British Invasion Night (3/20)
Send in the Brits. Don't bother, they're here.
by Frank Pittarese"They have made it onto the big stage and into the finals. Can they make it into the Top Ten?" The Top Ten, you see, go on the live concert tour before sliding into blissful obscurity, so it's where they wanna be. "You're calling the shots." Blake, take off your clothes! "You are in control." Chris Richardson, make out with Blake! "This is American Idol. " Nothing happened. Ryan Seacrest is such a liar...
We're live. Hello to the contestants, who rush past my screen. Highlights: Haley, still alive, will sing first. There's Stephanie, who -- seriously -- I forgot about till just now. LaKisha got her hair done. Big cheers for Jordin. Equally big cheers for Sanjaya. Sanjaya? Final Two, people. Final freakin' two. Melinda brings up the rear, so she'll sing last in the pimp spot.
Howdy to the judges, who offer their opening insights. Randy says there's no excuse for forgetting the lyrics. Paula says the contestants should shake out their nerves and picture Simon undressed. Simon wants to know if that's what Paula thinks about. No, that's what Ryan thinks about. (Okay, that one was too easy.)
Like the headline says, it's British Invasion night, and our musical mentors are Peter Noone and Lulu. A quick recap of the British Invasion goes something like this: the Beatles arrived in America and everybody went batshit. Other bands and artists from the U.K. started getting play here in the States. The Rolling Stones. The Who. The Zombies. The Kinks. Shirley Bassey. Dusty Springfield. Herman's Hermits, with Peter Noone on lead vocals, had a bunch of hits, like I'm Henry the VIII, I Am. Lulu did pretty good for herself as well, with To Sir With Love and Shout (yeah, Shout, that obnoxious song they play at every wedding on the planet, except the gay ones, where it's always something by Celine). The two mentors reminisce about the '60s, and it amounts to, "Good times...yep...good times."
Peter, assisted by his giant face, worked with the Idol guys. Lulu, who looks fabulous -- like she collided with a young Olivia Newton-John and walked away with the good parts -- helped the girls. Peter is okay, but Lulu is great with her group, and the show would be foolish not to hire her as a full-time consultant. Or she can replace Paula when she bottoms out.
Haley Scarnato goes first. She's singing Billie Davis's Tell Him. Lulu says Haley should really give her delivery some punch by shortening her phrasing and looking into the camera. Lulu demonstrates and in three short seconds outshines everything Diana Ross did last week. Star quality, right there. Lulu very directly tells Haley that while there's been a lot of fuss made about contestants having big voices, "you've gotta know that you've got a place in this competition." In other words, don't let the show f**k with your head. Lulu interviews that Haley has her own sound. "She has to be proud of it. And strong. And grounded in who she really is." So a) Lulu did her homework by watching the show, b) she's supportive of Haley, and c) I'm going to marry her.
Haley "Pussycat Dolls" all over the stage in high heels and hot pants, her legs going from here to eternity. She's also wearing a top that, as best I can tell, is being held on by double-stick tape and hope. She's really working this number, sexing it up and dancing her way into the audience. The cast of Fox's Wedding Bells, seated in the front row, is treated to some in-your-face wiggle-and-jiggle. Haley's voice is shaky from all the movement, but it's really not bad, and she doesn't go to that Broadway place, as she once did. Randy and Paula dance in their chairs, as Simon gives Haley the hairy eyeball. I'm not sure if this routine was Lulu's advice or the fact that Haley is finally figuring this show out, but good for her!
Judges. Randy says it was the perfect song for her and this was her best performance. Paula liked the "flirtation side" and says Haley was adorable. Simon hides his erection and calls her a "naughty little thing," adding that her performance was fun and young, but shrieky in the middle. "I think people are going to be talking about a lot more than your singing tonight."
Post-commercials, we find Seacrest in the audience standing next to a pigtailed little girl who's crying her brains out. "Tears of joy, right? You're having fun?" She nods at Seacrest. Why is this important? You'll see.
