You Can Leave Your Shoes On. AI Re-cap 2/22/07
One blessed hour, thank goodness. I’m just up and refreshed from a nap and ready to tackle the injustice. Well, except for Melinda Doolittle, I wouldn’t cry to see anyone leave tonight, so I suppose injustice is the wrong word. Oh, wait, Fantasia is performing tonight. THAT’s what I meant by injustice. I knew we were going somewhere with this.
Tonight two guys and two gals will get to slink off in shame. Thankfully, they’ve had the practice after the rotten performances that were given by almost all this week. I’ve got my favorites (two) and those I wouldn’t vomit involuntarily over having to listen to again (two). But right about now I’m thinking Marlee Matlin is the luckiest person in the world.
Seacrest stands in front of the Top 24, who are crowded onstage as though they were trying to fit in the final Titanic lifeboat. Chris Sligh looks properly over it. Look, Arbuckle, you’ve already sold your soul. You’ll never be cool again so you may as well smile like all the rest of them. Besides, when people with multiple chins smile, it makes them look a slight bit thinner and every little bit would help.
Ryan says they had almost 32 million votes, but there’s no hyperbole along for the ride. My guess is that’s nothing to brag about. He asks Randy if, after the lackluster performance by the guys Tuesday night, they will see one at the finale. Randy says it’s a girl’s race to lose. Simon says there are one or two guys who have potential (read: one or two guys I could turn into a Timberlake-lite, so let’s not give it to an unmarketable black girl just yet). And Paula, who I was about to state looked fairly with-it tonight, is like a deer in the headlights when asked if she has a message for the boys (Let me help- “There are Xeroxed directions to my house backstage, boys. Pick up some Hypnotiq on the way, but keep in mind, I pass out by 10:30.”). What she really slurs is “Bring it on.” Fucking Hallmark, man, so inspirational.
Ryan tells us the importance of making it to the Top 12 and then totally shoots that theory out of the water when he introduces some of the names that are booked to help the kids out this season. Diana Ross. Jon Bon Jovi. Jennifer Lopez. Gwen Stefani. Martina McBride. And the corpses of Tony Bennett, Lulu and Peter Noone. Plus Barry Gibb. At least the final four know something about singing, though their help and their experiences will be lost on this crowd. I’d be excited to work with Lulu and Barry Gibb. Let’s hope these kids use the internet for something other than porn and look these folks up. As for the others, what the fuck do Jennifer Lopez & Gwen Stefani know about how to sing well? For them it only occurs after the push of a button. And Diana Ross has the thinnest reed of a voice and is even a megabitch in her sleep. Oh god, so much fodder! I’m suddenly happier about my prospects for this season.
Re-cap city for the past two nights, and then we get a group sing. The wannabes are performing “Sowing the Seeds of Love,” by Tears For Fears and it sounds like the beginning of one of those urban high school movies starring The Rock or Martin Lawrence where some streetwise cop is hired to turn a bunch of misfits into the choral district champions in six weeks and finds THIS is what he has to work with. Oh my god, it was so horrendous, I might never recover. I half expected them to start performing a skit about how wack drugs were and to Just Say No. This is the kind of stuff they make you listen to at religious cult indoctrinations. I never thought I’d say this, but Fantasia has to be better than that.
Back from the break and Ryan has the guys on the risers. It’s Q&A time. Chris Sligh backpedals away from his Tuesday night comments to Simon so fast, he easily lost five pounds explaining how much respect he has for Cowell and how he fears he was taken the wrong way. He would hate for America to get the wrong idea. I see someone’s been reading the forums. Here’s an idea, Chris, keep your fucking chin hole shut and America won’t get the wrong idea. Ryan cuts the first guy. He asks the back to join him onstage. Brandon is safe. Jason, inexplicably, is safe, so we’ll get to see him fail yet another week. Chris Richardson is safe, no big shocker there. Nick Pedro is also safe, so it’s down to Paul Kim and Blake Lewis. Wow, the suspense is killing me. Paul is wearing shoes tonight, all the better since he’ll be walking out the door. Well, I’m batting .250 so far and I couldn’t be happier. I loathed Paul Kim, though it’s a tad bittersweet since he was so horrible, he made my job that much easier. Chin up, kid, now at least you can wash the skidmarks out of those funky lucky drawers. Ryan asks Randy to give Paul some helpful advice, which is about as likely as him going two whole sentences without going all bligga on our asses. Randy blathers on about song choice instead of telling Paul that, though Boy Bands may still be the hot thing in Shanghai, in this country they’ve gone the way of corded phones and Monica Lewinsky jokes. Ryan asks Paula if Kim has enough to make it and for once, the lie is readily apparent on her face as she gently sidesteps the direct question. Ryan asks Paul to sing for his fans one more time, however they don’t immediately evacuate the studio and turn off the cameras, so the rest of us are stuck listening to him, also. Paul is doing that weird accent thing again when he sings (forever is sung as fow-weva) and easy fodder aside, I’m glad he’s going home because he would have been truly annoying to listen to again. Hedwig has joined me on the couch and is trying to crawl under my legs. I know, baby, but he’s going home.
