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Ah, me. When last we met, we were all either debating whether or not to ever watch this show again, for various happy or sad reasons. Now here we are again already! How time flies. I hope you’ve all finally finished filling your ipods with Adam Lambert and gotten your Kris picture postcards framed just so. I spent the intervening months determining the perfect audition song, should I ever lose custody of my mind and be out of the reach of all my family and friends, and thus decide to try out for AI. It’s the theme from Family Ties. Sha la la la.
But enough about my hypothetical audition. Idol’s back, and it’s in Boston to chronicle people who actually did show up, despite the lack of Paula, despite the presence of Kara, and despite never being able to own Kradison (or whoever it is you personally liked), in order to stake their claims on Season 9. Here’s my pre-emptive hope that no one shows up in a thong. (I know; that’s more like wishful thinking.) This is also apparently our last season of Simon, so, remember to savor the flavor. That should be easy to do tonight, because our first audition episode also features liberal sprinkles of Posh Spice, who is sitting in for our dear departed Paula.
Somewhere, Out There…
We open with a Behind the Music-like montage of ominous sound bites and morose remembrances and slow-mo video to recap how Paula has floated off to Valhalla or Pandora or somewhere, to ride dragons and sprinkle things with fairy dust. The montage leaves me once again realizing that yes, Kara is here, and Paula is not. And although that realization causes despair to settle around me like a haze, somehow the sight of the sun rising over various arenas is able to lift my spirits a little. Because even though I know how very far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star. Oh no, I might all of a sudden have a new challenger for perfect audition song.
Anyway, Boston. It’s pouring rain there on Audition Day One, but the thousands of poncho-covered, umbrella-holding future American Idols are still incredibly chipper because they are our future. The limos pull up and each of the judges emerge to whoops and hollers, except Kara, who only has two girls willing to cheer for her. Also, Spice Girls music plays, and Posh says some pleasant things about singing and dreams, and away we go!
Boston Plea Party
Inaugurating Season 9 is red-faced, jumpy Janet McNamara. You may have seen her in the teaser commercials – she’s the one wearing the pink midriff top and bewildered facial expression. Janet confesses that she’s only been singing “well” for about two years; last year she even got that AI karaoke game, and of course her skills multiplied exponentially. Video Simon now regularly tells her she’s great instead of wishing a violent death upon her.
Janet also has a set pre-audition ritual that includes relieving herself, jumping up and down, and telling herself she’s “wicked awesome.” That meddlesome Ryan instructs her to break down the door into the judging area, and Janet obediently barges in to be judged. Simon remarks on her mastery of the video game, and says that this audition will prove whether or not the game is worth buying. Proving already proven things, are we? Way to just embrace that retread mantle, Season 9.
Janet is awful, as you no doubt well knew she would be. She “sings” “Pocketful of Sunshine” like “to sing” means “to imitate an egret.” Also she dances like there’s a DDR mat underneath her feet. So, Janet fails. Except for how she calls Kara Paula a million times and therefore ascends from failure to not so bad actually. She begs and begs for another chance, but everyone tells her no; Janet says they’re all wicked ahsome nevertheless, some things get bleeped, and she runs into the arms of her slightly-too-hot-for-her girlfriend, who looks very reassuring.
Now here’s someone who needs no reassurance, because even the cloudy skies of Boston part to shine sun down on her audition: 16 year old Maddie Curtis, from Bluemont, Virginia. She comes from a family of twelve children, and three of her brothers have Down’s Syndrome, and two of those are adopted. This is important for some unidentifiable reason. Also, Maddie sings. I don’t think y’all care about that though? Oh, you do? How odd. Well then, once in front of the judges Maddie talks endearingly about having watched the show since she was 8, and how standing in front of ⅔ of the original panel is surreal because she thought of them more as phantoms or dream-granting fairies than as real people. Simon finds this very charming and so is extremely pleased with her even before Maddie announces her intent to sing “Hallelujah;” after that he’s about ready to buy her a pony. And once she sings “Hallelujah” well? Oh, he’s probably picking out unicorns.
