Top 10: Birth Year Night

They actually were born yesterday

by Frank Pittarese

According to Seacrest, the countdown to the finale has begun. I don't know what calendar he's using, but I started counting down with the very first audition episode. This is American Idol. Do not insert into ear canal.

Tonight's episode is stinkier than a hobo's sneakers, so we're gonna breeze on through, but it should be noted that Paula is dressed in a shiny, tattered ball gown. I think her sleeves have been torn off. It looks like she just came from roleplaying The Poseidon Adventure in Joan Collins' basement.

The musical theme is "The Year the Contestants Were Born." The clip theme is "This One Time, I Was a Child." You know how people insist on showing you photos of their kids and you just don't care, but you smile and bear with it? That's this whole episode.

Ramiele Malubay was born in 1987. Until she was 3 years old, she bit other kids for no reason. Then she just hacked at them with a machete. It was quicker that way.

She sings Heart's "Alone," which is boring enough (I don't like Heart), but Ramiele just stands there, unmoving and blank. The song is bigger than even her big voice, and she wanders off key more than once. Also, somebody that short should not wear their pants that high.

Judges. Randy lets us know that Ramiele is sick, reminds us that Carly Smithson already sang this song, then tells Ramiele that she was pitchy. Understatement. Paula underscores the sickness, and says Ramiele is a very big talent. Simon is basically like, "You got through last week, sucking like you did, so you'll probably survive this week, sucking like this."

Jason Castro was born in 1987. When he was little, he and his brother got toy guitars, which they played with and stuff. Then Ramiele bit off Brother Castro's fingers, ruining his musical career forever.

He sings Sting's "Fragile." (Fra-gee-lay...must be Italian.) I'm unfamiliar with this one. Basically, after Dream of the Blue Turtles, Sting was dead to me. I mean, if I wanted to listen to Yanni, I'd buy a John Tesh album. Get me? So Jason is singing one of those songs, strumming his accoustic guitar. It's all very "happy hippie goes to Woodstock." Jason's gimmick is getting old.

Judges. Randy thought it "nice and pleasant." Paula loves Sting, but she's waiting for Jason to do something different. Simon says Jason was the equivalent of somebody singing outside a subway station. And even there, I've heard better.

Syesha Mercado was also born in 1987. As a child she was prone to tantrums and being annoying. She describes herself as having a mellow side and an adult side. Then she tells us she's goofy. She does that goddamn baby cry again. I can't even listen to this girl talk. Ugh.

On paper, Syesha is singing "If I Were Your Woman," by Gladys Knight, but this is actually the Alicia Keys version, "If I Was Your Woman." It's a bit of a cheat, but that's Syesha for you. Vocally, to be fair, she's great. But she's so full of shit, this girl, so theatrical and...forget her. You know what else is irritating? People who stand in the audience with their arms in the air, swaying back and forth like idiots. It's stupid, it's distracting, and they should be hosed down and thrashed about the head. Man...Syesha just fills me up with hate. Does that qualify as stage presence?

Judges. They all loved her. Whatever. She'll be here for weeks upon weeks. Syesha is worse than having mono.

Chikezie was born in 1985. He started singing when he was three. Or humming. Or something. His dad looks like Raj from What's Happening, and that's awesome.

He sings "If Only For One Night," by Luther Vandross, but also recorded by our very own Ruben Studdard. It's...well, it's very Luther, by way of Peabo Bryson. Smooth, slow, R&B-ish. Not my cup of tea, but it's nice to hear Chikezie sing something with a melody instead of going batshit crazy, the way he usually does. He puts his heart into this performance, but still: boring.

Judges. Randy compares Chikezie to Syesha, saying she made her song younger-feeling (by singing the dang Alicia Keys version, which nobody addressed). It was too old school for Randy, and he, too, found it boring. Paula liked the textures of Chikezie's vocals. Simon found it cheesy. He didn't like way Chikezie interacted with the audience by reaching out to the all-female, half-witted arm-wavers in the "mosh pit." Chickezie: "I'm singing for them." Simon: "You're singing for yourself." Me: "Next!"

Brooke White was born in 1983. She has siblings and remembers the day the family got their piano from some dead grandmother. She taught herself to play by ear. Don't her fingers work? Thanks, folks, I'll be here all week.

She sings "Every Breath You Take" by The Police. I liked this song as a boy, but I've since grown weary of it. It's the beginning of Sting starting to sell out, and it's probably the only Police song I wouldn't miss it if it went away forever. Anyway, Brooke on the piano. A false start. Singing again. Not terrible, but...meh. Couldn't she have sung "King of Pain" instead? The arm-swayers must be killed before they breed. The band kicks in, the tempo picks up. Vocally, this isn't Brooke's best. I smell Bottom Three.

Judges. Randy loved the false start. Really. And he liked the first half of the song, but would have liked the band to stay out of it. Don't do your jobs, stupid band! Paula says a lot of stuff that doesn't make any sense, but which I think amounts to: "You, Brooke White, are always Brooke White." Simon agrees with Randy about the band. There's a random shot of Top 24 Idoleer Amy Davis, and I seriously had to look up her name, then do a Google image search to make sure it was her. Out of sight, out of mind, peeps.

Michael Jones was born in 1978, making him an actual adult. He was a competitive child who made gooby faces at his sister. It looks like he owned a He-Man toy, as well. Dude really is old. He's actually pretty engaging in his clip segment. Hmm. What's that about?

