Since the show decided to be total pussies last week and put the American public’s thirst for blood behind African children’s thirst for, well, water, we still have six contestants to deal with this week. Luckily, two of them are going home tomorrow.
According to Ryan, donations from last week raised “almost 70 million dollars.” Because, you know, more of you voted for American Idol contestants than voted in the last presidential election. But that’s cool. Why concern yourselves with the fate of our nation when the fate of Jordin Sparks is in your hands?
Tonight is Bon Jovi night. Remember Bon Jovi, Jordin? No, no you don’t. Remember when Slippery When Wet was released? No, you don’t, because you weren’t going to be born for over three more years. In other news, I have officially started menopause.
Bon Jovi thinks they should “make the songs your own.” Thank God someone finally told them that. It’s really the key piece of advice they’ve been missing.
Phil kicks us off with “Blaze of Glory.” Remember Young Guns, Jordin? No, no you don’t, because you weren’t going to be born for another year. Related: I have three wrinkles today. Phil claims he’s “practiced this song for fifteen years,” which should make it all the more enjoyable when he forgets the words. Please, God? You owe me for the wrinkles. My little cousin made Phil’s jacket in Cub Scouts. Unfortunately, his vocals are solid. This kid definitely has a country career in his future. He walks past Randy, who puts out a fist. Phil pumps it with his own. I laugh out loud. Rock on, kiddos. “I gotta take care of this here fist. Groupies tonight, ya know?” He didn’t forget the words. When I step on that scale tomorrow morning, God, there better be at least three or four pounds magically missing. Randy’s all like, “I actually recorded that song with Jon Bon Jovi,” because, you know, he’s the only one here with transferable industry acumen, but Paula and Simon respond by snoring loudly. He thought Phil did awesome. Paula has either been crying all day or hasn’t slept in weeks. Her eyes look strange, but not in a loaded sort of way. Not that it stops her from being totally incoherent, but she’s generally positive, I think. Simon thought it lacked authenticity, which is true, and he thinks Phil will go home, which is also probably true. Home to his country career.
Jordin Sparks is singing “Living on a Prayer,” which was recorded — just so you know — three years before her birth. And it’s also one of my favorite songs ever. Don’t fuck this up, Jordin. Ryan poses by Gina Glocksen, who’s in the audience, because she is going to drain every last second out of these fifteen minutes, to talk about the Idol tour. HA! Jordin walks into the room with Bon Jovi, and the first thing she says? “Oh my gosh my Mom is going to flip out.” Bon Jovi’s all like “Fuck you.” She then proceeds to tell the camera, “My Mom, like, grew up on Bon Jovi.” Bon Jovi’s all like, “I hope you totally fuck this up, you goddamn fetus.”
Jordin is tragically out of her element here, in some sort of black and gold-chained ensemble that might have been cool twenty years (and pounds) ago, but she just looks kind of awkward. When she gets the rare opportunity to belt, she does fine, but she’s not sure how to handle the rest of it. The whole “singing notes quietly and rapidly” thing doesn’t really work so hot for her. She’s just not a rocker, which is fine, but it makes this kind of hard to watch. Randy says what I said verbatim. Paula’s like, “I give you credit because you went for it, even knowing it was a little bit out of your range,” which is a great way of saying, “Hey, props on the poor song choice. Killer.” Simon mentions that her look is absurd, and calls the singing “verging on shrieking.”
LaKisha. She’s still here? Huh. Ryan and LaKisha have the stupidest conversation ever. Okay, LaKisha earns back all the points she lost for the stupid conversation by starting her film clip with this: “I’ve heard of Bon Jovi, and I’ve seen him on Oprah.” Jesus. She continues, “But, I have never ever listened to his music.” Singing “This Ain’t a Love Song,” which is actually a great song for her. Bon Jovi spends quite awhile clarifying for her that, title be damned, this is, in fact, a love song. Glad we got that straight. LaKisha looks nice, in denim pants and a shirt that does about as much slimming as is physically possible here. Of course, she rocks out vocally. She’s doing good little hand gestures. You know, she’s a killer singer, but she’s just not that interesting to watch. She brings it at the end, though. Damn, she’s totally fierce at the end. Rock on, LK. Randy said she “blew that out (of) the box.” Paula is retarded but positive. Simon’s like, “I actually could kiss you after that.” Ryan brings LaKisha down to kiss Simon, and he actually does lay a little peck on her lips. Unfortunately this has used up all their time, and Simon manages to say, “I love the fact that…” before the music cuts him off. Simon eventually gets his time back, and says that she absolutely nailed it while attempting to wipe her lip gloss off of his lips. You can’t script this stuff.
