American Idol
With spectacular sets, pimped up music, and lighting alone that is worth the cost of admission, American Idol has topped American television ratings for the past 8 years. It is a star machine, producing Oscar, Grammy, and CMA Entertainer of the Year award winners. Are you an American Idol fan? I am. In an era of recession, shrinking 401(k)’s, and “big brother” government pounding at the door, it is a treat to sit back and watch talented young people try to grab the brass ring. If you haven’t been watching, this year’s group of singers is probably the best group presented in the past several years. The last couple of seasons were a tad dicey to the point where I was tuning the show out. Not one of them was particularly outstanding. But this year…there are several who are on the road to show biz success whether they win the competition or not.
At the end of the day, this is basically an old fashioned variety show. There is a certain comfort level for those of us who grew up watching The Ted Mack Original Amateur Hour and Ed Sullivan. Long gone are the days of Carol Burnett or Andy Williams, so we go with what we can get. And it’s not too bad. Couple American Idol with Dancing with the Stars, you have a solid early week line up of boffo entertainment. AND IT’S NOT NEWS!!!! Beats the hell out of O’Reilly!
What I really like about American Idol is that each of the contestants is required to sing various styles of music. Each week has a theme, and the styles can range from movie tunes to Motown to Country to Rock to Jazz. These guys and gals are put through their paces thus preventing one trick wonders.
This year, in particular, has left me actually clapping at the end of some of the performances. Last night was the final 7. The leaders of the pack include Allison Iraheta, a 16 year old female rocker who sounds like a cross between Tina Turner and Janice Joplin. Danny Gokey is a gravelly voiced church organist and choir director with a voice like a Michael MacDonald and Joe Cocker hybrid. Kris Allen is the clean cut, baby faced dude who plays the piano and hits it out of the park almost every week. His rendition of Ain’t No Sunshine When You’re Gone is the gold standard. He is the safe choice for the non-edgy set.
The front runner this year, however, is so far above the rest of the pack it almost isn’t a competition. Adam Lambert is a chameleon. He presents himself as a weird, late 20 something rocker, but can change his look and style to suit anything he is given to sing. At his rocking best, he is as good as Mick Jagger. He can out Elvis Elvis. His version of Play That Funky Music, White Boy was better than any version I’m familiar with, including the original. And his acoustic stuff is as good as I have ever heard. His version of Tracks of My Tears and Mad Summer had me and my wife giving him a standing O in the family room. As is the case every year, there are some graphic pictures of him circulating around the internet, but with a talent like this, who cares. This guy is Vegas bound.
The judges’ schtick is getting old. Paula Abdul is flakey. Randy Jackson’s “dog” rappin’ style of talking is dated and doesn’t cut it when he is so obviously middle aged. What are all of those hand motions? I like to use hand motions, too. I have several. Perhaps you would like to see them. I don’t know about that new babe that they added this year, and don’t care. She’s pretty, but what’s the point? And it’s time for Simon Cowell to move on. Enough. He has made a lot of money. It’s time for him to go and enjoy it…far, far, away.
I know that it’s not cool to watch American Idol. But then again, nobody ever accused me of being cool. So…on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, especially if I need an Obama break, it’s time to break out the popcorn, settle in, and watch some really good singing. It could be worse. I could be watching The Osbornes.
At the end of the day, this is basically an old fashioned variety show. There is a certain comfort level for those of us who grew up watching The Ted Mack Original Amateur Hour and Ed Sullivan. Long gone are the days of Carol Burnett or Andy Williams, so we go with what we can get. And it’s not too bad. Couple American Idol with Dancing with the Stars, you have a solid early week line up of boffo entertainment. AND IT’S NOT NEWS!!!! Beats the hell out of O’Reilly!
What I really like about American Idol is that each of the contestants is required to sing various styles of music. Each week has a theme, and the styles can range from movie tunes to Motown to Country to Rock to Jazz. These guys and gals are put through their paces thus preventing one trick wonders.
This year, in particular, has left me actually clapping at the end of some of the performances. Last night was the final 7. The leaders of the pack include Allison Iraheta, a 16 year old female rocker who sounds like a cross between Tina Turner and Janice Joplin. Danny Gokey is a gravelly voiced church organist and choir director with a voice like a Michael MacDonald and Joe Cocker hybrid. Kris Allen is the clean cut, baby faced dude who plays the piano and hits it out of the park almost every week. His rendition of Ain’t No Sunshine When You’re Gone is the gold standard. He is the safe choice for the non-edgy set.
The front runner this year, however, is so far above the rest of the pack it almost isn’t a competition. Adam Lambert is a chameleon. He presents himself as a weird, late 20 something rocker, but can change his look and style to suit anything he is given to sing. At his rocking best, he is as good as Mick Jagger. He can out Elvis Elvis. His version of Play That Funky Music, White Boy was better than any version I’m familiar with, including the original. And his acoustic stuff is as good as I have ever heard. His version of Tracks of My Tears and Mad Summer had me and my wife giving him a standing O in the family room. As is the case every year, there are some graphic pictures of him circulating around the internet, but with a talent like this, who cares. This guy is Vegas bound.
The judges’ schtick is getting old. Paula Abdul is flakey. Randy Jackson’s “dog” rappin’ style of talking is dated and doesn’t cut it when he is so obviously middle aged. What are all of those hand motions? I like to use hand motions, too. I have several. Perhaps you would like to see them. I don’t know about that new babe that they added this year, and don’t care. She’s pretty, but what’s the point? And it’s time for Simon Cowell to move on. Enough. He has made a lot of money. It’s time for him to go and enjoy it…far, far, away.
I know that it’s not cool to watch American Idol. But then again, nobody ever accused me of being cool. So…on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, especially if I need an Obama break, it’s time to break out the popcorn, settle in, and watch some really good singing. It could be worse. I could be watching The Osbornes.
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