Clearly it’s a unanimous pass for Maddie, and I’m sure we’ll see more of her soon. But on to less successful experiences. It’s an audition show, after all.
Some guy with hair and glasses that make statements is complaining about having to wait all this time, and we’ll see more of him later, but some other guy’s wisely using that extra time to practice hisnumchuck skillskiller dancing skills. Pat Ford, 17, loves to say “Holla!” and be himself wherever he goes. He brought an entourage of geek groupies in Pat Ford t-shirts, but even all that aggregated patheticness can’t help him get through to Hollywood after his completely stupid rendition of “Womanizer.” When asked what he thinks of his own chances, Pat assumes he did awesome, and says that Simon is even sassier in person. This kid rules a little bit. Even when he says Kara is a sweetheart. They talk about how many friends Pat has and how few Simon had as a cranky, 50 year old high schooler. Pat really wants to go to Hollywood. Randy says, “Stop singing forever,” but Randy never heeds my requests that he shut up forever, so I don’t think Pat should mind his. “See you next season,” Pat says, as he strolls out the door.
Wicket Smaht
Pat signifies how much the boys of Boston sucked, and thus handily introduces a string of successful lay-dees: Jennifer Hirsh of NYC, who did some kind of jazz improv version of “Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead,” Claire Fuller from Philly who trumpeted a Mr. Big Song of all things, and Brooklyn’s Jess Wolfe, who earned my ire but the judges’ approval by singing “People Get Ready,” as if it were a club slow jam. Golden ticket rejoicing sessions for all, and so far none for any smelly boys.
But after lunch the tide apparently begins turning and washes over some of those boys, leaving them sweet-smelling and headed for Hollywood. One in particular who we will spend a great deal of time on is Amadeo Dirocco, a loud and proud Italian-American guy from Rhode Island who will probably never be exploited by MTV except perhaps tangentially, but makes no bones about exploiting himself and his family, who are like a great big real-life Olive Garden commercial, sans breadsticks. Oh wait; there they are.
Amedeo’s exuberance is a little unsettling to Ryan, who is of course very much like a Sunday School teacher at heart, but in front of the judges Amadeo is downright sedate, asking for a moment to process the whole experience and launching into a sweet little monologue about how his wife urged him to audition. Then he announces his intention to sing a Muddy Waters song, and the panel humors him because he’s a big Italian guy, and then he starts to sing and is passable, but since they thought he’d be putrid, passable = Pavarotti. Kara in particular nods deeply with her eyes closed like she knows the blues, calls Amadeo paisan, and says he makes her feel like she’s home with her cousins. Simon says Amadeo was his favorite audition of the day and likes the idea that this show will give someone like him a chance. An overjoyed Amedeo barge out of the room into the arms of his paisanos, who hoist him up and form some kind of a ring of macho that traps a startled Ryan in the middle, all to the strains of “Funiculi, Funicula,” and none of this is essentialist or insulting, at all. Amadeo has a really serviceable voice, but he also has the potential to be ... TMTH. My guess is Amadeo will be going through Hollywood; here’s hoping his three exclamation points dotted with pepperoni get toned down to a nice em dash in tomato sauce in the future. And please Lord, let him never say anything about cheese balls.
