American Idol: Top 10 Girls

Quickie recap, because, unfortunately, life beckons.

Simon warns the contestanst against “not giving themselves an identity” — i.e., not pigeonholing themselves into some preconceived stereotype. Heh. Heh heh.

Gina Glocksen’s song is dedicated to her boyfriend, who encouraged her to try out for Idol again. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her, blah blah blah. She sings “Alone” by Heart in a very cool red dress. She’s got major pitch problems, and…whoa…talk about karaoke. Talk about drunk karaoke. Not sayin’ that Gina’s drunk, but instead sayin’ that this is the type of performance you usually get when a gal gets drunk at karaoke night. She barely hits the major note at the end. Randy likes it, Paula calls it excellent (? I don’t think she hit like half the notes), Simon says that the vocals felt forced at the end and that he’s a little confused as to “who Gina is.” Sigh. Seacrest uncomfortably implores Gina’s boyfriend to propose to her.

Lakisha Jones tells Seacrest that she’s pretty unaware of all the media buzz surrounding her performance. Alaina Alexander, looking very pretty in her curly hair and slate-blue dress, dedcates her performance to her mom, who worked four jobs (well, “like four jobs”) to support her children. That’s great. She sings The Dixie Chicks’ “I’m Not Ready to Make Nice” and as much as Alaina’s mother is really sweet, Alaina is just not a good singer. She’s still fish-out-of-water gaspy, she’s very shouty, and I don’t think she’s hitting a single freakin’ note. It’s just bad all around. At the end, she has this really sad, pissed-off look on her face. Why? I dunno. Randy says she lost the tuning and the pitch at the chorus, and calls the song “a mess.” Alaina makes Katharine-McPhee-like “bitch, whatchoo talkin’ bout?” faces, clearly buying into the delusion of her own greatness, and firmly cementing my hatred for her. She even throws in an “I had a little trouble hearing” excuse toward the end of Paula’s critique. Gah! Simon says she ran out of steam three-quarters of the way. The “she looks amazing” criticisms dribble out of Paula’s mouth as Alaina makes more nose-wrinkling “how dare you critize moi” faces. Ugh. Get off my TV.

Lakisha Jones dedicates her performance to her grandmother, who doesn’t let her walker slow her down. Awesome. Lakisha looks killer, as her short skirt and shapely-but-not-clingy top accentuate her full figure in a surprisingly pleasing way. Her “Midnight Train to Georgia” sounds effortless in the beginning, but is — as I feared — kind of one-note throughout. Randy loves it, Paula loves it, Simon calls her a “phenomenally good singer” but doesn’t think had the “I’m in it to win it” attitude she had last week. He implores her to “act like a star” and tells her that he didn’t like her outfit, calling it “too colorful.” In the words of Dr. Evil, “rrrrriiiiggghhhttt.” Seacrest and Ryan continue their “we are totally heterosexual” banter by debating whether Lakisha’s sweater is orange or salmon.

Melinda Doolittle dedicates the song to her two best friends, a vocal coach and a stylist. I wish MY two best friends were a vocal coach and a stylist. She’s dressed in a fantastic shiny denim suit that I covet, but would never wear on American Idol. She sings “My Funny Valentine,” all classic-soul style, and while she’s still having perma-smile issues, her voice is nearly flawless. It does amazing dips and peaks and valleys, and I think she’s one of the few belters I’d actually listen to recreationally. Randy loves it, Paula is amazed by her unique phrasing, Simon calls it “incredible” and the best vocal in the competition so far. Aww.

Alaina Alexander Antonella Barba (well, aren’t they practically just the same person anyway?) says she’s picked a better song this week. She dedicates the song to her brother, a musician. “Because You Loved Me” is her choice tonight, and it’s not really much better than last week. She’s really just not that great of a singer. And her dress looks like something I bought at Wet Seal ten years ago. However, when she hits the high note, she sounds really wonderful. So maybe the solution here is to get her singing in her higher soprano range. But I don’t think the note was enough to save the song. Randy says the song is too big for her, and Alaina makes this face like “eh, maybe so, Jackson, but I’ve firmly secured the Horny Males of America vote, muahahaha!” Simon says Antonella was worse than last week. Antonella says that she’ll listen to the judges, but that “Simon was wrong about Jennifer Hudson, so…” Jeebus, what is it with these obnoxious chicks and their entitlement? Why are Antonella and Alaina so convinced of their own greatness when, in fact, they are middling talents at best?

Jordin Sparks dedicates her song to her brother. She’s singing “Reflection,” which I will forever associate with Ayla Brown and Teenage Botness, but Jordin does a serviceable job, and tears up at the end. Randy really likes it, Paula calls her “infectious” and a “good human being,” and Simon says it wasn’t her best, but it was excellent compared to a lot of other people.

