Snips and snails and puppy dogs tails.

Alright, everybody out of the pool. The judges have decided - they want a boy to win this year. How else to explain the blatant love in they received last night? Granted, the majority of the performances last night were pretty good, with one or two verging on awesome but (Joseph) there was at least one (Joseph) that was absolute (Jo) shite (seph). But I’m getting ahead of myself . . .

We begin the night with some swapsies – G is upstairs on the balcony doing the presenting and Jimmy is downstairs with last night’s contestants. So G gets the boys and Mathieson the girls. Was this decided via rock off? Thumb wars? Did G sink your Battleship, James? Or was it that they feared whichever young lass who gets through might - in a fit of excitement - hump G on national television, and that James is safe because he’s not as much with the pretty as Andrew? Imbeciles!! I would gladly make a fool of myself on national telly to smooch with Mathieson. I totally heart him and his bug eyed ways. It's just that Fosse called dibs on him and in the interests of housemate-y détente, I focus instead on G (who, lets face it, isn’t exactly a booby prize). Plus Fosse let me have Phil from The Amazing Race, three quarters of the cast of The West Wing and those delightful Jewish boys from Numb3rs. We are currently fighting over who owns George from Grey’s Anatomy though . . . this recap has now taken more time to get to the winners of the girls round than the show did. James lets us know that the two girls going through got 32% of the vote . . . each. So that leaves 36% split between the remaining four. Ouch. That doesn’t bode well for any of them getting a large public vote when they Wildcard. WA girl Reigan Derry is the first of our twosome through and she giggles a little hysterically, then to absolutely no-one’s surprise NT’s Jessica Mauboy is in – she is also giggly and takes the opp to hug Mathieson – see show, a lot of us do like our boys funny and adorably dorky. Proving my point, Mathieson tells her that ‘Australia liked the cut of your jib’. I fucking adore him.

Ricky Muscat is first up – they rehash the Jorge incident and I now think that Jorge may have been the best thing to happen to young Ricky, he’s just another pretty boy with a good RnB voice but he’s the guy who stood up to Jorge, it sticks in the memory – and he’s singing – don’t fall out of your chair – an RnB ballad So Sick. He elongates his vowels a little strangely and the start is slightly weak but he’s kicking it by the chorus. It strikes me that he looks like Anthony Callea and sings like Guy Sebastian – holy crap, he’s a SonyBMG wet dream. The judges just about froth at the mouth to tongue bathe him, they all absolutely love him, his song choice and his package. I accidentally looked at his package and now I feel dirty.

Tasmanian James Steele, saddled with the Single Dad moniker (is James the only single parent we have now?) is singing 3 Door Down’s Kryptonite – can you say ‘perfect song choice’? – he starts off singing quite low and builds up to a nice intensity. His levels are nice and he has some of those infamous ‘shades’ Marcia’s always talking about in his vocals. He lets out one final rebel yell – it’s the only shouty bit of his performance – at the end. It was just restrained enough to be intense but not cheesy or too RAWK or annoying. Mark thinks he’s committed and that he chose a really good song but will the public embrace him? Is he going to to Hollywood or Hobart? Marcia gives more of her patented Not Really Advice advice and comments that he’s no longer flying under the radar. How exactly do you fly under the radar on a show like this? Did he slip the editors a couple of hundred bucks not to show any of his footage? Marcia?? What? Kyle thinks it was all good but that he’s still holding back and Last Word Marcia chimes in that she doesn’t want to see negativity in his eyes again. Sigh. Mathieson then serenades him with a reworked Billy Joel classic and sings “Say goodbye to Hobart”. He can’t sing but god he is good tv. I doubt James will get through, I think he’ll have to reassess for the Wildcard round.

Chris ‘Bobby Brady’ Grafitti is tackling I Don’t Wanna Be, another song I am heartily ooooover. He sings well for two thirds of it but then he fucks up his breathing completely. He starts swallowing the ends of words to get to the next breath and almost loses a line completely as he gulps towards the end. It's called breathing technique dear, look into that before the Wildcard round, mmkay? The judges are arses and don’t so much as mention the fucking up. What? Mark blathers about how Chris was in and out of some mythical pocket. Marcia tells him to ignore Mark because she loved it – and we all know that Marcia’s comments are the ones to listen to, right? Kyle actually gives some sage advice from when he was just another viewer (oh the glory days of Dicko – sigh) and he’d listen to the first fifteen seconds and then everyone would start loudly critiquing and miss the rest of the performance. It's actually a pretty spot on summary of what happens in my house, but Kyle (who gains and loses my respect at least once each show) promptly proves his complete lack of any musicality by telling Chris his best bit was at the end. What? When he couldn’t breathe properly and massacred the last couple of lines? Shut up Kyle.

The show throws in a little sidebar of its own, focusing on a sign in the audience that reads : Mark Holden, You’re A Gankett. Like Mark and Marcia, I have no fucking clue what that means and am too busy admiring the fact that they used the correct contraction of ‘you’re’ instead of ‘your’, which drives me nuts. Mark promises to use the ‘totally goony’ word at some point and gets his moment when Jimmy also advises Chris that Mark’s opinion means nothing . . . because he’s a gankett. I hope that this segment ends soon . . .