Girl time on the risers as Ryan continues his hard hitting journalistic ways. The back row joins Seacrest onstage. I don’t see Amy Krebs up there and Melinda Doolittle is at the end of the row with Antonella Barba, so hopefully Ryan is gonna pull something sneaky or why bother with the whole thing? Jordin is safe. Stephanie is safe. Sabrina is safe. Leslie is safe and her grouchy brother smiles for the first time. Both Melinda and Antonella are safe. See, Ryan is predictable even in his unpredictability. Instead, Amy Krebs is asked to come to the stage and then told she’s history. Okay, so I’m now at .500, but I also predicted Leslie would go home (though I didn’t think she deserved to) so I won’t be scoring perfectly this evening. Krebs looks pissed, which is the first personality trait I’ve seen cross her face. Ciao, Amy, I can’t even remember you and I’m looking right at you. While Amy sings, Nicole and Alaina are sweating bullets in the background. I had Alaina as my second pick of who should go, but I thought she’d squeak by on the bim vote, as well as some sympathy after Simon ripped her a new one. Melinda Doolittle is seen bawling like a little girl, as is Sanjaya Malakar. Yeah, that’ll help his image if he isn’t already sexual roadkill.
Ryan introduces a contest called the American Idol Challenge, however instead of actually being a competition to see which viewer will actually make it through the whole season, it’s just some dumb trivia question. Which of the following Idol winners multi-platinum albums was called “Breakaway?” The choices are Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson and Fantasia Barrino. Ahh, a trick question, since Fantasia didn’t sell anything close to a multi-platinum album.
Hey everybody, it’s Bo Bo time. Fantasia is introduced and we see Quincy Jones in the audience, for once without a white woman on his arm. Fantasia announces the news, which I broke in the forums last week, that she’ll be taking over the role of Miss Celie in the Broadway musical version of “The Color Purple.” So nice to see her continuing her Cable-Ace-Award-seeking acting career. Apparently, it was between her and the lady who played Pearl Shea on “227,” but when the producers found out that woman was dead, they went with Barrino, figuring she’d sell more tickets than a corpse. The jury is still out on that one. I pledge to you, dear readers, that if the show hasn’t been evicted by the time I’m in NYC for work this summer (Fantasia doesn’t take over until early April), then I will score some comps and sit through it again (I’m sure as hell not paying) and report back to you how Fantasia did. Ryan asks Q if Fantasia is up to the task, then cuts him off in the middle of his answer. Barrino sings a number from the show called “I’m Here.” She pronounces the word sister “shsishther,” which means she was hanging around Paul Kim in the green room too long. In fact, every ssss is pronounced shhhh. Fantasia is trying really hard not to bobo. I’m trying hard not to hit the fast forward button. Whoops, looks like we both lost the challenge.
Girl cut happening. Haley is safe (for tonight). Lakisha is safe. Gina is safe. Between Alaina and Nicole, Alaina is safe, so the bim vote won out. Nicole should have gotten one more week, if only to spare us another horrid Alaina performance, but I won’t miss her and Alaina’s time is coming very soon. Nicole is actually very classy in her loss. Lakisha tries to take the stage “in support” and she’s quickly shut down by the director. You had your moment, honey, let the loser sing her song badly by herself. Wow, Nicole is triply worse tonight than she was last night. I’m outta here til after the next break.
Tell the truth, does anyone really give a shit how The O.C. ends? Did anyone know it was even still on the air?
Last cut for the evening. Chris is safe, but he better keep his mouth shut next week. Phil is safe. Jared is safe, as is AJ. Apparently America likes their boys flaming, since Sanjaya was in the Top 4 boys. That means Rudy is going home. I predicted AJ, but no big loss. I hated Rudy. I hope Tom Lowe is watching and smiling. Sanjaya can barely make it to his seat before the waterworks begin. Ryan looks for some words of wisdom for Rudy from Simon, but may have wished he hadn’t asked after Simon basically tells Rudy to give up the ghost. Randy isn’t much more help, but Paula, denied some Rudy slamming in her boudoir, goes to bat for him. We’re left with a montage of the first four losers’ journeys, backed by a Daughtry track that, though middlingly average, is much more pleasing to listen to than that fucking Daniel Powter song.
That’s the haps for tonight. Join me next week when we’re mercifully spared with an hour less Idol than this week. 90 minute performance shows and an hour wrap-up. Take your vitamins, kids.
Seagulls out.