Up next is Stephanie Edwards, singing the first song of the evening I don’t recognize, “Dangerously in Love,” I’m going to take a wild stab and say it’s something by Mary J. Blige, though. It sounds Mary J.-ish. (ETA: Oh, Beyonce.) Anyway, I don’t think Stephanie is that great on it, unfortunately. She’s got a lovely voice, but I don’t think she can quite keep up with the stattaco pacing of the verses. Ah well. Randy calls it “Beyonce light,” Paula says it was fantastic, brilliant, bla blah blah, Simon really liked it.

Adorable Leslie Hunt recognizes that her “flapping” works for gigs, but maybe not for the Idol stage. She dedicates her song to her grandfather, calling him “the definition of unconditional love.” She sings Nina Simon’s “Feeling Good” (yes, the same song AJ drag-queen-revued last night). Her miniskirt-and-leggings combination is a little trend overload for my tastes. I love her voice, and I think she sounds fantastic, even if her Nina-esque scatting kind of tends to lose it towards the end. Randy says it’s good to see Leslie return to her jazzy roots, but that the song was pitchy, which I disagree with. Paula loved it. Simon compares Leslie’s scatting to Paula’s talking, and says that Leslie’s getting a little bit lost in the competition because of all the belters. Which maybe is true, but doesn’t make her any less talented, and besides, some people don’t friggin’ like to be yelled at every week. Seacrest cutely reads the scat lyrics as prose. Sometimes Seacrest is awesome. I hope Leslie sticks around, although I have a feeling that should she go far in this competition, she could be as polarizing as Taylor Hicks was last year. At this point in time I hope that photos of Leslie rubbing her naughty bits against a revered memorial surface, if that’s what it takes to keep her in the competition.

Haley Scarnato dedicates the song to her fiance, then launches into “Queen of the Night.” She’s better than Alaina and Antonella, to be sure, but I don’t think that’s saying a whole lot. This is a singer who gets lost in the mix, to me. At least Leslie has something to make her stand out. This is just blah to me, and kind of like she’s channelling Nicole Tranquillo from last night. Randy doesn’t think it was great, and Simon says she’s vulnerable tonight. Haley is crying, which is sad, because she seems like a sweet girl, but she’s still just meh.

Sabrina Sloan is another one whose personality rubs me the wrong way. (Yeah, remember when I wrote last night that Chris Richardson was the only one so far who actively annoyed me? He’s gaining some competition.) She seems entitled to me, and she has this very forced coy/sexy vibe about her. Anyway, this is another song devoted to dear grams. She sings something, I don’t know what. As far as the belters go, I think she’s outclassed by Stephanie, Lakisha, and Melinda. Also, when she hits the modulation, she starts getting very, very strident. Definitely not as good as last week. Randy calls it “very nice overall” with somem pitch problems here and there, Paula loves it (what doesn’t Paula love?), Simon says she was right on the limit of confusing power with shouting, but that she’ll be back next week.

Vote Leslie, kids. Let’s round out this competition with a little something interesting. Or, if you must choose a belter, go with Melinda, whose my pick to win it all, and who will get all my (dispassionate and uninvested) support should Leslie get the boot.

Mobile lurves Taylor (well, obviously).

The Press-Register reviews Taylors Hicks’ Mobile concert:

By any measure, the enthusiasm was off the charts. Many an artist with more critical acclaim struggles to generate as much fervor in an audience. Hicks has drawn his share of criticism since Fox’s “American Idol” launched him to national stardom, in particular for his herky-jerky dancing and for a soul-music affinity that strikes some as derivative. Still, millions voted for him in the televised talent program. And as he performed Tuesday, it was easy to see why: The man seems to have found a way to bottle exuberance…But in the music, he let himself go. The staging was minimal and the sound quality was no better than average, but on sheer personal energy Hicks kept many of his 1,900-plus listeners on their feet throughout…More to the point, perhaps, was the way Hicks delivered “Just to Feel That Way”: face anguished, body straining, at times standing on tiptoes on the edge of the stage. For an audience of avid fans who indeed just wanted to feel that way, Hicks was just the man to take them there.

American Idol: Top 10 Boys

Roll tape! Kelly, Ruben, Fantasia, Carrie, and Taylor (soon to be replaced by Chris, no doubt). Ryan begins by congratulating Jennifer Hudson on her Oscar. Jeff Foxworthy (!)…(?) claps in the audience.

Conga line of men. Sanjaya and Blake are wearing stupid hats, Sligh does a fey little skip, and Chris Richardson still pisses me off for no reason.

