Did you notice how Ryan, the judges and the advertisements cut back on the "most talented top 24 ever" braggadocio after last week's disaster? If the men's performances are any indication, viewers should be able to sue for false advertising. Jason Yeager? Chikezie (no longer Ezie)? Luke Menard? Robbie Carrico? Were there really this many bad male singers in the competition last year? If so, I've managed to block it out. But I'm pretty sure there have never been so many bad haircuts in one season, and that's counting all of Sanjaya's from last season. So long, Garrett Haley, you'll haunt me in some nightmare years hence, but never shall we hear your insipid vocal delivery again.
Tuesday's show consisted of one great performance, a couple of decent turns and a whole lot of mediocrity. Dreadlocked Jason Castro proved an interesting contrast to the bombast of the average "Idol" contestant last week, but his sweet busker with a guitar schtick is proving to have a short shelf life (shock us next week with a Nine Inch Nails song or a crew cut). Michael Johns coasts on his charm and biceps, doing his vocal chords no favor with a subpar Fleetwood Mac cover.
The two who improved from last week were Danny Noriega and David Hernandez. Danny, as those who saw his diva neck-snapping take on "Jailhouse Rock" last week will remember, is gayer than a Saturday night at the baths. David H. is obviously not as fabulous, but his pre-song interview that revealed that he used to be a champion gymnast as a teen hinted at a Sunday morning at a truck stop glory hole. Personally, I'd rather see David H. do a floor routine (watch out for those sticky pools, dear), but his vocals were a'ight (in the eternal words of Randy Jackson) on "Papa Was a Rolling Stone."
Danny, meanwhile, atoned somewhat for the atrocities from last week by acknowledging his version of the Pressley classic was involuntary manslaughter, if not outright murder. His take on "Superstar," while sometimes shaky, was a big improvement — perhaps because it's easier to see him impersonating Karen Carpenter than Elvis Pressley. No word on if he also has an eating disorder, but if he comes dressed as the anorexic drummer during the Top 12, I'll call in and give the fag a vote.
The performance of the night again goes to our resident closet case. David Archuleta's take on the world's sweetest paean to atheism and socialism.
This is one of the rare moments when I agreed with all the judges' comments — though only with Paula's assertion of his performance being a moving one; unlike Paula, I don't wish to suffocate David, decapitate him and hang his body parts from my rearview mirror. Oh dear, I think that was Coca-Cola cup talking.
Simon told the other contestants they had reason to worry, and I could imagine them in their seats, hoping in vain that David A. (that's for adorable) would suffer a relapse of vocal paralysis or that Paula would somehow make good on her threats of dismemberment and vehicle accessorizing.
The most interesting judge comment — and this is a shocker, dawg! — came from Randy. He asked why David chose not to sing the song's first verse. He began with the third one — "Imagine no possessions" and not the traditional Lennon opener, "Imagine there's no Heaven — and I have to say it was a bit jarring to hear it start there. I wish they had given more time for his song and less to the others' nonsense, but Randy had a point about pointing out this change.
Of course, Randy asked his question from a traditionalist's standpoint of following the lyrics, but the selection of that verse, and the omission of the two others, is very telling. David said the third verse was his favorite and offered a great message. Would this be in opposition to the first verse, which posits a godless world ...
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
Can you imagine the controversy of a Mormon singing "Imagine there's no heaven"? Talk about losing the Wal-mart grandma vote. The song has such a pretty melody that God-fearing Americans overlook the fact that its lyrics are a veritable "Communist Manifesto." But the third verse about sharing and not letting people go hungry is certainly the most palatable of the buch. Of course, he has sung the full song before, but that was on some daytime talk show, not on the No. 1 show on television ...
Well, maybe I'm placing too much importance on the religious aspect of the lyric change; perhaps his Hollywood Week interpretation of Bryan Adams' "Heaven" had proven so successful he dare not envision a world where that song didn't exist.
It's also interesting that the judges are presenting David as a sort of inevitable choice this early in the season. It reminds me of the nascent stages of the Hillary Clinton campaign, when she was a dominating force and could do no wrong. The problem is that voters like their voices to matter — even if those voices matter for the worse — and so they may rebel when something is presented as the only route. I hope it doesn't go that way (will rocker nurse Amanda Overmeyer turn into his Obama?), but it does seem like David's team is running this like a campaign. The strategies are excellent, the jubilant stage chatter is on message, but somehow there's a bit of disingenuousness in his response to all this effusive praise. This kid has been performing for years; he can't be that shocked by a compliment (call it the Melinda Doolittle syndrome). He even seemed frightened for a moment when Ryan threatened to leave him on stage alone, but it was just coy, playful sexualized energy on Mr. Seacrest's part, as he quickly rushed back and found a way to put his hands on young David.
I guess I don't mind the campaign aspect of David's path toward victory; I guess you have to do what you have to do to win (I can't wait till this campaign goes dirty and he starts circulating pictures of Danny Noriega in drag; oops, I think Danny already did that). But how cool would it be for David to drop the tween/grandma-entreating façade for a moment, let his true self shine along with his talent and let America accept him for who he really is — a very good young gay singer?
Imagine there's no Midwest voters,
it isn't hard to do,
no one to call or text for you,
and no heterosexuals, too.
That's a brotherhood of men I could really get behind, if you know what I mean.
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