Tonight two guys and two gals will get to slink off in shame. Thankfully, they’ve had the practice after the rotten performances that were given by almost all this week. I’ve got my favorites (two) and those I wouldn’t vomit involuntarily over having to listen to again (two). But right about now I’m thinking Marlee Matlin is the luckiest person in the world.
Seacrest stands in front of the Top 24, who are crowded onstage as though they were trying to fit in the final Titanic lifeboat. Chris Sligh looks properly over it. Look, Arbuckle, you’ve already sold your soul. You’ll never be cool again so you may as well smile like all the rest of them. Besides, when people with multiple chins smile, it makes them look a slight bit thinner and every little bit would help.
Ryan says they had almost 32 million votes, but there’s no hyperbole along for the ride. My guess is that’s nothing to brag about. He asks Randy if, after the lackluster performance by the guys Tuesday night, they will see one at the finale. Randy says it’s a girl’s race to lose. Simon says there are one or two guys who have potential (read: one or two guys I could turn into a Timberlake-lite, so let’s not give it to an unmarketable black girl just yet). And Paula, who I was about to state looked fairly with-it tonight, is like a deer in the headlights when asked if she has a message for the boys (Let me help- “There are Xeroxed directions to my house backstage, boys. Pick up some Hypnotiq on the way, but keep in mind, I pass out by 10:30.”). What she really slurs is “Bring it on.” Fucking Hallmark, man, so inspirational.
Ryan tells us the importance of making it to the Top 12 and then totally shoots that theory out of the water when he introduces some of the names that are booked to help the kids out this season. Diana Ross. Jon Bon Jovi. Jennifer Lopez. Gwen Stefani. Martina McBride. And the corpses of Tony Bennett, Lulu and Peter Noone. Plus Barry Gibb. At least the final four know something about singing, though their help and their experiences will be lost on this crowd. I’d be excited to work with Lulu and Barry Gibb. Let’s hope these kids use the internet for something other than porn and look these folks up. As for the others, what the fuck do Jennifer Lopez & Gwen Stefani know about how to sing well? For them it only occurs after the push of a button. And Diana Ross has the thinnest reed of a voice and is even a megabitch in her sleep. Oh god, so much fodder! I’m suddenly happier about my prospects for this season.
Re-cap city for the past two nights, and then we get a group sing. The wannabes are performing “Sowing the Seeds of Love,” by Tears For Fears and it sounds like the beginning of one of those urban high school movies starring The Rock or Martin Lawrence where some streetwise cop is hired to turn a bunch of misfits into the choral district champions in six weeks and finds THIS is what he has to work with. Oh my god, it was so horrendous, I might never recover. I half expected them to start performing a skit about how wack drugs were and to Just Say No. This is the kind of stuff they make you listen to at religious cult indoctrinations. I never thought I’d say this, but Fantasia has to be better than that.
Back from the break and Ryan has the guys on the risers. It’s Q&A time. Chris Sligh backpedals away from his Tuesday night comments to Simon so fast, he easily lost five pounds explaining how much respect he has for Cowell and how he fears he was taken the wrong way. He would hate for America to get the wrong idea. I see someone’s been reading the forums. Here’s an idea, Chris, keep your fucking chin hole shut and America won’t get the wrong idea. Ryan cuts the first guy. He asks the back to join him onstage. Brandon is safe. Jason, inexplicably, is safe, so we’ll get to see him fail yet another week. Chris Richardson is safe, no big shocker there. Nick Pedro is also safe, so it’s down to Paul Kim and Blake Lewis. Wow, the suspense is killing me. Paul is wearing shoes tonight, all the better since he’ll be walking out the door. Well, I’m batting .250 so far and I couldn’t be happier. I loathed Paul Kim, though it’s a tad bittersweet since he was so horrible, he made my job that much easier. Chin up, kid, now at least you can wash the skidmarks out of those funky lucky drawers. Ryan asks Randy to give Paul some helpful advice, which is about as likely as him going two whole sentences without going all bligga on our asses. Randy blathers on about song choice instead of telling Paul that, though Boy Bands may still be the hot thing in Shanghai, in this country they’ve gone the way of corded phones and Monica Lewinsky jokes. Ryan asks Paula if Kim has enough to make it and for once, the lie is readily apparent on her face as she gently sidesteps the direct question. Ryan asks Paul to sing for his fans one more time, however they don’t immediately evacuate the studio and turn off the cameras, so the rest of us are stuck listening to him, also. Paul is doing that weird accent thing again when he sings (forever is sung as fow-weva) and easy fodder aside, I’m glad he’s going home because he would have been truly annoying to listen to again. Hedwig has joined me on the couch and is trying to crawl under my legs. I know, baby, but he’s going home.