Phil Stacey is dedicating his song to the Navy band back home. Aww. He sings “I Ain’t Missin’ You” and I think he sounds pretty good. I’ve really come around to liking his voice, although I don’t think I’d ever buy an album of his or anything. Randy and Paula love it, but Simon says he’s not jumping out of his chair. Likes him as a person, but not sold on the originality of the voice, he says. Phil smiles. He looks so nice when he smiles. He’s got kind of an odd look to him — he can go from quite strikingly handsome to vampirish with the flick of a camera angle. Kind of like one of Jerry’s girlfriends in an old Seinfeld episode.

Ryan would like to know what people were saying after last week’s performances. Sundance told him that the advice he received was “stop being so crappy.” Awww…poor Sundance.

Jared Cotter dedicates his performance to his mom and his dad. His mom apparently woke him out of bed and forced him to audition. Hey, Jared is McPhee Redux! I never saw that one coming. He sings “Let’s Get it On,” but he’s not as hot as Jenry Bejarano. Technically, this is a good performance, but it’s just a little bit too showboaty (and, frankly, not sexy enough) for a sensual song like this. He starts bringing it home a little bit towards the end, but it’s still waaaay too hammy for my tastes. Up in the rafters, Sundance is enjoying this just a little bit too much. Randy, predictably, loves the hamminess. Paula begins to (brace yourself) make a whole lot of sense by telling Jared that this isn’t the type of song you need to push, but she loses herself giggling at her inadvertent double entendre, because she is twelve, and also drunk. Simon agrees with me, in that he’s glad Jared made the effort, but thought it was more appropriate for the Love Boat than for Idol. Seacrest makes a comment about “Wow…the things we’ve all done to that song. Memories.” Ryan, I just don’t wanna know.

Dedicating this song to…his parents…is AJ Tabaldo. He sings “Feelin’ Good,” which nobody sings like Nina Simone, and while he’s not technically terrible vocally, I’m getting…well, let me put it this way: I have no idea which way AJ swings, and I frankly don’t care, but I’m just getting a complete drag queen revue from this performance. The sashaying, the hip-twirling, the finger-snapping…this is not to say it’s a bad performance, but it was just odd. The judges all really like it, though, even though Simon manages to subtly work in the fact that he’s getting that vibe from AJ. Oh well. Happiness all around, and I enjoyed AJ tonight, and I hope he sticks around.

We cut to Sanjaya Malakar, who I swear to God is the product of a genetic experiment that involved splicing the DNA of Donny Osmond, Leif Garrett, and Sendhil Ramamurthy (because yeah, the kid could be Sendhil-hot when he grows up). Sanjaya dedicates his song to his grandfather, which is a nice change of pace, and the baby-photo montage reveals that Sanjaya has always had beautiful flowing locks. He sings “Steppin’ Out,” his hat cocked at an oh-so-Mario Vazquez angle. Yawn. I’m sorry. This child is previous, and I really, really want to like him and see him as more than an adorable puppy, but this is just terribly boring. I think it’s a lazy performance, as if Sanjaya thinks that the crooner-type intonations don’t actually require him to hit the notes. Randy kind of sums up my thoughts exactly. “Bad high school talent show,” he calls it. Sanjaya smiles in a transparent attempt to not cry, which is terribly heartbreaking. Simon agrees with Randy, calling it a “ghastly lunch” where the parents ask the children to dress up and sing. Where does he get these metaphors? Is there a manual? Can he publish a book? I’d buy it. Sanjaya says he picked the song to celebrate the great classics of music and dedicate it to his grandfather. Simon looks completely dumbfounded by that. He also says that he knows he needs to step it up, though his voice is really, really gulpy at this point.

Chris Sligh has made the inexplicable decision to sing Ray LaMontagne’s “Trouble,” which Taylor Hicks popularized — and killed on — last year. This is gonna be interesting, to say the least. Sligh says that he loves his song pick and hopes America will love it too. He dedicates it to his wife Sarah, who is…wow, really hot. Go ‘head, Sligh! And he does “Trouble.” It’s closer to Ray’s original version than Taylor’s was, to the point where Chris is actually trying to imitate Ray’s unique tone. Anyway, he really doesn’t do much with the song, except tack a completely inappropriate glory note on the end that totally destroys the raw emotional impact of the song. Boo! Randy says he liked it, as did Paula, but she tells him to watch pitchiness and getting ahead of the music. Simon says the song proved that Sligh was a “very good singer.” Seacrest mentions that Taylor did it last year, and Sligh, ever the deft politician, calls his version “different,” which it was. And truth be told, it was a superior arrangement. But I still give Taylor the upper hand here for sheer rawness and emotion. Sligh is just a dude who sings to me right now, although thus far he’s definitely the best of the night.