Chris Richardson's goal is to finally nail a song. Why put yourself out, kid? Just nail Blake. He tells Peter Noone that he'll be singing Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying by Gerry and the Pacemakers. Chris R. wants us to know that he can do more than jump around -- that he can sing, too. Heh. That's amusing. Peter Noone is less than impressed with Chris R. "I didn't hear much of Chris's voice...there may be a lot more to it." He tells us that the song has a great melody but Chris never even showed it to him. Yipes! Not to knock Peter Noone, but he's not exactly one of the premier vocalists of the 20th century. I mean, his songs were cute and catchy, but they're just a cut above being novelty records. Still...yeah...the boy can't sing very well.
Chris R. is on stage with a guitarist at his side, both of them seated on stools, like big boys. His voice is better this week, mostly because he's not bopping around for this ballad, but I'm not knocked over. There's no strength to his vocals, and he constantly pulls out little tricks...a run here, a yodel-effect there...which only draw attention to Chris R.'s lack of skill. Without the dancing and the high energy, we're left with an engaging, attractive guy singing half-decently for a minute and a half. There's nothing audible to get excited about. But the hell with what I say, the audience loved it.
Judges. Randy says every note was in tune and it was beautiful. Paula says the whole thing was sexy and charming. And I'll give her that, because Chris is sexy and charming -- but look away from him and listen. Then you'll hear the truth. Simon says it was Chris's best performance so far.
Interview segment. Seacrest asks Stephanie what the hardest part is about getting ready each week. "The hardest part is picking the song," she says. It's the most important part, that's for sure. Also important? Keeping the viewers interested, which these segments do not.
Stephanie Edwards tells Lulu she'll sing Dusty Springfield's fantastic You Don't Have to Say You Love Me. Lulu says that Stephanie reminds her of Beyoncé, leaving Stephanie flabbergasted.
The song begins with dramatic fanfare from the orchestra, but Stephanie, while in good voice, never really delivers on its passion. She really soft sells it when she should be performing. Remember that time she fell to her knees? That's the sort of shit that needs to be happening here. Ultimately, it's passable, but dull.
Judges. Randy says it was pitchy and not Stephanie's best performance. Paula compliments her outfit, then advises her to go back to "having fun." Simon says Steph's losing her edge and the performance was nightclubby. "I think you're losing your soul." Somebody should have checked Diana Ross's purse before she left the building last week. She might have "borrowed" it.
Blake Lewis is beatboxing for Peter Noone, leading into Time of the Season by the Zombies. Peter likes that Blake is trying to modernizing the song, but does not dig the spitting involved in Blake's vocal turntablism. Peter's all, "Say it, don't spray it, guv'nor!" Peter doesn't want "the business getting in the way of the song."
So Blake frames the song with beatboxing. There's a taste of it in the beginning, a sprinkle at the bridge, then more at the end. He sings the rest of it straight. He dances. He poses. I really like Blake's sound. That Europop vibe is inescapable, but there's a smoothness to his voice that I find very appealing, especially in a season full of belters, shouters, and incompetent soft-boys. Blake also came prepared, with his identity sewn into his shirt collar. The show can't mold him into what they want or need -- he arrived with his own unique and marketable style. If he doesn't act the fool, and if Sanjaya's fans can back the hell off, Blake could make it to the end. A Blake/Melinda finale would kick ass.
Judges. Randy calls the song edgy and vibey, with a "massive yo factor." Paula felt like she was at a concert and that Blake could release that song right now. Her comments have nothing to do with the fact that the Idol site is pushing in-studio, full-length MP3s of these songs for a buck apiece. Can't you give us something for free, Fox? I've watched every episode of The Winner. Throw me a bone here. Simon says this was a million times better than last week, because Blake found a way to keep the melody intact while keeping it contemporary.
Seacrest comes out to give the numbers. For reasons unknown, he decides to dance like Blake, by which I mean dance like a crazy homeless person on the F-train. Awkward would be an understatement. Then, he beatboxes and sings. "What's your name/who's your daddy?" The answer is Simon, and please don't ever do that again, Ryan. There are laws against terrorism.
