American idol 5 -- episode 10

By: B -- 4/5/06

If I’m going to continue watching this season of American Idol, I need to forget two things that happened last week:

1. Chris Daughtry confessing that his performance of Johnny Cash’s “I Walk The Line” the week before was actually a rip-off of Live’s arrangement. I, having never heard Live’s version, naturally fawned all over Daughtry’s take, calling it “the most unique cover I’ve ever heard on Idol.” I feel so duped. In fact, I’m still blushing. Shouldn’t the performers be required to admit such things before they sing?

2. Katharine McPhee receiving the second-lowest votes. My roommate Spoon nearly had a coronary while watching, repeating “If she goes home I’m never watching this show AGAIN” over and over while doing the angry finger-point thing at the telly screen. After Seacrest reported that Kat was safe (with Tucker being sent home), Spoon exhaled, stood up and slowly stumbled to his bedroom. I lightly tapped on his door later but received no reply. His whimpers lasted throughout the night.

This week's theme is “Country Music Night,” which is unfortunate but, considering the low expectations I’ve placed on the evening, can’t possibly be worse than 21st Century Week . The featured guest this week is Kenny Rogers, who has inexplicably become a full-fledged metrosexual. Who’s next, John Rocker? Oh, wait, never mind.

Taylor Hicks
Taylor is actually standing behind the front-and-center violin player and gets overshadowed both visually and audibly. His voice is lost under the music of “Take Me Home Country Road,” making for a weak performance. Zero percent of Hicksy’s version is unique. Want to hear a superior version of the tune? Hang out in Spoon’s bathroom while he’s taking his morning shower. He won’t mind. Trust me. (Verdict on Taylor’s performance: lame. Lame again, old man. You are on thin ice.)

Mandisa
Mandisa’s performance of Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine” strikes me as wholly unrealistic. Mandisa, girl, if a man shows interest in you, do not make him walk the line. Do not make him show you a teasin' squeezin' pleasin' kinda time. You hang on to that man with every last breath. He may be your only chance.

After the performance, Rachel Bilson is shown in the crowd and I instantly black out. Thanks to TiVo, I finish the show when Spoon revives me a few hours later with a kick to the ribs.

Elliott Yamin
Elliott spices up the teen yawner “If Tomorrow Never Comes” with some subtle vocal gymnastics, but he can’t save the sorry song selection (hello again, alliteration!). Nevertheless, I’m still in this goateed white boy’s corner.

Paris Bennett
Our favorite Midwesterner Paris dresses the part Tuesday, looking all countrified with a ruffly blouse and jeans tucked into the requisite cowgirl boots. Paris’s “How Do I Live Without You” receives low marks from every judge but Simon. I’m wishy-washy. Her voice is powerful but lacks the talent for the delicate fluctuations required in the verses.

Ace Young
Ace chooses to sing Keith Urban’s “I Want To Cry,” which sounds like a song written for a funeral scene in an after-school special. Ace struggles through a few notes, sticking mostly to his gentle upper register (only pulling out the predictable falsetto with the last note), but is ultimately decent. Much as I hate to admit it. When Ryan reports “Oh, and ladies, Ace is officially single!” when he’s rattling off Ace’s call-in number, I wonder if the producers instructed Ryan to say that so Ace’ll stick around a few weeks longer. I think he may need the help. America seems to be getting over its collective crush.

Kellie Pickler
Holy rack. Kellie’s got the wavering cup-size of Britney Spears. I’m a bit vexed, but since tonight is a C+ night, I’ll let it go. I don’t know who originally sang “Fancy,” but it suits Pickles just fine. The fast-talking verses and aggressive vocals are perfect for her full-o’-holes tone. It’s not great – it never is with this chick – but I’ll guarantee it’s enough to keep her around another week.

Chris Daughtry
When Chris begins his performance sitting on a stool, I’m a bit underwhelmed. The underwhelmosity doesn’t end with the selection (the second Urban track of the evening) or the arrangement, but Chris doesn’t have it in him to suck. He continues to intensely stare right through the camera as he sings. Panicked, I apologize to the TV screen as if Chris is actually in my living room. Spoon just stares at me, dumbstruck. (Chris’s performance will end up being the night’s second best, after the next chick.)

(Mostly unrelated aside: The good news about Chris is that I just learned his two “kids” are actually his step-kids; he married a mother of two. Why is that good news? Because when he inevitably leaves his woman for the bright lights of Hollywood, America will hate him less. Good for you, Chris!)

Katharine McPhee
I don’t know the song (“You’re bringing out the Elvis in me”?) Katharine sings, but it rocks despite the – ONCE AGAIN – overpowering backing band. Tone it down, orchestra! It’s not a contest, for fuck’s sake. Either way, Katharine hits every last note with ease. Prediction: after last week’s debacle, Katharine rides the sympathy vote all the way to the top.

Bucky Covington
The pre-performance clip features The Gambler claiming that Bucky’s best attribute is his enunciation, which is like saying that Daughtry’s finest asset is his hair. Bucky grunts and mumbles like Boomhower, hitting about a third of the notes before his performance, and the night, mercifully ends.

Next week: less band, more vocals.

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