Nick Pedro dedicates his song choice to his adorable girlfriend Caitlin. Awww. He’s gonna sing “Fever,” as done last year by Paris Bennett. Hmm. He’s got some wonky facial expressions going on, and I think this song is revealing just how weak Nick’s voice is. Either that or he’s deliberately trying to sound hoarse for effect. Simon is snapping along to it, though, which is kind of cute. He brings it home in the end, though, with a little raspiness, and it’s at that point that I figure out who he reminds me of vocally: Vic Fontaine. Sci fi geeks unite! Randy and Paula approve. Simon thought it was good, but that it was a bit lacking in the charisma (and wardrobe) department. Simon gives props to the drummer, though. Oh, looks like he’s running with “Vote For Pedro.” Shocker.

Bringing us some “Virtual Insanity” is Blake Lewis. The song is dedicated to his parents. Hey, there’s Blake with his hair flattened down, and totally not as cute. But I’m really beginning to warm up to him, so it’s all good. Personality-wise, anyway. I think the song’s a bit too high for him, and he’s speak-singing, which is my personal annoyance. He scats and beatboxes, and it’s excellent, as it always is, but again, I’d put him in the class of good-but-not-great vocalists. Aside from the beatboxing, he just sounds like…a guy singing. Randy and Paula love it (do they dislike anything?); Simon thinks that the first part of the song was pure imitation, the second was great, and the third part was a freefall of pitch problems. It’s always nice to be backed up by Simon. I disagreed with him a lot last season, particularly when it came to Taylor, but I think he’s pretty well spot-on this season. Cut back to Blake, doing an Ashlee-Simspon-style hoedown, calling his singing style a “vocal entendre,” and cutely beatboxing with Seacrest. Aww. I really do like the guy more and more each week, even if I’m not 100% sold on the singing.

Brandon Rogers’ song is dedicated to his grandmother. He turns in a ballady version of “Time After Time,” and…okay, I just love Brandon’s voice, but he always sounds like he’s blending in. I guess it’s just the background singer in him, or it could be the pleasant softness of his vocals. Randy doesn’t think the song did enough to show what Brandon has. Brandon responds that he was trying to put his heart into the song, and that he didn’t think it needed a whole lot of “extra.” And you know? I totally agree with that sentiment, but I think he might have gone a little too deep into the emotion. Simon calls Brandon’s emotive plea “rubbish,” and Paula vehemently disagrees. Hmm. Interesting little debate here. On the one hand, being a Taylor fan, I’m totally all for emotion and nuance trumping glory notes. On the other hand, you can bring emotion and nuance and all that jazz and still sound fantastic vocally. It’s not a zero-sum game between “emotion” and “glory noting.” There is a happy medium. Brandon calls out his father’s birthday; Simon announces that he likes puppies. Adorable.

Chris Richardson has also dedicated a song to his grandmother, who is apparently a sparkplug who “lives like she’s 20.” Does she work at Hooters? Sorry, I can’t resist. It’s so easy. And so disgusting. Richardson is singing “Geek in the Pink” by Jason Mraz, doing his stupid little dance that’s like a combination of Fantasia’s Bobo, Elliott’s Hobbit Hop (which Elliott sloughed off mid-season), and delirium tremens. He’s such a boy band reject and I just don’t get his appeal at all, and I don’t think he’s a particularly good singer, particularly because he sounds less like he’s singing and more like he’s blowing his nose. Inexplicably, Randy says it was hotter than the original. Ugh. Figures. He’s the only one in the competition I don’t like, which naturally, because karma has afforded me one victory, means that he’ll win. Well, good for Idol for shamelessly cashing in on the fame of existing artists and producing rote copycats, I guess. First Daughtry, who is more Nickelback than Nickelback is these days, now Chris Richardson, the incarnate Second Coming of Justin Timberlake. Yawn.

Wrapping up the episode in the pimp spot is Sundance Head. He dedicates the song to his son Levi. Pictures of Sundance, his baby, and his wife, who is also really adorable. Sundance gets all teary thinking about how he’s missing his child’s first smile. And he brings a little “Mustang Sally.” It starts off meh, but he hits some nice raw notes in there. Too bad the song’s so one-note, though. I do love when Sundance gets a little gruff, though. That’s where his voice needs to be. He pulls off a great scream, no doubt in tribute to his dad’s “Treat Her Right” wail, and all in all, I think the song really showed off Sundance’s talent, if it wasn’t a bit gimmicky. Simon says it was really good, which it was, but that he also thinks Sundance can do better, which he can. Sundance, whose hair looks a lot better tonight, talks about his son some more, and Seacrest directs him to the viewscreen, where a large picture of Levi — with a painted-on goatee — is being flashed. Hee.

Best of the night: Either Phil or Sundance.
Best performance of the night: Blake Lewis. Not sold on the vocals, but love the style.
Worst of the night: …sorry, Sanjaya. You’re a cute kid and all, but your time is up.
Weirdest of the night: AJ Tablado. A good performance, to be sure, but just so strange!

On the horizon.

