Kellie Cracked Corn and I Don't Care. AI Re-cap 4/18

I don’t care.

Yes, that’s right, I really don’t care. I sat down last night to watch Idol and do my re-cap and thought to myself, “I have better things to do, I’ll leave it till later.” Well, later came and I still didn’t care. The truth is, with one exception, this is by far the worst crop of Idols ever. You all know my choice, Elliott, is likely to get voted off within the next two weeks and without him, I wouldn’t give a nickel for all the other six combined. Last year, I had A-Fed, who, had I been a force of will, I would have gotten rid of very early on, but stuck around and actually improved every week. And of course, there was Bo, who I rooted for endlessly up to the very end. Season 3 had LaToya going to the Top 4. Seasons 1 & 2 were new and less pimping was going on, so it still felt like a competition rather than the greatest snow on earth. So I decided now, I just don’t care.

Then this morning, my friend Nic called me. Nic has warned me not to refer to him in my re-caps by his real name. He wants a pseudonym. I told him as soon as he does something worthy enough for a pseudonym, he’ll get one, but for the time being, he’s shit out of luck. Anyhow, Nic called me and said one word.

“Well?”

Nic loves Idol, but hates to talk about it. So for him to actually pick up a phone and elicit a response from me, while at work, I knew there was something unmissable about last night. So after I hung up on him and rolled back over to sleep, then got up, did my thing and returned home, I contemplated the re-cap. Then I sighed and realized again, I had better things to do. After all, it’s not as though I’m getting paid for this, like the TwoP guys. By the way, have you read their last few re-caps? Is Paula ghostwriting for them? Complete and utter unintelligible crap. Well, they can have it.

Signing online, I found messages from people-

Flock, where is your re-cap?

I got up this morning and there was nothing! What’s going on??

I didn’t watch the show last night. I need your re-cap to tell me what happened.

And so on and so forth….

Besides being a complete whore for positive feedback, I realized I had an obligation to the twelve or so people who read my re-caps every week. All season, I’ve led them on and I can’t possibly get up and walk away after only taking them to second base. We have to go all the way, kids, get to the top of the ship, ride the glass elevator down the burning high-rise, smack the shit out of Karen Black until her eyes uncross and she can land that fucking 747. So I’m here and I’m doing it for you.

And I’m a complete whore for positive feedback.
Crazy frog Seacrest is sporting his tribute to argyle socks by way of his tacky tie. There are way more signs in the audience tonight, so many that they almost completely cover Marilu Henner, who is in the audience with a very young boy who must be a child she had by surrogate, since that one’s womb dried up somewhere between “Perfect” and her flop talk show.

Seacrest smarms a bit, then introduces tonight’s theme, which is The Great American Songbook. This week’s past their glory guest is Rod Stewart, who has raped and pillaged this treasure trove of musical history, never underestimating the devotion of post-menopausal women who still remember when a mid ‘70s Rod made them as moist as a dish sponge. Rod’s voice is just gone. Alana Stewart Hamilton apparently got it in the divorce years ago and whatever was left, he gave over to Rachel Hunter.

We see Rod trying to justify why he took the snoozy way out and he talks about how these songs were the pre-cursors to Rock & Roll. Well, yes, Rod, in the same way that the Virginia Reel was the pre-cursor to the Charleston in that they came before each other. After speaking, Rod twists his mouth toward his mole and asks “S’alright?” To which the mole squeaks “S’alright, mate.”

We see a quick montage of everyone working with Rod and hear everyone sing except for Ace, who just gets a hug from Rod. Kellie is wearing a low cut top and her face, as well as her rack, falls when she sees Stewart has turned up at the rehearsal with his model girlfriend and their infant son. Kellie gets misty because it makes her think of her own son, I mean brother, back home in Albermarle.

We start the show off with Chris and ever since I saw the lobotomy victim that was his father last week, I can’t help but look at Chris in an even more negative light. All I hear is that droning monotone. Maybe John Peter Lewis needs help at the pen factory. Chris is singing “What a Wonderful World,” which is a song I despise. Chris is getting very breathy and waddles dangerously into Ace country while rehearsing with Rod. Chris says it’s harder for him to sing this sort of music because he’s used to belting out to the top of his lungs. Translation- I usually just scream and whatever sticks to the wall, well, that’s it.

