Itís a crying kind of night on Idol. Everyoneís talking about shedding or not shedding tears, and crying through video packages and trips down memory lane, so weíll just have to go with it. If youíre anything like me, you had on your-your-your-your-your boogie shoes for this weekís performances, because if thereís anything the Bee Gees are known for, I mean besides the tight white pants, itís those infectious disco dancing tunes. Yet Bee Gees week has turned out to be a somber affair. For the most part, the kids zigged with the mellow when they shouldíve zagged with the night fever, and regrettable choices were made by all. If you missed any of Tuesdayís show, you should definitely hustle on over and check out AJaneís excellent recap of the nightís events. Done? Great, then I can begin talking about crazy cool medallions. Oh, and *sniffle,* your results too.
Ryan gets the sadness going early, punching us in our collective stomach with a reminder of how much it must suck to put your heart and soul on the line every week only to get cut right at the end. Oh, and itís Bizarro Idol tonight, what with Simon and Paula switching seats! This is apparently important somehow, and funny too, as Simon seal-claps and Paula rubs her chest inappropriately during Ryanís roll call. Seriously. Couldnít make that up if I wanted to. Well I guess I could, but why would I want to? Ryan says that Simonís breasts are bigger than Paulaís, but heís asking for it so itís just no fun for me to say that Ryan knows this from hands-on experience. It is, however, my duty, so there you go.
Ryan asks the judges if they expect a shocking result tonight, and Randy answers without saying anything at all. Paula says something about having to sing two songs as a challenge that not everyone met. Ryan takes this cue to rehash everything that ever happened ever on Tuesday, because there are like 6 Coke commercials that have to be aired tonight, and they need an hour of show to do it, so here we are. But Iím not recapping it. See also: Ryan-On-The-Street. Oh, except for one bit out of that, when Ryanís chatting up some old lady about all the famous people the Idol contestants have met so far, and she politely tries to add his name to the list, only she calls him ĎBryan.í And I laugh and laugh, only not in a polite way, as Ryan self-deprecatingly refers to himself as Bryan Seacast. Okay, so it wasnít that funny, but this crap is getting longer and longer each week. I try and make the best of it. It sort of hurts though when Ryan acknowledges the filleriness of this filler, because itís like, he knows how much it sucks, and he just wonít stop. Thatís mean, Meancrest.
The Filling Station
Hey, go see the Idols live on tour, why not? Itíll make you feel at least as good as Crazy Crying Girl. Oh, and if you do go, make sure and ask somebody how Stephanie Edwards is doing. I miss her.
A pre-recorded Pinkís all of a sudden performing now, instead of two weeks ago when they said sheíd be giving back and stuff, but then she didnít, so I thought weíd escaped, but no. As for the performance, itís Pink, so itís poppy, and there are a lot of low, mumbled lyrics full of intensity, and then an angsty chorus with drumming and stuff. So the usual, only not as much fun as when Kelly Clarkson does it.
Pimpmercial: Theyíre totally spitting in Sanjayaís eye by setting it to ďYou Really Got Me.Ē I totally donít mind. The filmís got that washed-out archival footage look where the only color that shows up is red, and all the kids are like mod-sters running from legions of crazy fans. Then a Ford appears out of nowhere and saves the day! as they get in the heroic automobile and drive away. Incredible.
Singiní Them Sweet Sounds
As always, the American Idol Challenge really makes me want to spend 99 cents, because the questions are so easy itís like theyíre forcing me to win; meanwhile, Ryan just canít stop talking about how terrible last nightís show was, so he mentions the awful song choices that everyone made. Twice. The judges pretty much agree. This serves to introduce the group sing thatís full of better songs. Melinda starts us off and has some wonky mic issues on ďEmotions.Ē Then they all get their two-step sway together just in time to do the pretty harmony-building part quite pleasantly. We soldier on through ďToo Much Love,Ē and then some song I donít know about highways, and then ďIslands in the Stream,Ē which I never knew Barry Gibb wrote. How educational Idol is. Itís suddenly very obvious that Blakeís the only guy left, as he carries ďYou Win AgainĒ all by his lonesome and sort of forgets the words and then gets them back in time to trade some classic Bee Gees style ďI-haísĒ with Jordin. They all do a little choo-choo train on the ďIíll be following youĒ line, and isnít it cute. Then Melinda and LaKisha get to do some soul-stirring and hip swaying on Diana Ross' ďChain Reaction,Ē and Jordin tries too, but the melody gets a bit away from her. Nice tribute. So nice in fact, that Ryan names them The Lewis Sisters, and maybe Blakeís okay with being present in name only. But whereís Barry Effiní Gibb?