Not too many spoilers floating around out there, and much of what I’ve found is just speculation and conjecture at this point, so I wouldn’t exactly attach a lot of reliablity to them. But here’s what I’ve got so far:

Sundance Head: May be singing “Mustang Sally.” Eep. In my opinion, this is waaaay too gimmicky of a song for him, and he needs to return to the type of languid, bluesy songs that he navigated so well during his audition. On the other hand, you know VFTW is loving this.

Chris Sligh: “Trouble” by Ray LaMontagne. Heh. I still haven’t warmed up to Sligh and his strategery, but if this is true, then in the chess game that is American Idol, this is one baaad move. Taylor Hicks kicked ass on this song last year — even Simon Cowell called it an “excellent vocal” (before, of course, proceeding to dis Taylor’s strange leather jacket. I, personally, found the leather jacket strangely hot, if perhaps a size too small…). Even attempting to do this song is going to cause rumblings among Taylor’s fanbase, which I kind of thought Sligh was trying to court, what with his anti-Idol image and all. If he falls short of Taylor’s excellent version, he falls short. Or, God forbid, he’s better than Taylor, or different enough to render any comparisons moot, or the judges don’t care and just decide to use this as an excuse to rag on Taylor some more, he runs the risk of really alienating Taylor’s fans, which could spell trouble for him. After all, he didn’t do so hot on DialIdol last week.

G’mornin.

Recaps may be a bit slow this week…it’s paper-writing season, so unfortunately, form and style must take precedence over American Idol.

For now, check out this interview USA Today snagged with Roy Head. Apparently, Sundance isn’t the younger Head’s birthname after all; it’s a nickname that Daddy Roy gave him at birth, but legally, the kid’s name is Jason. A shame, really.

Tampa loves Taylor.

From Tampa Bay Online:

Watching Taylor Hicks strut, hunch, wiggle and shake his booty is so much more fun than listening to his “Taylor Hicks” CD which is a rather bland mix of blues and pop…The [Soul] Patrol was out in full force at the Tampa Theatre Thursday night. The place was sold out and Hicks brought them to their feet often. The audience looked considerably older than the fans of previous “American Idol” winners. You wonder how Hicks won the season five “Idol” competition when his audience of more than 1,400 was much more senior and smaller than the 18,000 who watched Justin Timberlake Thursday night just down the street…(Ed. note — de facto winner DAUGHTRY! is playing even smaller venues.)

Yeah, it’s amazing, isn’t it? I still can’t wrap my mind around how all those arthritic geezers managed to pick up a phone and punch in a number without having to take a handful of medication, or even a nap in between.

Don’t get me wrong. I like Taylor Hicks, especially when he cuts loose and covers Ray Charles or does the Doobie Brothers’ “Takin’ It to the Streets.” He also threw in a little “Tupelo Honey” and “Brown-eyed Handsome Man” Thursday night…It’s great that Hicks won “Idol” because he is such an anti-Idol type. This 29-year-old good ol’ Alabama boy has a decent voice and his musical heart is in the right place. That post “Idol” album was probably more reflective of what Hicks’ music producer Clive Davis felt was commercial. Hicks told the crowd that his new single off the album, “Just to Feel That Way,” almost didn’t make the cut. He said he wasn’t sold on it but “Clive called and said “You need to do this’ and I said ‘Yes, Boss’.” (emphasis added)

And yet, he managed to save that song. I’d totally hate it if it weren’t for the life and feeling Taylor manages to inject into it.

As for the rest of the review…I don’t think it’s really up for debate anymore that people much prefer seeing Taylor live to listening to him on a CD. I like them both equally, but I realize that I’m in the minority, and that’s fine. Taylor will do okay, even if he doesn’t manage to outsell High School Musical.

Shoes and ships and sealing wax.

I didn’t want to address this, but looking at my blog stats, I feel like I have to. Unless American Idol takes some sort of official action, I won’t be addressing the Antonella Barba scandal. You won’t find pictures (or links to the pictures) of her here, nor will you find long, drawn-out analyses of her behavior. If you want that, go to TWoP.

Check out the Taylor Hicks with SouthFlorida.com. Taylor comments on the ongoing “who’s the real Idol” debate:

In an interview, Hicks said that to measure him against, say, Daughtry or Underwood is a case of apples and oranges. “You know, it’s funny: People want to try and compare us, and that’s hard to do because I’m not singing rock and I’m not singing country,” he said. “So to compare us — I find that interesting because we’re in different genres.” Hicks said “interesting” with a droll air that suggested what he meant was “inappropriate” or “misinformed.” “If I was a rocker, I could see that [comparison],” he said. “But I’m a blue-eyed soul performer.”

Hee. This was also an interesting tidbit:

Whatever the size of the audience for his brand of contemporary blue-eyed soul, Hicks called the album “definitely a step in the right direction,” adding, “I worked very closely with that producer to capture who I am as an artist and who I was as an American Idol.”