Blake Lewis. “You Give Love a Bad Name.” He’s doing an “adventurous rendition.” I’m excited. I hope he beat-boxes. Blake is growing on me, like, in a sex way. He started off way too boyish for me, but he’s growing up. I’d probably do him. Oh, Bon Jovi basically tells us he’s going to beat box. Hooray! I hope this rocks. Somewhere between when the rehearsal footage was filmed and this performance, Blake took the blonde highlights out of his hair and darkened it all by a few shades. Thank. God. Fuck. He is so hot. So. Hot. And this rendition rocks. He looks awesome, he looks grown up. Oooh, here comes the beat boxing!!!! And the dancing!!!! He plays off the drummer, who’s standing next to him. He pulls up the mic stand and leans into the audience, Bon Jovi style. This is awesome. I want to have sex with Blake Lewis. Like, a lot. Dude, this fucking RULES. It’s the dark hair. It sets off his eyes and I think it’s given him a new level of confidence. He looks like a goddamn rock star up there. Blake, I’m totally your groupie. Call me. The audience is going crazy. There are stupid girls in the audience cheering for my man. Dumb sluts. Fake tits. Blake is mine, bitches. Randy tries to compliment him over the screaming. Paula says it was “amazing, this was your night.” Simon says it was “absolutely the right thing to do,” and thinks he’ll stick around next week. And now, for the first time in my life, I am rewinding my TiVo to rewatch a singer not because I want to make sure I mentioned each and every flaw, but because I just want to watch it again. Blake for President! Of my bedroom!
Chris Richardson has to follow that. Where’s your Lauren Conrad now, bitch. Ha, Ryan’s like, “This is Ryan Seacrest here with Justin Timberlake.” Get it? Because there’s no resemblance? Yeah. “Wanted Dead or Alive.” The boys are showing up today — then again, they have a clear advantage in terms of the song options. But Chris is rocking this out. He looks good in jeans, a green tee and a black jacket (with a questionable white belt). He does the Bon Jovi mic-leaning thing, too. Huh. This was a good performance. This show is interesting because the tables can turn so quickly as the contestants essentially get a crash course in stardom; it’s fascinating to watch how they grow into it. A few weeks ago, the boys were essentially a non-factor on this show. Tonight, the girls can’t touch ‘em. Blake and Chris, especially, seem to have embraced the rock star persona, and they fit it well. Chris cracks a smile at the end. He knows he killed this. Randy liked it. Paula says he did his thing. Simon’s not nice, but he’s wrong. Chris’ll be around next week.
Now — praise Jesus — we get to see Melinda attempt rock. Singing “Have a Nice Day,” which I’ve never heard. Bon Jovi thinks she brings “soul” to the song. Melinda starts out by head-banging with the guitarist on stage, and I have this sinking feeling that this is actually going to work. It was probably very smart of her to choose a song that no one’s heard of, because she can really Melinda-ize it. She does a great job of bring a tough edge to this song. Vocally this is incredible. I can totally picture this song on the radio. In fact, if I were Bon Jovi, I’d re-record this song with her on vocals and try it again. And so, sadly, Melinda has totally pulled off rock night. Randy thought it was great. Paula mutters. Simon thought it was like a young Tina Turner — that’s a good call — and thought she was vocally in a different league than anyone else.
And now …
GEORGE W. BUSH IS ON MY TELEVISION.
What the fuck?
Did my cat change the channel again?
No, no. It’s just The President of the United States of America, thanking the viewers of American Idol for the donations they made to Idol Gives Back. The segment is pre-taped, but no less cringe-worthy than if it were live. Dubya’s all like, “Say, Laura, do you think I’ll ever sing something?” She responds, “I don’t know, darling, they’ve already seen you dance.” Who writes this stuff? BRING BACK BEN STEIN!
Ryan’s beard has grown 3 inches since taping began, I swear. He shows the clips again.
Who goes home? It’s a tough call, and I forget who I didn’t like last week. Jordin was easily the worst tonight, and Blake was probably the best, but Melinda gave him a run for his money. It’s tough. I say Phil and LaKisha.