Kung Fu Fighting, Dancing Queen, Traveled Spaceman, and All That’s In-Between
Ryan astutely observes that we need to mellow out after that testosterone overdose, so, enter Derek Hilton, to the strains of Enigma’s “Return to Innocence.” See him, flowing blonde locks, pure wide smile, and striped Oxford shirt, blow a flower blossom into the air, and watch that blossom fall feebly to the ground, as Derek tells us all about how the beauty of music helped him through the low points in his life. Unfortunately Derek runs right smack into another low point as he enters the audition room. He forgets to say hello to the judges, so Simon chides him for his rudeness. Next Posh reads from his bio that his voice is a cross between the Eagles and Chris Brown, and Derek pronounces himself a fan of Chris’s because he, and I quote, “touches young kids all over the world.” Yeah. This was filmed in June mind you, so. Yeah. Derek reveals his choice to sing Elton John’s “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word,” but is only met by derisive snorts. And finally, he sings as if he has no throat, only a nose. The judges are not at all kind to this feeble flower, and soon send him on his way, sadder, but perhaps wiser. Oh no, not wiser, because as he leaves Derek shares his disagreement with the judges and asserts, “I know I’m amazing at what I do.” He is also sad because he won’t get to “touch America,” and I’m sad because he doesn’t realize how creepy that sounds.
Oh well. Moving on through a sad, sad medley of tear-stained faces who will also never get to touch America, we land at Mere Doyle, who had to stand alone outside the arena in the rain among a forest of umbrellas, and who is a self-proclaimed otaku, which … I don’t know if I even have to tell you now that Mere also designs kimonos and would love to be a big pop star in Japan, but there you go anyway, boxes ticked. Mere eventually hollers a Janis Joplin song and flails around like an idiot, but that isn’t the point. The point is that the judges ravage her on TV. Mere doesn’t understand how Simon can say mean things to her because her voice coaches (plural), theater directors (plural), and probably all of her LJ friends think she is an amazing singer. She begs some more and they reject her some more. “Singing is my life,” Mary says mournfully. She must be dead.
On to brighter things, like three dudes strumming guitars and harmonizing in the waiting area. The first is super-handsome Luke Shaffer, a 24 year old waiter from NYC. He sings Second Serenade’s “Fall For You” in an average voice and thrills everyone into big smiles because he’s super-handsome with an average voice. Then less handsome Benjamin Bright, who teaches music to elementary schoolers and has a very good voice, gets much smaller smiles but still unanimous approval. I would normally be surprised that someone like Benjamin made it through, but somebody did dig up Mr. Big earlier, so I guess I’ve lost the ability to be shocked anymore. So yay.
Let’s Talk About Who I Don’t Like. At All.
We’re nearing the end of Day One, and although we’ve seen some nutters, so far we’ve seen nothing to reach the level of horrible circus required to make an auditions episode an auditions episode. And so welcome, Andrew Fenlon. He’s the guy who we saw getting irritated by the long wait times at only 11 AM. When we meet him again, it’s past 6 and he’s still pissed, and growing ever more so because of the cameras constantly taking advantage of him being pissed. This apexes with him flipping off the camera. He does a pre-chat with Ryan and then like, can’t believe it’s actually time, and then he enters the audition room and pisses off everyone else by responding to Simon’s dumb questions like the dumb questions they are. I know it’s what’s expected when you go to the auditions, but really, “Why do you want to be the American Idol?” Because it’ll help me cure cancer. Stupid questions are stupid, so I’m with Andrew. Until he sings.
He does “The House of the Rising Sun,” and it’s not horrible; he can carry a tune or whatever, but it’s strictly amateur hour. When he finishes Kara weirdly asks him if he’s angry, and Andrew says he was a bit annoyed with the long wait time. Kara is offended on behalf of all true artists with artistry who wait for years and years, and still may never get a break, and while she has a good point, I can never really forget what a huge dip she is in general. Plus, to be fair, it’s not like those other people never complain. Andrew thinks Kara’s putting too fine a point on things, but Kara is Kara so she’s not letting it go, and she ultimately says, “I am now angry at you, who I don’t like. At all.” She is such a child. I can’t … this is only the first episode, so I’m going to just ignore her for the rest of this because it’s too early to hate Kara. I certainly don’t want to burn out before Idol Gives Back. So, there’s now a long counseling session; Andrew says he was just trying to be confident, Posh says that backfired in a big way, and he shouldn’t be confident in the first place because he sucks in the second place. Andrew counters that he does have the goods, and he doesn’t seem to realize that he is extremely abrasive, but I don’t know whether I believe it or not. He gets three negatives, and a yes from Simon, which causes Posh to get in a lickle tiff wif her fellow Brit, but it’s stupid and unimportant in the scheme of things. Andrew says thanks to Simon for the vote, and ducks out of there shortly before the judges come to blows.