What's this? Michael is doing a two-fer, performing Queen's "We Will Rock You" and "We Are the Champions." So we're allowing medleys now? What are the rules on this show, can someone tell me? Two songs. Bright rocker lights. Clapping audience. Typical stadium stuff. But seriously? It's good. I think this is the first time that Michael's affectations haven't overcome him. The song is more yelling than singing, but the singing parts are pretty cool. I hate that I enjoyed this.

Judges. Randy says it's Michael's best performance since he's been on this show. Paula calls it his shining moment. Simon says it's the first time Michael showed "star potential." I think Simon just enjoyed the rocker lights.

Carly Smithson was born in 1983. She's named after Carly Simon because that's who was playing as her mother was riding to the hospital to give birth. Well then, it's a good thing she didn't hear Kajagoogoo. As a child, Carly looked like Little Orphan Annie, which prepared her for her hard knocks life of getting record deals, losing them, having immigration problems, and getting critiqued by mean-spirited internet recappers.

She performs "Total Eclipse of the Heart," which I would have liked to have heard Amanda Overmyer perform (and probably wreck), but oh, well. Carly's vocal is good, but her performance is nearly a note-for-note, inflection-for-inflection copycat of the Bonnie Tyler original. I half expected Little David Archuleta to come on stage be all, "Turn around bright eyes," with the glowing pupils. The only new spin is that Carly oversings the final note, drawing it out into a semi-lengthy run. She does herself no favors.

Judges. Randy didn't love it. Didn't love the note at the end. Nope. He also didn't like the "whole rock thing," which makes me wonder what box Carly is supposed to be in. The Sara Bareilles box, maybe? But that's more Brooke's domain, isn't it? I dunno. Paula says Carly "makes her a believer" and she liked the run at the end. Randy and his opinions simply exasperate Paula. Simon spider-senses that Carly was tense and uptight.

David Archuleta was born in 1990. He has siblings. They were made to dance at an early age, in costume, by their mom. "Perform!" Papa Archuleta gotta eat, like Ramiele gotta bite.

He sings "You're the Voice" by John Farnham. Never heard it. I'm a little amazed that David has heard it, considering he was so hazy on the famously famous Beatles. Where'd he dig up this relic? Let me see... It looks like it was first recorded in 1985, so it isn't the Farnham version we're hearing, but the David Foster/Jeff Pescotto version. Whatever, it sounds like something from the cutting room floor of The Lion King. David sings well, and bounce-dances in an adorably dorky way. If I drove, I'd want David Archuleta to stand on my dashboard like a living Bobblehead.

Judges. Randy: "You can sing whatever...I don't know the song, but very nice." If Randy doesn't know the song, something is queer. Even more queer? Paula knows the song, and the composer, and that the composer is Australian. "You couldn't have picked an American composer?" she wisecracks. Michael Johns throws a jar of Vegemite at her from across the stage. Simon calls it a theme park performance. "I'd be amazed if you chose the song yourself," he says. And since no one from the show -- not the producers or the vocal coaches -- are allowed to affect song choice, I wonder if this isn't Simon's way of getting a little dig in at Papa Archuleta, because the "showbiz kid" quality of this song is exactly the kind of thing a "showbiz dad" would choose. But it's David. He's not going anywhere.

Kristy Lee Cook was born in 1984, when her dad looked really hot without a shirt. Today, even in a shirt, not so much. Time is a cruel bitch.

She sings "God Bless the U.S.A." Let me tell you, in terms of game play, Kristy could not have chosen a better song. Because no matter how bad this performance is (and it isn't, really), those Red State people are going to vote and vote and vote. To not vote would be un-American. In fact, if you don't vote, you're probably a terrorist. About the performance: it's adequate, but hollow. She doesn't bring any "oomph" to the song, and there are places in the song...obvious opportunities...where she can do so. But despite being a robot, Kristy will coast into the Final Five on this "merits" of this song alone.

Judges. Randy thought it was a very nice performance. Paula advises Kristy to watch the pitch problems, but she liked it. Simon calls it her best performance by a mile, then says, "That was the most clever song choice in years." No flipping lie.

David Cook was born in 1982. As an infant he had a huge head. He looks a little like one of those dudes from The Hills Have Eyes.

He sings "Billie Jean," but it's not the 1982 Michael Jackson version we're hearing -- it's the Chris Cornell version from 2007. Seacrest actually introduces it as Cornell's version, which I missed on the first pass. This isn't sitting well with me. What David's singing is slow and melodic, with gritty vocals...an emo dirge, really. And that's fine. But if he's just performing someone else's cover as they performed it (a fact which can be checked easily, thanks to iTunes samplers), should he get credit for being unique or inventive? I kinda think not. No, I really think not. That doesn't mean David didn't do well -- he did -- but it's still bending the rules.

Judges. Randy: "You're probably the most original, the most bold contestant we ever had...you might be the one to win the whole lot." See? But it wasn't original. He just aped what he heard elsewhere. I have a real problem with that. Paula can't sit down for some insane reason. She calls David brave and brilliant. Simon co-signs her "brave" then labels the performance "amazing."

And that's a wrap for this seriously dull, ill-conceived, Birth Year Night. Hopefully, next week's theme won't be "My Favorite Color."

Tomorrow, another Idol leaves us. My Bottom Three picks are Carly, for being uninspired, Brooke, for her lame song choice, and Ramiele, because enough already. Ramiele should be going home. She's due.

Singing "Last Train to Clarksville..."
-Frank