Carrot Top’s up next – Bobby Flynn baby!! We didn’t see nearly enough of this guy at the Seymour Centre (or indeed any of him) and I’m chaffing at the bit to hear what he’s doing. When they announce that he’s singing The Church’s Under The Milky Way, I just about jump out of my chair in excitement. UTMW is one of my favourite Australian songs and I have been waiting for three seasons for someone to sing it at Australian Music night. Bobby starts singing and I almost give myself whiplash tilting my head – do I like this? What the hell is he doing? He circumnavigates the melody of the song like he’s competing in the America’s Cup. It's . . . strange. It's dischordant. And I love it. I’m weirdly all about this guy – he took the tune and sang above it and below it and behind it and occasionally in front. His tempo was out of whack with the band and I normally hate that shit but knowing that it was a deliberate choice for the arrangement impresses me greatly and his voice isn’t perfect, it wavered all over the place but FUCK he made me sit up and notice and everyone in the room stopped talking to listen in a kind of askance awe and fear. I want to pause the tv and not have to listen to the judges for a moment so I can take it all in. Marcia smiles that its great to have such an individual on the show and I flashback once again to Chanel receiving the same advice before Marcia psycho’d on her. Mark thinks he’s utterly unique and calls him a trippy crooner and Kyle calls him Sideshow Bobby – yeah, I’m not doing that, we had a Sideshow Bob last year and this guy is completely different, so no – and then says he hates that song. The fuck? Its one of the great Australian songs of all time Kyle, you fucktard, I loathe you, I bet you know all the fucking words to You’re The Fucking Voice, don’t you Kyle? Gah.

Joseph Gatehau is our second RnB performer of the night and his version of Let Me Love You by Mario is weak and doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near this part of the competition. His voice is cracking all over the place and yes, he’s young but fuck it so is Jessica and she stomped all over any nerves she might have been feeling last night. His eyes are pleading with the tv audience to love him, let him in, don’t send him home, but his voice is weak and tinny and he misses a lot more notes than he comes close to hitting and his falsetto cracks horribly. It’s a fairly gruesome trainwreck. Marcia who adores this boy to the point where she actually says ‘I love you Joseph’ puts it all down to nerves. Mark bypasses the ‘obvious pitch problems’ and says he doesn’t think Joseph will have any trouble getting the girls to love him (translation, vote for him) and Kyle tells him everyone’s talking about you man, everywhere I go, its Joseph this and his eyes that and what a cutie blahdey blah. (Tell that to Ngairre, Kyle - I remember everyone talking about her too). Mark takes the last word to tell him not to restrict himself to RnB. If Joseph gets through it will be entirely based on his Seymour Centre solo piece and his audition, not this performance.

Oy. Guy ‘Mutto’ Mutton is up next. Seriously, we’re advocating Mutto as his Idol name? Is that going to be on the CD cover? Do people really want to be texting Mutto to 19 10 10? It's Hotdogs all over again. Ugh. He’s chewing gum sitting next to G in the Contestants Waiting Pit and has ‘hope’ written on his hand. Again, oy. Look, we need a rocker in the comp (unless Amanda Street can Wildcard) so I’m willing to cut him a little slack. What is he singing? It's Swiftfoot’s Meant To Live. He crouches down at the foot of the stage and stares intensely into the camera – its very Pub Rock 101 – and there is some microphone feedback during the first chorus and he won’t freaking stand still for a minute. Dude, plant your feet!! He sings a little to Kyle and plays up to the front row of the audience who ‘whoohoo’ appreciatively – the front row always loves that kind of shit. The song requires a little more control than Guy has, the singing is a bit pitchy and flat but its okay. Not great, but okay. Mark loves his obvious experience and then kvetches about Guy’s bumpy bald noggin. Marcia ‘you did just fine’s him and laughs that he frightened the hell out of Kyle, an action I applaud wholeheartedly. Kyle loved the perf but hates his Fresh Prince of Bel Air inspired back of the head bowl cut. I hate to agree with Kyle but I reluctantly agree with Kyle . . .

More technical fuckups as the last look at the performers and their voting numbers leaves Ricky Muscat singing in silence for three quarters of his bit – they tack him on to the end and again, that could work in his favour. I want Bobby and Ricky to go through. Ricky was the better of the RnB singers tonight and the competition needs an RnB at this point. Bobby will compete with Irish in the Top 12 for votes which may do neither of them any good, but there it is. If Joseph doesn’t get through, the judges will Wildcard him before he leaves the building and they’ll toss a coin for James or Guy to represent the male rock.

TallulahBelle out.

PS – in the ever decreasing divide between myself and the Idol contestants, I found out on the weekend that my 21 year old cousin went to school with Reigan Derry and has in fact swapped spittle with the girl. I feel closer to her than ever . . .