Girl time on the risers as Ryan continues his hard hitting journalistic ways. The back row joins Seacrest onstage. I don’t see Amy Krebs up there and Melinda Doolittle is at the end of the row with Antonella Barba, so hopefully Ryan is gonna pull something sneaky or why bother with the whole thing? Jordin is safe. Stephanie is safe. Sabrina is safe. Leslie is safe and her grouchy brother smiles for the first time. Both Melinda and Antonella are safe. See, Ryan is predictable even in his unpredictability. Instead, Amy Krebs is asked to come to the stage and then told she’s history. Okay, so I’m now at .500, but I also predicted Leslie would go home (though I didn’t think she deserved to) so I won’t be scoring perfectly this evening. Krebs looks pissed, which is the first personality trait I’ve seen cross her face. Ciao, Amy, I can’t even remember you and I’m looking right at you. While Amy sings, Nicole and Alaina are sweating bullets in the background. I had Alaina as my second pick of who should go, but I thought she’d squeak by on the bim vote, as well as some sympathy after Simon ripped her a new one. Melinda Doolittle is seen bawling like a little girl, as is Sanjaya Malakar. Yeah, that’ll help his image if he isn’t already sexual roadkill.
Ryan introduces a contest called the American Idol Challenge, however instead of actually being a competition to see which viewer will actually make it through the whole season, it’s just some dumb trivia question. Which of the following Idol winners multi-platinum albums was called “Breakaway?” The choices are Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson and Fantasia Barrino. Ahh, a trick question, since Fantasia didn’t sell anything close to a multi-platinum album.
Hey everybody, it’s Bo Bo time. Fantasia is introduced and we see Quincy Jones in the audience, for once without a white woman on his arm. Fantasia announces the news, which I broke in the forums last week, that she’ll be taking over the role of Miss Celie in the Broadway musical version of “The Color Purple.” So nice to see her continuing her Cable-Ace-Award-seeking acting career. Apparently, it was between her and the lady who played Pearl Shea on “227,” but when the producers found out that woman was dead, they went with Barrino, figuring she’d sell more tickets than a corpse. The jury is still out on that one. I pledge to you, dear readers, that if the show hasn’t been evicted by the time I’m in NYC for work this summer (Fantasia doesn’t take over until early April), then I will score some comps and sit through it again (I’m sure as hell not paying) and report back to you how Fantasia did. Ryan asks Q if Fantasia is up to the task, then cuts him off in the middle of his answer. Barrino sings a number from the show called “I’m Here.” She pronounces the word sister “shsishther,” which means she was hanging around Paul Kim in the green room too long. In fact, every ssss is pronounced shhhh. Fantasia is trying really hard not to bobo. I’m trying hard not to hit the fast forward button. Whoops, looks like we both lost the challenge.
Girl cut happening. Haley is safe (for tonight). Lakisha is safe. Gina is safe. Between Alaina and Nicole, Alaina is safe, so the bim vote won out. Nicole should have gotten one more week, if only to spare us another horrid Alaina performance, but I won’t miss her and Alaina’s time is coming very soon. Nicole is actually very classy in her loss. Lakisha tries to take the stage “in support” and she’s quickly shut down by the director. You had your moment, honey, let the loser sing her song badly by herself. Wow, Nicole is triply worse tonight than she was last night. I’m outta here til after the next break.
Tell the truth, does anyone really give a shit how The O.C. ends? Did anyone know it was even still on the air?
Last cut for the evening. Chris is safe, but he better keep his mouth shut next week. Phil is safe. Jared is safe, as is AJ. Apparently America likes their boys flaming, since Sanjaya was in the Top 4 boys. That means Rudy is going home. I predicted AJ, but no big loss. I hated Rudy. I hope Tom Lowe is watching and smiling. Sanjaya can barely make it to his seat before the waterworks begin. Ryan looks for some words of wisdom for Rudy from Simon, but may have wished he hadn’t asked after Simon basically tells Rudy to give up the ghost. Randy isn’t much more help, but Paula, denied some Rudy slamming in her boudoir, goes to bat for him. We’re left with a montage of the first four losers’ journeys, backed by a Daughtry track that, though middlingly average, is much more pleasing to listen to than that fucking Daniel Powter song.
That’s the haps for tonight. Join me next week when we’re mercifully spared with an hour less Idol than this week. 90 minute performance shows and an hour wrap-up. Take your vitamins, kids.
Seagulls out.
posted by kieran at 11:24 PM
2 Comments:
All American Idol winners at least have double platinum debut albums. So they are all multi-platinum winners, The actual sales for Fantasia and Ruben are more like 1.8 and 1.6 million respectivly, they are still considered multi-platinum artists.
Last time I checked, 2 million + was considered multi-platinum. Neither Ruben nor Fantasia has gone more than platinum. And when you consider both their albums shipped more than they sold, their actual sales figures are even lower. Thanks for playing.
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