Emotions, Taking Them Over
Perhaps heís backstage primping his chest hair, because for now itís time to talk to the contestants. Ryan asks LaKiki what she was saying to herself during the break, and it turns out she was giving herself a pep talk to remember the words and not cry if she goes home. Iím already misty over here. Jordin had a great old nervous time picking two songs. Ryan needles Blake for a reaction to the criticism he received from Simon about his terrible performance, and Blake plays cute but dumb, and Ryan gives a cross between a giggle and a chuckle, which means heís verymuchthisclose to scribbling Blakeís name all over his yearbook. LaKisha had a rough night, lots of stressful things happened with her arrangement and her outfit, and then she had butterfly-type hopes of Simon kissing her again. Ryan plays this for laughs instead of ews, hinting with a clenched jaw that Simonís girlfriend is in the audience tonight. Melinda talks about bringing more to her game next week, because sheíll totally be here next week. Then thereís some shilling of a new movie, and I donít play that so Iím not even going to mention the name of it. Iím just going to sit here drinking my Coke and texting tons of friends at super-reasonable rates on my AT&T phone.
When thatís done, itís time to get to know more about our contestants, so strap in and grab another Coke while this clip of precious baby pictures and tender feelings goes on and on. Or you can just read my twelve-second summation (it works best if you pretend like youíre that fast-talking FedEx/Micro Machines guy): Everyone but Jordin is an only child, and LaKiki and Melinda were both raised by their mothers; Baby Melinda rocked rough and stuff in her afro puffs, Jordin as a (younger) child looked just like Jordin now, only eight feet shorter; Blake always gave the dorky tight-lipped half smile/half frown in pictures. LaKiki, Blake, and Jordin were all naughty chatterboxes in school. Melinda was not. Some had supportive and talented parents, but Jordinís talent is a gift; LaKisha feels this is the greatest thing ever to happen to her, and must cry to tell us so. Melinda is learning how to dream big, and so is Blake. Jordin counts her blessings each and every day, presumably while crying. There. Now take a breath. Itís cool; Ryan gives you time with a well-placed ďafter the break.Ē
Solidarity Forever. Or For A Minute, Anyway.
Begin the results! Or not, because all the contestants are on stage Öprotesting? Itís kind of awesome; theyíre in a huge group hug and wonít let go, even after some gentle schedule-crazy nudging from Ryan. He begins to read his results cards, and theyíre all still holding on. They do a little Mary Tyler Moore Finale group shuffle to hit the mark, which is so cute. Then Ryan tells Jordin sheís safe and thereís a last little squeeze while she breaks ranks and returns to Safety.
Ryan non-sequiturs into some sort of plea for submissions for a new show about bands. Look out for that next summer, for about three weeks.
Itís Barry Effiní Gibb!
Now, straight from the streets of Queensland, here is Barry Gibb to perform. I like that he didnít bother to dress up for the show (his shirt is missing a whole layer of fabric), and of course I love that he doesnít bother to finish enunciating half his words. A lot is always said about how corny and shallow the Bee Gees and their disco revolution were, and all of those things are right. But you canít deny them their place in pop history. Iíll give Barry Gibb some respect for building such a huge catalogue of canít-get-away-without-knowing-them-no-matter-how-much-you-try songs for himself, his band, and so many other artists. And even though I know Iíll be cursing him tonight around ten, when ďNights on BroadwayĒ and ďIslands in the StreamĒ are still. Stuck. In my head, Iím not going to criticize his performance of ďTo Love Somebody.Ē Not even when he finishes with his own special exhibit of the right hand of raw emotion in the air. Iím just that nice. Or bored. Whichever.
Light In Her Deepest, Darkest Hour
Results again. Remember how, last season when it got down to the final 4 you were all interested to find out who was going to make it, because the competition was just that exciting? Well I donít know what happened to all that, but it ainít here this year. Ryanís toying around with the results like always, and I care less about them now than I did during Hollywood when the results didnít even matter because we already knew Sanjaya was going to win. I am sad that LaKishaís going home though. Yes, itís inevitable, and Iíve known since last week, but I still wouldíve liked her not to be eliminated. Ryan quickly tells Melinda sheís made it into the final three with Jordin, and then itís LaKisha vs. Blake. Blake puts his arm around LaKiki, and Melinda gives a woeful look because she knows whatís going to happen. Randy is worthless. Simon guesses that LaKishaís out, and Paula gives the requisite sweet talk about them both being winners and deserving puppies and fields of daisies and pots of gold for working so hard all season. Ryan is uninterested in that, so he dims the lights and with very little fanfare gives LaKisha the deathblow.
She watches her journey from audition to the big stage, and dude she has to cry. Iím glad she lets the tears out, because I feel better about mine. Indulge me for a moment, as Iím about to get sappy. Even though this moment isnít the moment of triumph she mightíve wished for, itís such a testament to how far she has come, from a diffident bank teller in Flint to an honest-to-goodness star singing in front of the biggest audience in the country. LaKisha deserved this experience; we know that she is what American Idol is supposed to be about. She embodies my reason for even watching the show at all. So Iím happy for what LaKisha has done here, and Iím very proud of her as she performs her singout in true style, putting aside the irony of elimination and throwing every bit of verve and sass and awesome she has into the words of ďStayiní Alive.Ē Itís more than all right; itís better than okay. Itís the best singout ever. Congrats, Kiki.
Yes, I learned everything I know about the Bee Gees from The Barry Gibb Talk Show. Do you have anything to add? PM me here.