A “step in the right direction,” not, note, “the embodiment of who I am musically and professionally.”

Entertainment Weekly continues it’s tradition of scoring the first round of Idol post-bootee interviews. This week, Shirley Halperin spoke to Paul Kim, Rudy Cardenas, Amy Krebs and Nicole Tranquillo about their short runs on the show. Paul Kim insists that he’s been singing barefooted for five years and that it wasn’t a “gimmick,” just him being him. (Note to Paul — longevity does not a personality trait make; a gimmick’s a gimmick). Kim also reveals that “Careless Whisper” was only his sixth song choice, the first being a Donny Hathawy number (the first five wouldn’t clear), and that he was sick with bronchitis before the performance. Despite his illness, Kim says that at the end of the day, he just didn’t sing as well as he needed to, and that’s why he got booted off. (Hee. Refreshing to see an Idol take personal responsibility for a sucky performance, isn’t it?) Rudy Cardenas is keeping his chin up — he says his performance was “a little much,” but at the same time, he completely embraces the cheesiness that is American Idol. Aww. I kind of like him now.

Amy Krebs wishes Paula had stuck up for her a little bit more (um… you weren’t entitled to it, sweetie), but seems to have taken the judges’ criticisms to heart, noting that she’s always struggled with feeling comfortable in her own skin. Oh, and if she were a scented candle, she’d be cinnamon. And Nicole Tranquillo stands by her song choice, regardless of Randy’s “too urban” criticism. I kind of like that attitude — upon replay, her performance wasn’t that bad, certainly no worse than certain people who should have gone home in her place, and it’s just too damn bad that she didn’t fit into the little pre-packaged box the judges had already picked out for her.

Please to enjoy Katharine McPhee’s new video for “Over It.” I guess the plot revolves around her filming a little video (video within a video — how very meta!) about how — you guessed it — “over it” she is, and then giving it to some guy who dissed her. The video in and of itself is done fairly well, although the plot is asinine, as any woman worth her salt knows that giving a dude a DVD of you moping around on a couch over him is just going to make him all the more glad that he got the hell away from you as quickly as he did. But whatever, it’s TRL. Anyway, the weird thing about this video is that Katharine’s face is kind of blank throughout. She does okay as an actress during the plot scenes, when she’s laughing in a car with her friends, then seems a little deflated when she sees the offending dude at a party. But during the narration, she’s like a zombie. Is she wistful and over it? Is she angry and over it? Does she want the guy to know that she wants nothing to do with him again, or does she hope that the DVD of her rolling around on the carpet in a backless dress, hiking her skirt up to mid-thigh, will entice Cheaty McCheatser to come back to her? I don’t get it, and it’s not really Katharine’s fault as much as it is the director’s. I had the same problem with Daughtry’s video. But then again, videos (or songs, for that matter) don’t serve to tell stories these days so much as they serve as a miniature photo shoot for the singer. Meh.

Paaaaar-tay!

So much to do later today…recap Taylor Hicks’ concert last night, watch and comment on Katharine McPhee’s new video, and just report the general buzz in Idol land. Watch this space for updates later today.

Concert recap time!

The set list: “Taking It to the Streets,” getting the crowd good and energized; “Heaven Knows,” interspersed with cooing, teasing vocals; “The Maze,” funkified with a punched-up, semi-Latin flavor that works so much better than the recorded version (and if this is the next single, I hope they remix it); “Dream Myself Awake,” which still sucks; “Call Me The Breeze;” “Hold Onto Your Love” tagged with “Chain Gang”; “Can’t Trust Your Neighbor,” a fabulous blues-rock numer where Taylor’s acrobatic, nuanced,honeyed-gravel vocals really shine; an even funkier “Hell of a Day;” a tour-de-force “Just To Feel That Way,” one of his best performances of the song I’ve ever heard; “Heart and Soul;” “Wherever I Lay My Hat,” which was somewhat less cheesy but still not one of my favorites; “Young Turks,” dedicated to the kids in the audience; the most gorgeous version of “The Right Place;” “The Runaround” as closer; and as an encore at the behest of the crowd, Eric Clapton’s “Badge.”

The crowd: Sure, the Glitter Division of the Soul Patrol was representin’; there were women decked out in Taylor Hicks T-shirts (some purchased, some homemade — and very well made; no Bedazzling or Puffy Paint as far as I could see), blinking guitar pins, and official-looking badges, but for the most part, the crowd was comprised of families with young or teenaged children, groups of women in their mid-20s, and yes, some middle-aged women. Interestingly, the crowd was about forty percent men, the vast majority of whom looked like they actually wanted to be there, and were dancing, clapping, and generally having a great time. In fact, to my write was a gaggled of — GASP! — teenaged boys, swaying back and forth, tapping their feet, and snapping lots of pictures. My younger brother came to the show with me, and though he still maintains that he’d never voluntarily listen to a Taylor Hicks album, he had a great time, and had nothing but kind words for Taylor’s performing style.