Chris is dressed for that bartending gig he has to go to after the show is over. He starts out shaky, but it’s not bad, until he gets to the middle of the song and starts channeling Kowalczyk again. Not that Live covered this song, for all I know, but Chris just relies so heavily on emulating their lead singer, right down to the Parkinson’s disease vibrato, that all I can really do is just shrug.

Paula is smitten once again as she claps over her head, boobies a-heavin’. Simon looks so relieved that he doesn’t have to push Taylor as TCO and can get back to his original agenda. Randy says that Chris has proven that there is another side of him as a singer. I disagree. He sang it exactly the same way, he just quieted it down. Paula completely speaks for Simon and I just wish he would grab her by the extensions and slam her face down on the counter to shut her gaping maw up for good. Simon takes credit for Chris changing up his style and wildly overpraises him. Let me be clear, Chris wasn’t bad, he just wasn’t the second coming like the judges have all tried to foist upon him. But, let him win, it’s not going to do a thing for his career.

Paris is up next with a pimp-spot interview. She has her hair pulled back and a horsetail swiped from the Gene Autry museum attached to the back of her head with a clip. She also appears to have raided the wardrobe dept. at Fox and put on Sigourney Weaver’s costume from “Working Girl.” We get to hear all about what Paris did this weekend. She got an Easter basket and went roller skating and dancing with some friends (probably the Hugga Bunch pals).

Paris does sound good in the rehearsals with Rod and this may well be what everyone who was wowed by her initial audition has been waiting for, ever since. The problem is that we’ve gotten to know Paris since then and suffered through all her wigs and terrible performances and ego trips and once the damage is done, the damage is done. She may sing like an angel tonight, but I don’t think it’s going to change my impression of her.

Paris is singing “These Foolish Things,” and I’m closing my eyes so I don’t have to watch her stupid smile. I just want to be able to listen. What I’m hearing, besides singing well, is some weird, faux-french Eartha Kitt pronunciations. The vocals sound good, but affected. A slight bit of trouble on the lower register, but definitely a good performance. This is the thing for Paris, as well as Elliott. Pop music is not their forte. They are jazz vocalists and if either were to win, they would get packaged completely the wrong way. I would be happy to hear Paris sing like this the whole rest of the way, as long as I never had to hear her utter another word in her horrible speaking voice. And let’s see how big the ego gets next week since the judges are falling all over themselves, praising her.

We’re back with Taylor Hicks and instead of addressing the rumour that he’s a recovered alkie who was insulted by Simon’s proclamation that he was drunk last week while singing, Ryan brings up the desperately unfunny parody of Hicks done on Saturday Night Live this past week. They forgot to mention the one they did of Chris at the end of the broadcasting day when they showed the test pattern. Taylor of course loved it because it gives him an excuse to do his schtick. Ryan asks Taylor if he was offended and Taylor’s response- “No, flattery is a great form of humor.” Well, yes, when people flatter you, I tend to find it humorous, if a bit inexplicable.

Taylor is singing “You Send Me,” by Sam Cooke. Pardon me, but how is that a standard? I mean, I know it’s old, but wouldn’t that have been more at home during Barry Manilow week? Oh lord, Rod Stewart is encouraging Taylor to move around and dance onstage, so I’d better brace myself for Ticky McJumpy. Taylor comes out restrained and a bit dull. He’s technically proficient with the song, but he appears to be bored doing it. Then toward the end, his need for a Detrol LA kicks in and he starts squinching his crotch and shuddering like a fat Model T. His vocals completely go to shit as he has a premature orgasm in his pants and sacrifices voice for tics. The judges get it completely wrong by loving up that horrible ending. Even Simon proclaims it magic.

So far, I’m bored. My re-cap is boring, too.

Back from commercial and some brain-dead Von Trapp clone is holding up a sign in the audience that says “Ryan, will you be our brother?” I can’t fathom what that’s supposed to mean unless it’s in some sort of weird, demented, Flowers in the Attic scenario. Ryan is in the audience, surprise surprise, right in front of Ace’s creepy brother, probably asking what sort of chocolates Ace likes.

