Last night, the contestants paid homage to the disco era–with the exception of Kris, who sang ’80s pop, but that’s okay because he was awesome. Adam did not suck at all. Danny was a menace. Allison’s one note got played out. Lil still didn’t know what the fuck. Anoop drowned in a pool of indifference. Matt wore a hat. And Donna Summer made a nice dollar in royalties. Two of them are going home tonight. Neither of them is Donna Summer. This is American Idol. You know they can get you in East Hampton for wearing red shoes on a Thursday, and all that sort of thing. I don’t know whether you know that. I mean, do you know that?
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Last night, Quentin Tarantino brought his special brand of clammy yuck to the Idol competition, serving as mentor to the Top 7 as they performed “Music from the Movies.” Specifically, this meant leering at Allison, growling at Anoop, giving Gokey and Kris instructions they did not follow, telling Matt to speak his lyrics and advising Lil to give a shit. It’s probably for the best that Quentin stick with his day job. This is American Idol. Are you going to bring me my lemonade, or do I have to squeeze it from my hat?
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Last night, the Idols celebrated songs from the year they were born–except for Gokey, who sang a cover of a song from the year he was born. Apparently, it is Gokey’s mission in life to make me throw a brick at my television. Gokey is the new Lambert. And this is American Idol. Put the fucking lotion in the basket!
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Last night, the Idols got their iTunes on. There were bad song choices, bad performances, and most horrible of all, bad hair. Tonight, another soul gets booted with nothing to show for it but some snarky blog commentary from people like me, and the vague possibility of appearing on a future season of Celebrity Rehab. But that will be then. This will be now. And this is American Idol. I seen Beyoncé at Burger King, and she was eatin’. (She was what?) She was eatin’. (Oh.)
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