When Will I, Will I Be Famous?

Now, I’ve had a crappy weekend. I haven’t been feeling well and consequently I am in a foul temper and quite frankly I’m not in the mood to take/watch/listen to any shit. So all I’m asking is that Idol not suck. Too much to ask? Apparently so based on last night’s . . . for lack of any other word . . . show. Dissect. Disgust. Delouse. Discuss.

Holden has already anointed Emily the Cold as winner. She might as well be wearing a frickin’ crown on her head. As far as he is concerned she is Australian Idol 2005. He said on Extra that he already thought she was ‘as good as any winner we’ve had’. Man, they’re really upset that Ricki-Lee didn’t win last year aren’t they? Emily was pitchy, her vibrato was all over the place, she looked over-rehearsed with her ‘spontaneous’ audience participation and she sang one of the top ten alltime favourite karaoke songs of 1998. Gah. Just . . . GAH. Why do they love her? I get that she’ll sell CD’s and be a whole lot more marketable than Poor Poor Casey will ever be but does that make her the right choice?

Holden, don’t you dare tell FIHJ NOW that he needs a vocal coach and singing lessons. YOU put him through Wildcard, you thought he was good enough then, WHY are you choosing to tell him now that he needs singing lessons? Not that its anything new to me, I’ve said that before and if he doesn’t go tonight, I’ll say it again, BUT the time to say that was at the Seymour Centre. Not after several weeks of performing, not after making me sit through weeks of his tuneless bollocks and NOT after he’s made it this far. James told G he was a bit lost. FIHJ? That’s because the trail of breadcrumbs I left for you led out the door and to the bus station where I left a ticket for you back to your mother’s house, and NOT back on to stage. Tonight I’ll leave you a map, a spelunking helmet and some global positioning equipment, use them wisely.

Team Kate should be a little worried tonight. There is a very real chance, she’ll bottom three tonight, although if I had my way she’d be one of the final two standing in this comp. I thought she was joyful tonight, very infectious. She was enjoying herself on stage and I loved the ponytail, I just wish she’d done some Madonna or Cher – that would have been awesome. I don’t get what Holden is talking about, I don’t think of this song as a song about passion, but rather a song of joy and happiness which I thought she totally nailed. It’s Chaka Khan, not Don’t Cry For Me Argentina. Buuuuut. Not my favourite Kate performance and I am concerned for her.

Oh DanS . . . I think you sang well tonight, but dude, did you pick the wrong song or what? Mindblowingly boring. You know how you can sit in a lecture hall and listen as your professor extols the virtues of Brechtian methodology and Theatre of the Absurd and he gets to the bit about alienating your audience through the use of lights and visual aids and your ass and left foot simultaneously falls asleep? DanS singing Simply Red? Meet my ass and left foot.

DreadyDan, go ahead, diss the New Romantics and watch me lose any slight hint of love I might have had left for you. From that point on, I watched/listened DreadyDan sing with my jaw firmly locked in the position known as Unimpressed TallulahBelle. I unhinged it long enough to note that he was slurring his words a bit and that he looked gormless. DreadyDan, you are without gorm. Also, does he have his own personal sweatwrangler, because boyfriend sweats a LOT on stage. He still sounds great, but he is coasting. He’s Robin Williams in The World According to Garp cruising down the hill in the dark to his house in his car with the engine and the lights off. Anyone who knows that film knows that ends . . . badly for Robin. I see DreadyDan as the kickass lead singer of an awesome band, but not as a solo artist.

I don’t know what Anne did to Mark, but it must be the same thing Chanel did to Marcia last year. She is the best again for the second week in a row and she gets nothing from Mark. Yes, she was totally aiming for a touchdown, yes the song was tailor made for it, as was her performance and yes, she was distraught that she didn’t get one. Not that I applaud that kind of neediness, nor am I a fan of the vocal gymnastics that was peppered throughout her performance, but based on previous Idols who got away with that kind of shit – yes, Guy, Paulini, Ricki-Lee, I AM looking at you – she obviously thinks that’s the best way to get to him. Just sing well Anne and stop giving a crap what Holden thinks. And don’t let what happened next upset you too much. Leave that up to me . . .
. . .

WHAT THE FUCK. Touchdown? TOUCHDOWN? Are you shitting me? THAT got a touchdown? What did I miss? Two weeks ago Holden wouldn’t have touched this guy with a bargepole and now he gets a touchdown? For THAT? DeadtomeLee’s schtick won’t sell CD’s, not in this country and definitely NOT to the Idol core audience of 12to15yo girls who think DtmL is the shit. That arrangement was derivative and dull, it was repetitive and choppy and it did your vocals no favour at all, you sounded breathy and angry. Basically, I think DtmL somehow found out that either Holden is a nazi war criminal living under an assumed name or he gave his mother a ‘carnation’ about nine months before DtmL was born . . . if you know what I mean and I think you do. Papa, can you hear me?? Surely only the threat of a trial or twenty odd years of lapsed child support could be the reason behind such a marked turnaround. The worst part of all of this is that I turned to Fosse whilst DtmL’s pre-singing pimpage was on and said that ‘I bet he gets a touchdown tonight’. Damn my precognitive abilities and its sporadic nature.
So, to recap. Mark Holden? Shut up.

Bottom three : most likely to be FIHJ, DanSpillane and frighteningly possibly Kate.
Top three? Who cares. I know I don’t.

Oh, and much love to John Foreman. Much much love. I have been waiting three seasons for someone to Flock of Seagull’s their hair on 80’s night. Thank you John, you kept me from putting my foot through the tv screen. My tv screen thanks you, my foot thanks you, my visa bill thanks you.