The band: The band rocks. They’ve taken some of the cheesiest songs on the album and turned them into funkier, bluesier numbers. They are “doin’ these songs right,” so to speak. The band operates like a well-oiled machine, and what strikes me is how much damn fun they all seem to be having. The biggest surprise of the night was backup singer Melanie Nyema’s solo — what a beautiful, earthy voice on that girl. Maybe we’ll see her as the next Melinda Doolittle…I wouldn’t be surprised.

Taylor himself: Whoo-ee, that boy sure is sweaty! For real, though, I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone having more fun doing what it is they do than Taylor has up on that stage. He’s here, he’s there, he’s everywhere — which is why some of my pictures are so blurry. He spins, jumps, shakes, wails, coos, rocks and twirls. He’s also silly, at one point (after my camera died, of course) taking the various Mardi Gras items that were thrown onto the stage and dressing his guitarist in a purple pimp hat, and himself donning a purple, green and gold feather boa (which, I have to say, looked rather smashing on him, even if it did clash with the silver blazer and slate-blue shirt he had going on).

Quotes of the evening:

“Taylor, I want to…kiss your forehead!” –a couple of drunk ladies behind me

“DAMMIT! I’m at the wrong concert!” –an older gentleman in front of me, after Taylor introduced himself to the crowd

“Stay the fuck still, Taylor! I’m trying to take your picture!” –me

“I did not need to know what kind of underwear Taylor prefers.” –my brother, after Taylor’s spinning-wheel act revealed an apparent preference for tighty whities

He likes the nightlife, he likes to boogie.

There are two or three reporters at the St. Petersburg Times who absolutely hate Taylor Hicks with the passion of a thousand burning suns. So the Times, because it cares about its credibility (I’d assume; it could have been because the others walked out in protest) sent its only neutral reviewer — a guy who’d never really heard Hicks sing before — to last night’s show. Aaaaaaand? He kinda liked it.

He strapped on a guitar (he wasn’t terrible) for about a third of the set and played his own songs “Hell of a Day” and “The Deal.” You could tell he was having more fun playing his own material. Indeed, Hicks was at his best when he felt free enough to let his salt and pepper shake, and produce enough facial contortions to spook Joe Cocker. His goofy signature dance move – I call it the Jive-Walking Hunchback – is just dorky enough to make you grin…If Hicks wants to blossom, he might do well to let loose a little more often. He’s not a bad showman, but he’s a surprisingly solid musician. There’s no shame in being a modern standard-bearer for the white-bread blues; just ask Huey Lewis or Michael McDonald. Indeed, Hicks’ finest moment was the closing song that’s become his anthem, McDonald’s “Takin’ It to the Streets.” It was energetic, even dynamic, and Hicks’ harmonica work – outstanding, by the way – was really fun. The crowd loved it all. Me, I could have used more of the bluesy stuff. But his career will be fine either way. The Soul Patrol will see to that.

I could use more bluesy stuff, too. Ahh, maybe next time.

So were you wondering last night how it was that de facto Season Five winner (as far as TPTB are concerned) Chris Daughtry had his song “Home” selected to replace Bad Day? According to Variety, it wasn’t part of an evil plot to erase all memory of Taylor Hicks from the collective Idol consciousness:

Unfortunately for the “Idol” producers, Powter was signed to Warner Bros. As a result, his record label reaped big coin, while the “Idol” camp got bubkas. It’s no surprise, then, that this year’s exit song comes from Daughtry, a band fronted by 2006 “American Idol” contender Chris Daughtry — and signed to RCA/19, the official “Idol” record label. But Iain Pirie, head of 19 Entertainment U.S., said the song’s selection wasn’t a matter of keeping things all in the family. Back in October, Pirie had a meeting with “Idol” exec producer and 19 exec Nigel Lythgoe. Given Lythgoe’s role in helping launch Daughtry, Pirie figured he’d want to hear some tracks from the group’s upcoming album. “I brought a rough version of ‘Home’ and played it for Nigel. He called up Simon Fuller right away, and they both agreed right away that the song had the sentiment to be the perfect ‘Idol’ exit song,” Pirie told Daily Variety. “It seemed to fit perfectly.”

American Idol: Top 12 Chopping Block

I hope we get some sweet pointy pose action tonight.

Ryan reads us a glittery, dazzling list of celebrities who will be appearing on Idol this season. Diana Ross, Jon Bon Jovi, Gwen Stefani (?), J.Lo (???), Tony Bennett, Martina McBride, and Barry Gibb (!). At least they did a better job of mixing the classics with the contemporaries this season.