Et cetera
It’s time for a patented Idol Parade O’ Suck, featuring a deluded music teacher, and a spiritual singer among others. It leads, as usual, to a girl with an actual chance. 21 year old Ashley Rodriguez in stupidly high red heels and skinny jeans, who sings “If I Ain’t Got You”with just enough R&B affectation to make Kara think she’s authentic. Posh says Ashley is one of her favorites so far, and looks like a complete package; Simon thinks she has “it.” He was going to say she had the X factor, but thought better of it.
And now a kid who just recently fell out of a tree and broke both wrists, but who is not 6 years old. Let’s meet Tyler Grady, who is in fact 19, and so should know better. Tyler is a drummer, but has aspirations of being a front man. He also looks like Vinnie Barbarino, head to toe, and I don’t think that’s a compliment in 2010. Tyler sings “Let’s Get It On,” and I think he should get back to drumming whenever his wrists heal. But the lady judges loved him to bits and Randy and Simon offer much less effusive praise, but still approve because in Simon thinks he’s memorable. Day One ends on a high note, as Tyler is one of only 17 golden ticket getters.
Here’s The Story
Daaaaaaay Twoooo! Simon made everything late because he was visiting the site of the Boston Tea Party. This ushers in a brief history of the American Revolution from Ryan, who probably just captured the attention of 10 million ten year olds better than their real teachers ever have with the same material. Kids love elves.
We open with Lisa Olivero, a waitress from Billarica, MA, which is a very cool team name. When it’s slow in the restaurant, Lisa and her fellow hops pass the time by singing. Lisa favors La Aguilera and Mariah, and I think that bodes well for her audition. Posh thinks her Coke bottle figure and the absence of pants (Leggings do not count! Nope!) will also ingratiate her with Simon. She is half right. He makes no bones about leering at her before and after rejecting her for her terrible job on “Vision of Love.”
A brief detour through intolerance as people with accents are grouped in with random weirdos and are then mocked, and Simon begins beating the table like a two year old who wants his sippy, because this job for which he is paid unjustifiable sums of money to sit at a desk and be a dick is somehow difficult.
Then we meet a guy who looks like every guy in Journey’s at the mall, and who does speed boat tours in the harbor. His boat – Codzilla – just so happens to glide past the judging room window as he introduces himself. Serendipity! Mike Davis is 18 and invites everyone onto the boat and is pretty charming, and he sings “Yesterday” pleasantly and blandly enough to sail through this stage and be a worrisome wonder come Hollywood.
I hope you’ve noticed and appreciated getting halfway through day two with no Kellie Pickler Memorial Sappy Backstory Segment. Because now to tug your heart-strings, is a young girl helping her grandma climb stairs. Katie Stevens is apparently a walking sympathy factory from Middlebury, CT. She has always been really close to her grandmother, and so Katie continues to smile at her and hold her hand even though she now has Alzheimer’s. The grandmother, not Katie. Katie just has a good singing voice, and that’s not going to get you a five-minute package on an audition show, so. From Katie: “I want her to see me succeed at my dream before she forgets who I am.” Wow. Far be it from me to say that’s not touching, but … it’s also not necessary criteria for the rest of the country to decide if you can sing. I don’t care that she’s 16 and genuinely sweet; this is just as gross to me as Gokey’s wife-mourning. That may be an unpopular opinion.
Anyway, Katie has one of the best voices to be on the show in a long while, but she tries too hard to be soulful on “At Last.” Of course, it’s an audition so you try harder than normal. I am looking forward to seeing her sing something more contemporary during Hollywood week, and I don’t want to hear anything further about her grandmother.