LaKisha Jones says she knows absolutely nothing about British music, but manages to narrow down her options to Cilla Black's You're My World and Shirley Bassey's Diamonds Are Forever. Lulu likes the former, saying it could be much more soulful for LaKisha, and even bolts from an interview to tell LaKisha so. But honestly? Anything that gives her personality would be a bonus. She could sing The Farmer in the Dell for all I care, as long as she shows some sign of life. They have an intense conversation on the other side of a glass door, and Lulu is like "Sing this song, you bloody cow, or I will slap the dumb right off you!" Okay, Lulu is much sweeter than that, and even she sings the song for LaKisha. Throughout all of this, LaKisha vacantly nods her head like, "Uh huh, and lunchtime is when...?" So what will LaKisha sing?
I guess Lulu didn't get her point across, because LaKisha has opted for Diamonds Are Forever. Her hair is all done up like Prince in Purple Rain, and while it's not perfect, it's a baby step toward the do-it-yourself hairdo she's sported in recent weeks. She's in a classy green dress and is wearing a bunch of loner diamonds, on account of the song. Performance-wise, it's what you'd expect. LaKisha sings the song well, but her lack of passion drags it down into a forgettable abyss. A funky 1970's wocka-wocka-wocka in the arrangement makes it interesting for a second, and she waves her arms around in what I suppose is an effort to give us something...some spark. But, eh. This was just okay. Melinda would have tore this song right in half.
Judges. Randy didn't feel enough LaKisha in the performance. The audience boos as he says it was just all right for him. Paula tells LaKisha she's smart because any time you sing about diamonds, you get to wear them. Really? Is getting free stuff that easy? I guess Chris Sligh sings about Twinkies and pie. When Paula asks about the dollar amount of the diamonds, LaKisha says she's wearing a million dollars worth, but I don't think she understood the question. Then Simon, to Paula, says she's not wearing that much. Who cares? Do you care? I don't care. Simon wraps it up by saying "this was LaKisha in fifty years time." I got 'boring' from that performance, but not 'old.' LaKisha tells Seacrest that if she sounds like that forty-five years from know, she thinks she'd look good. Was that snark? LaKisha, there's hope for you yet.
Phil Stacey will sing Tobacco Road by the Animals (I think), and demonstrates for the benefit of Peter Noone. I'm not enjoying Peter Noone tonight. He's as dull as Lulu is awesome, and I had higher expectations of him. Peter likes Phil's choice and says the audience will like Phil, but what else can he say? Phil's already taken Peter's family back to the distant galaxy of Glarthon-7.
Here's how the performance plays out. Phil runs over here and shouts. Phil runs over there and shouts. Phil stands in the middle and howls. Lights strobe all over the joint in an effort to convince us that we're actually seeing Chris Daughtry and not a life-like simulation of him. Phil sings louder, because according to the new math, louder equals gooder. Falsetto, howling, low-register thing, more shouting, then a merciful ending.
Judges. Randy thought it was pretty good, but pitchy in spots. Paula liked the emotions and "various ranges" of his voice. That's apt, if you view Phil's range as suck more to suck less. Simon thought it was "a third division bar band performance" because there's no grit in Phil's voice. He doesn't know what advice to give him. (Go home might suffice.) Phil says he had fun, then Guarini-style, asks the audience if they had fun. They applaud because they're on TV and somebody is asking them a question, validating their very existence. If Phil asked if they liked eating monkey ass, they'd react the same way.
Interview segment. Seacrest and Jordin are giggling like schoolgirls. He wants her to name a song that describes her best. She chooses I'm So Excited by the Pointer Sisters because "I'm so excited" has become her catchphrase. "Hurry it up," is mine.
Jordin Sparks tells Lulu she'll be singing I Who Have Nothing by Shirley Bassey or, if you'd rather, Tom Jones. Lulu says it's a big dramatic song, then helps Jordin work out the timing and rhythm of the piece. Lulu really knows her stuff. I haven't seen her give a bad piece of advice all night. She directs Jordin to really scream out the final note, then screams right along with Jordin when she does it. Giddiness abounds.