Flashback to Tuesday and Wednesday. In short: most of the guys sucked, most of the girls rocked. Melinda Doolittle, Leslie Hunt and Sabrina Sloan are lumped together as the Awesome Arethas; Gina Glocksen and Haley Scarnatoget painted as pale imitations of Celine (which they were). Antonella Barba, Amy Krebs and Alaina Alexander get the “who the hell let these people into a singing contest?” edit, while Lakisha Jones is again touted as the Savior of All Things Musical. Meh.

The group song is Tears for Fears. A good song? Where’s my cheesiness? Where’s my “Love the One You’re With?” Where’s my “Take it Easy?” Boo! Pointy Poses are supposed to be pure Velveeta! This one showcases more boys than girls. Phil Stacey sounds okay, Rudy Cardenas is still annoying. Sundance Head is a shadow of his former self. Blake Lewis, Brandon Rogers, Paul Kim, Chris Sligh and AJ Tablado are all rather interchangable vocally. Jordin Sparks and Melinda both look hot and sound great. Sabrina is still shrieking at me. Lakisha sounds good, but still a little too one-note for my tastes.

So who’s out? We start with the men. Nick Pedro is petrified. Sligh, who quite obviously spent his downtime lurking on message boards and realizing that his Teletubbies jab at Simon was rather ill-timed, quickly backtracks and professes his love and respect for Mr. Il Divo. Well played, Sligh. Well played. I’m still totally underwhelmed by you, though. Anyway, the back row of men line up on the seal. Brandon is safe. Scared-shitless Sundance is safe. Roy Head, lookin’ pretty spry (if not a bit shellacked) for a man his age, kisses his wife in celebration up in the red room. Scabby Chris Richardson will need to request another week off from the Hooters, as he’s safe. Nick is safe. Rave refugee Blake is safe, leaving poor Paul Kim all alone on the seal, and in lightning-quick fashion a la DAUGHTRY!!!11’s shocking boot last year, Paul is toast. Hmm. I didn’t think he was awful…but he wasn’t good enough, that’s for sure. In the red room, Paul’s posse looks pissed. His singout is pitchy, but he’s utterly devastated, so I can’t really rag on him for it. And he’s still making those Faces of the Guy I Dated Two Summers Ago, and it’s still weird. Buh-bye, Paul.

“Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader?” actually looks like a pretty cool show.

Row of girls. Jordin and her slight bot-ness but objective awesomeness are safe. Amazing Stephanie Edwards is safe, as is shrieky Sabrina, who — sorry — totally gives off the entitlement vibe. I’ll hold out judgment for now, but…yeah. Smoky Leslie and fabulous Melinda are safe. The power of VFTW plus a thousand “omg shes so pretty!!!111″ votes transferred from McPhee to Antonella keep her safe. Amy gets the boot.

Commerical break. I Google. Lakisha, Melinda, Leslie and Stephanie do not have fansites. Alaina and Antonella do. That’s so fucked up.

Fantasia rocks the house vocally, but her ill-fitting lavendar dress is just all kinds of unfortunate. Randy does a little bow-down motion toward her, giving her the kind of love that Ruben and Taylor will never, ever see from this show. It’s really obnxious, considering what a self-parody Randy’s become over the past year. Fantasia announces that she’ll be starring as Celie in “The Color Purple” on Broadway. Dude. I saw Fantasia’s Lifetime movie, and…her acting was just baaaaad. I hope she’s improved.

More girls on the seal. Boring Haley is boringly safe. Lakisha is obviously safe, and I do want her to make the Top 12, if only to see what Dean Banowetz does with her hair. Gina, who looks really pretty tonight, is safe, and it’s down to Nicole Tranquillo and Alaina. It’s Alaina, right? If there’s any justice in this world? Well, there’s no justice, and Nicole is out. Okay, I didn’t like Nicole — something about her rubbed me the wrong way — but she was miles ahead of Alaina. Oh well. She sings out, and it’s okay, but she looks so misplaced, like a college student in search of her 8 AM class accidentally wandered onto the soundstage. Look, Nicole, either look like you’re making an effort or go the anti-fashion route, but either way, at least look like you care (or care enough not to care).

Room for one more on the chopping block. Sligh lives to scheme another day. Phil and his crooked cap are safe. Aww, his wife is so adorable! Jared, AJ, boring but safe, leaving twee little Sanjaya Malakar and Rudy on the seal. Naturally, Rudy is gone. Ryan asks Simon what he has to say, and Simon says you can’t turn an okay singer into a great singer. If he’s merely okay, why’d you put him through to the Top 24, Simon?

Bad Day montage featuring DAUGHTRY!!!11’s “Home.” (Gah!) Ryan implores us to stay tuned for the series finale of “The OC,” which I most certainly will not. Rudy sings, and Quincy Jones refuses to clap along. And sadly, I’ve forgotten these four folks already.