s an expansive reach that touches the genres of each contestant’s métier, we’ll never be sure just how many of the 500 actually cleared for Idol, so we’re not really sure the full list of choices the T9 had to choose from.

The 500 Songs… list wasn’t utilized so well last go around.  I mean, my Report Card headline read “Jason Castro Must Be Destroyed” (yep, his “I Shot The Sheriff” and “Mr. Tambourine Man” are infamous Idol abortions that are still recalled with horror – and it was his long-overdue swan song. Though the headline skewered metaphorically, not literally). Since it was top 4, the finalists were given 2 choices (the best of that night? Of course, David Archuleta’s “Love Me Tender”). But, like that Top 4, there’s such a stark contrast in styles and sensibilities in this year’s Top 9 that you could only proverbially hold your breath. I did. And you know what? I exhaled. Because, after all is said and done, and despite a few mishaps throughout the evening, Rock N Roll comes out unscathed.

“If I wind up in the bottom three, it won’t be because I sang the song bad, it won’t be because I sang the song wrong. It’ll be because everybody in America wasn’t ready to look at themselves in the mirror…” To which I reply “What conviction! What pride! What a bunch of absolute horse shit!” Not sure what his gobbledygook signified, exactly (what, the panel’s weekly masturbatory drug-induced fantasies aren’t enough for your ego, you buffoon?), with those actual words spewing out of his gargantuan head right before delivering another in an elongated line of vocal Sturm und Dangs, Tyler Perry’s Jacob Lusk (that’s what my brilliant, hilarious and, sadly, spot on, friend, Jim Cantiello, has perfectly nicknamed him) not only all but guarantees himself a spot in the bottom three for his staggering impertinence (my fingers are crossed), but it would be a long time a-comin’ for this howling, shrieking, drag queen to disappear from our screens every week. It’s time, America. Send this Idol menace home. Or to Logo.

Not content with being this year’s Idol cipher, Reinhart – to those who couldn’t see past the charade – mustered an afore unseen groove last week with a giddily mediagenic “Bennie & The Jets” (in which the teenpop machination of her basis slyly alluded to a more ‘adult’ métier, whether she – or we, really – knew it or not). Not so lucky this week. The idol joke of the year – besides the fawning over Jacob – is the “Janis” moniker the judges desperately tried to pin on Reinhart. Janis Joplin? By way of what, the mouseketeers? If Kidzbop recorded a version of, say, “Me & Bobbie McGee”, would you still call that “Joplin”? No. Tolerable? Sure. Affected? Heh, of course, don’t be ridiculous. Not the embarrassment I was hoping for (for a swift dismissal), she still musters merely a B- for performance, but for the chutzpah to take on a rock icon of Joplin’s stature and not totally fail? She get’s an A plus for that.

Casey’s owed us some blue-eyed (?) soul for months now, and by pulling out his stand-up bass and interpreting the great CCR “Have You Ever Seen The Rain” with a restrained, winsome vocal, he – temporarily, anyway – found the mojo and sparkling elucidation that won me – and many others – over during the auditions and Hollywood weeks. Let’s just hope this isn’t provisional. Playing it safe or vocal rein? Does it matter? It was my favorite performance of the evening. Lauren, on the other hand – perchance due to her youth – lacked any corporeal alliance to Aretha’s “Natural Woman”. I’ll agree with Randy that it was a “good job” for a “difficult” song – Alaina does boast a strong, if pedestrian, voice – it was too dainty to make any real dent. But it sure was pretty.

Durbin’s instinct to shout to the rafters even when not necessary, forgoing quieter moments, is a frustrating power-over-emoting mechanism. That final banshee yowl is what almost invalidated an otherwise effective, reflective take on the Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. But no one’s ever accused him of understatement. It struck me as hypocritical (as it did with Lusk earlier) that Randy failed to call out Durbin’s “pitchiness”, as he often does, especially the final fail wail, but in Durbin’s case, the imperfections worked for the obvious poignant toll the song has on his psyche.

Idol is merely batting practice for an almost surefire superstar status (now there’s an alliteration), I know, but technically, if there’s a fault in Scotty’s unabashedly proud Americana (besides his apparent awkward duet disability – see last week’s “I Told You So” – and peculiar facial tics), it’s his timbre. Not aesthetically, of course – that’s pure and blissfully hokey – but rather, it lacks youth, which, ironically, given his age, should be a marketable stronghold. His Elvis impersonation didn’t help in that regard, but, despite its corny glacé, worked as good as any Elvis impersonator currently seen on the Vegas strip.  And, speaking of Vegas… Pia let slip during last week’s interwoven, post-performance mini-interview that she was performing “River Deep, Mountain High”, and my immediate fear came to fruition. Sung as powerfully and vocally adroit as is her forte (despite the very noticeable misses on more than just a few notes), Pia eschewed the grit and intensity of Tina Turner’s monster chops, instead merely enervated the much needed joy by invoking Celine Dion’s soulless version. She sang the hell out of it, that’s a given. But at what cost?

Unfair, the panel’s incessant whines regarding Pia’s weekly ballad recitals when Langone is, while preferable, just as guilty. His forceful nature always nullifies the effect/affect he’s aiming for, and there’s nary a time we don’t know he’s performing. While his “When A Man Loves A Woman” lacks the vital sophistication, his voice is gorgeous and his cadential falsetto assuages any physical melodramatics.

We’ve become dependent on Paul’s burring, but he’s testing my patience on a weekly basis. There’s never been an iota of lung power to anchor his flinty chops, which isn’t a necessity for his hipster (and not to mention cougar) appeal, but even he’s never been more mush-mouthed and indecipherable. He’s merely a derivative. Of himself.

REPORT CARD:

Jacob Lusk
Song: Michael Jackson’s MAN IN THE MIRROR
My grade: D (docked a FULL grade for his audacity and innuendo)

Haley Reinhart
Song: Janis Joplin’s PIECE OF MY HEART
My grade: B-

Casey Abrams
Song: Creedence Clearwater Revival’s HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE RAIN
My grade: B+

Lauren Alaina
Song: Aretha Franklin’s NATURAL WOMAN
My grade: B

James Durbin
Song: The Beatles’ WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS
My grade: B+

Scotty McCreery
Song: Elvis Presley’s THAT’S ALL RIGHT MAMA
My grade: B+

Pia Toscano
Song: Ike & Tina Turner’s RIVER DEEP & MOUNTAIN HIGH
My grade: B

Stefano Langone
Song: Percy Sledge’s WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN
My grade: B

Paul McDonald
Song: Johnny Cash’s FOLSOM PRISON BLUES
My grade: B-

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