Jordin starts the song slowly and with great poise, then she builds and builds to a big finish. There's not a bad note in the performance, and she sings the song like she means it -- not like it's just a bunch of random words strung together. I think she could have pushed the final note a bit more, but that's a minor complaint. Good job!
Judges. Randy is impressed with Jordin, who's seventeen. He says it was a great, great performance. Paula says a good singer is a good singer, regardless of age. Unless you're Diana Ross. Simon says Jordin sang the song beautifully, but he feels like jumping off a bridge. Sorry she didn't sing the dance party remix, Cowell.
Oh, God, Sanjaya is next, and he's leaning into the camera with his tongue hanging out like a dog. But first, Seacrest says hi to Peter Noone, who's sitting one row ahead of the British judge from Grease: You're the One That I Want, who is, in turn, sitting next to Reno 911's Niecy Nash. Wow...they're one Pia Zadora shy of being the next cast of The Surreal Life.
Peter Noone risks imminent execution by saying that he told the guys this isn't a singing competition -- it's a voting competition. Then he says he's a "positive kinda chap" as most English people are, working in a jab at Simon when he adds that those who aren't positive move to the States. Simon, already pissy over the competition crack, looks ready to take his toys and go home. Meanwhile, Fox security escorts Noone from the building.
Sanjaya Malakar, upon hearing it was British Invasion week, had no idea what he was going to sing. Does he have any idea? Really? He's on the fence about two songs: You Really Got Me by the Kinks, and I'm Into Something Good by Herman's Hermits. Sanjaya tries both, admitting he's not the best singer in the competition. News! Peter Noone advises that if Sanjaya wants to win, he should go with the Kinks. Peter also worries that he may have confused Sanjaya, unaware that confused is the boy's natural state.
Sanjaya took the advice, and as he sings You Really Got Me, reality turns inside out. He -- what is he wearing? The kid has pulled the arms of his sweater down over his hands, and then cut holes in it so his thumbs can stick out. I don't even have words. Anyway, he's singing the song in his speaking voice, so no actual singing is happening. He's also trying to sound tough, which is about effective as Michael Jackson playing a hood in the Bad video. To be precise: it's ineffective.
Remember that pigtailed little girl in the audience? Well, she's still having fun, and expressing her joy with a river of tears. It's scary, people. Somebody needs to give her a shot of something. She sobs as Sanjaya growls the same the same four lines of the song over and over and over and over and over, getting louder ever time. He sashays out into the audience, because that's whatcha do at this stage, for the getting of votes. Up onto the mini-stage. More shouts and growls. Squatting in front of Paula! Jumping up and down. More tears from the girl, who is beside herself. This goes on until sometime Friday morning.
Judges. Randy is shocked because Sanjaya came out of his shell. Paula says it was a lot of fun. Simon: "I think the little girl's face says it all." That's a good way to knock Sanjaya without saying anything out loud, but he's about to generate so much good will that any comment, good or bad, will be rendered null and void. Seacrest sends Sanjaya into the audience to hug the kid. It's like a modern day Bye, Bye Birdie. By hugging her, Sanjaya is hugging every pigtailed girl across America (as well as most members of NAMBLA). Get used to the sight and sound of him, people, he's going viral.
Interview segment. Gina is dressed all in black because she's hardcore. Seacrests asks if being on American Idol has made her stronger. It's made me stronger, having to listen to this crap. Gina says it has. There's a lot of pressure...rehearsals, critiques that they read on line (shout out to me!)...but she just tries to forge ahead.
Gina Glocksen tells Lulu she'll sing Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones. She tests it out and Lulu questions the key Gina's using, advising her to take it up a half-step. Lulu just wants her to make the most of the song's drama, which is fine advice, except everything that goes into Gina's song blender comes out in a puree of loud.