Elliott is with Rod Stewart and we’ve finally found someone since Stevie Wonder who Elliott is familiar with. He loves Rod and is honored to be in his presence. The feeling was mutual. Elliott is singing “It Had to Be You.” I’m going to make a prediction. He’s going to be awesome and Simon is going to dismiss the performance. Well, he was awesome and had good stage presence. His vocal was restrained, but not dull like Taylor’s was. Let’s go to the judges. Randy liked it, Paula loved it, Simon dissed Elliott’s personality and barely gave him props for the vocal. Gosh, I ought to open up a palm reading salon.

Kellie is next and in her rehearsal time with Rod, she tries out some new material on him. Byrd is there and even she looks embarrassed. Kellie is singing “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,” three words I’m sure she’ll say she’s never heard of before. The vocal was decent. A couple of pitch problems, but I have to say, it’s the best she’s ever sounded and the clearest, also. This seems to be a good genre for the idols, but not such a hot one for re-cappers.

Surprisingly, the judges, after being handed a Pickler performance it wouldn’t be completely embarrassing to praise, botch it. Randy wasn’t impressed, Paula talks about the fashion and then says she can’t wait for Kellie’s acting career to begin. Sweetheart, it began the day she walked into that audition and mooed “Pick Pickler.” Simon also didn’t like it, but gave Kellie plenty of time to give her schtick and milk unnecessary sympathy from the audience. Okay, here’s where it becomes a problem for me. Kellie, with the exception of one or two bum notes, really didn’t do anything wrong, and in the whole pantheon of Kellie performances, this was the first one to show that she might actually have a voice under all her bullshit, yet she’s still forced to ladle on the cornpone and false humility. I’m seriously getting fed up with this show.

I’m counting on my man Ace to not let me down and to be a complete disaster. I need a disaster tonight and since McPhee was practically beaten with a wire hanger to learn this genre, it’s doubtful I’m gonna get it from her, so Ace is my go-to guy. Ace is singing “That’s All.” If anyone has ever heard Dianne Reeves version of this, then there’s no point in having to ever listen to fucking Ace Young butcher it.

Ace walks out in a suit and his hair slicked back in a Wall Street-Gordon Gekko late ‘80s ‘do that looks ridiculous. Within the first verse, Ace is singing through his nose, which proves you can dress the boy up, but you can’t take the boy band out of him. Ace is still clutching his abs, holding one hand out and bouncing, doing his dreadful falsetto. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t the disaster I wanted it to be. Randy says he’d rather hear Ace sing the whole song falsetto. Yeah, randy, that’s JUST want we need. Paula liked it and Simon even gave it some praise.

Katharine is last and I’m just looking to wrap this up. She’ll be singing “Someone to Watch Over Me,” which is much too low for her, at least in rehearsal. Katharine is sitting at the foot of the stage, dressed in one of Peisha’s old power suits. She’s smiling so genuinely into the camera, how can you not want to buy the cooking oil she’s selling? Oh, that’s right, she’s singing a song, not espousing the virtues of Wessonality. I got confused. This chick is the epitome of spokesmodel. The camera isn’t doing her any favors, giving her such extreme close-ups, that I’m about ready to suit up with Raquel Welch and take our ship into McPhee’s left nostril and sail around her bloodstream.

Someone who’ll watch over me-ee-ee-eeheehee-hee-ee-yeah-eh-ah. It was a dull performance with way too many beauty pageant smiles. Boooo-ring. The judges love it. Simon says Katharine made the others look like amateurs. Okay, sorry, I don’t get her appeal. I never have, I never will.

No one outright sucked tonight except for me. How can you be funny listening to elevator music? You can’t. No one stood out, no one pissed their pants, but I’ll give you 1-7, anyway.

1- Paris
2- Elliott
3- Kellie (god help me)
4- Chris
5- Taylor
6- Katharine
7- Ace

Who should go- Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace.
Who will go- Elliott, and then probably me.

See folks, you weren’t missing anything this week. I’m off to go hunt Nic down and kill him for getting my hopes up. By the way, the “well?” he was referring to was Kellie, who he thought was a disaster. I wish I could have shared his opinion.

Until next time, when my rage should be at it’s peak…

Seagulls out.