Lessons Learned
Next up, some sweet man-child named Joshua Blaylock with a voice three degrees better than Chris Richardson’s tackles “God Bless the Broken Road,” and earns a trip to Hollywood after Simon says his voice would’ve been good for a 14 year old, and Randy coaches him on how to tell Simon to shut up.
Ryan treats us to a brief look at the myriad cameras and booms and such that shake people up and make them bomb their auditions, and this segues somehow to Justin Williams. Justin actually made it to Hollywood last week and once there became part of the epic group known as White Chocolate (WC also included eventual winner K-sizzle, Matt Giraud, and Rapping India), but we weren’t interested in Justin until this year when we found out he had cancer. He is now thankfully cancer-free, and ready to try Idol again. He looks like an Abercrombie model and he sings “Feeling Good” in a beautiful voice that only slightly wavers on the high notes. When he’s done, Simon blushes and says, “Thank you.” That’s pretty much all that need be said.
Norberto Guerrerro. He’s 18, from Reading, PA, and lists his occupation as “Actor/Retail” (bustling acting scene over there in Reading?), and he combines Marie Osmond’s hair, Robert Pattinson’s beard, and your average Twihard’s style to produce an overall look that screams the opposite of lovely and normal. He sings Cascada’s “Every Time When We Touch” exactly like William Hung would sing “Every Time We Touch,” if William Hung were a countertenor, and Simon says it was disconcerting to hear such a girly voice come out of a guy with a beard.
Now we meet Bosa Mora, who will be this year’s requisite American Dream story, as his parents both came to the U.S. from Nigeria and met in college. Bosa says his mother and father always wanted to pursue music, and they are now living vicariously through him, but he says it in a way that makes it sound sweeter than that. In front of the judges Bosa sings “You Look So Good in Love,” and his voice is very nice, but he’s a pretty unpolished singer. I guess the English word for unpolished would be “rough,” but that seems a bit harsh for Bosa. Simon says he was good but boring, but Posh disagrees, and when Simon rolls his eyes she takes him to task for that because she is the sweet and constructive guest. Bosa makes it through nevertheless on the strength of Randy, Posh, and that other woman’s votes, and he runs out to hug his family while that one Rusted Root song that sounds vaguely like “world music” plays in the background. Welcome to Hollywood, Bosa.
Out Like a Lamb
Last up forever in Bean Town is Leah Laurenti, a 22 year old from a really strict, really churchy family in Long Island. Leah’s parents don’t really groove on secular music, but Leah thinks that if singing feels so natural and right, it can’t be wrong. This thought makes her a little misty, and it only gets worse as she makes her way in to see the judges in a denim dress and tutu that she must have borrowed from Cyndi Lauper’s “She Bop” video. She admits she gets “sensitive” about singing because singing is so important to her, and they leave her alone for that, which is lucky because I don’t think Leah can take much poking. Brooke White is probably more put together. But Leah can sing; she does “Blue Skies,” and aside from some unnecessary trills, it’s flawless. Her voice is now the best so far. Sorry Katie. Leah calls her evil parents and asks if they’re proud that she’s going to Hollywood, and her mother says, “Of course!” So we’ll see.
31 tickets total were handed out over the two days in Boston, and we see many of them rejoicing and singing and cheering and waving golden pieces of paper around, I can’t help but take a page from the book of Michael Kors and say I’m underwhelmed. There were a few very pretty voices and a few lovely personalities to come out of Boston, but none of them were together in the same person. Maybe we’ll fare better in Atlanta. Idol loves the South after all. Stay tuned, because my awesome partner Ms Froggy is on deck to serve up all the southern hospitality for you. She may even go native and do it with a twang!
Who do you think should replace Simon next year? I vote Conan O’Brien. Sha la la la.
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And Idol just loves that kind of parade! 
Another great start to the new season of recaps, except for one thing - it's never too early to start hating Kara. 