That's exactly what happens, except for "softer" parts of the song ("I see a red door and I want to paint it black"). Those just sound awful and pitchy. The rest is the usual yelling. Gina...she's trying really hard to perpetuate this rocker image, half of which is her own design and half of which is what the show has foisted upon her, but it's just so insincere. I'm not even sure she's aware of it. Maybe she does see herself as a musical badass, but I don't buy it. I think she'd have been better off going in a Chrissie Hynde or Debbie Harry direction: tough, but cool and accessible. What we're getting, though, is a kid pretending to be an angry rock star, at least when she performs.
Judges. Randy loves her "edge vibe," but feels the vocal was just all right. Paula says this was miles better than last week. I don't even remember last week. Oh, right. Love Child. I'd put 'em about even. Simon says there were moments of complete torture in Gina's vocal, and it was, for him, "style over content." Yes. And the style is all rocker affectation. If Gina doesn't move quickly to recalibrate this persona she's created, she's out within a month.
Chris Sligh kisses Peter Noone's ass, left side, right side, crack side, hole. First he tells him his dad used to sing Henry VIII to him as a child, then he brings up the fact that in 2001, Peter won "Sexiest Artist Alive." If I wasn't already over this crapjacker, I'd be done with him now. Ugh. Anyway, Chris has chosen to sing the Zombies' She's Not There. "What's it about?" Peter asks Chris, explaining that if he can figure it out and make the song his own, the audience will buy it. This audience would buy poison if this show told them to. Also, what is this song is about?
It doesn't matter. Chris is playing the game. He begins the song from the aisles, amidst the audience. He's so busy trying to squeeze his girth past the masses and shaking hands that he gets the lyrics wrong. He looks into the camera the entire time, as it tracks him to the mini-stage, where he dances a jig. If Taylor Hicks was reborn into the body of a fat Richard Simmons, you'd get Chris Sligh. Eventually, he reaches the main stage, out of breath from the activity. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the vocals. They're okay. I just don't enjoy this guy in any regard.
Judges. Randy was impressed by the "coming out of the crowd" business, and though it started rough, it ended well. Paula says Chris's vocals were really good, and she liked the way he worked the audience, but he should be more free with them. Simon wants to know specifically what more Chris could have done? He's asking Paula, but Chris bursts in with more asskissery about how he knows what Simon is saying. Shut up, already. Simon thought it was fun and showed personality.
As Seacrest gives out the numbers, Chris starts yelling "Fro patro!" This is the spinoff of Taylor's "Soul patrol!" catchphrase from last year, and you know how much I loved hearing that every week. I'll vote for Sanjaya a thousand times before dialing a single digit for this cretin.
Melinda Doolittle, at last, meets Lulu. She'll be singing As Long As He Needs Me from the musical Oliver, which she says is a bit out of her comfort zone. Lulu says Melinda lost herself in the song during rehearsal, and says that she's shining.
This is an on-the-floor torch song, and Melinda sounds great, as usual. Her new haircut totally draws attention to the fact that she doesn't have a neck, but there are worse offenses -- like the saggy-baggy top she's wearing. Melinda stands for the big finish. Weepy Girl weeps some more weepage. Another fine performance, although not Melinda's best. I blame the song, which is hopelessly boring.
Judges. Randy says they saved the best vocal for last and it was a stunning performance. She has great relative pitch. Paula says Melinda tells a story with song and it's just beautiful. Simon says it was a boring song but she made it sensational with an impeccable vocal. He also wants to know if she's as nice as she seems. "Back off, honky!" says Melinda. Except no. She's really as sweet as sugar.
Tomorrow, Peter Noone and Lulu perform, and another sucker goes home. I already know the result, but I'll tell you now, I'm not at all surprised.
As the credits roll, Seacrest calls Weepy Girl up to the stage, where, surprisingly, she cries some more. Blake kicks her and says "I'll give you something to cry about!" Gina pulls her pigtails while Stephanie calls her ugly. Then Phil puts out a cigarette on her forehead. Of course, I'm lying, but even this child, as it turns out, is a manipulation of the show. More on that tomorrow, too.
Sniff...
--Frank
