Thursday, May 24, 2007
This Is Our Cow
Randy would like everyone to know, in case they weren't aware, that's SHE'S ONLY SEVENTEEN, Y'ALL!
American Idol wrapped up its sixth exhausting season last night, and Jordin took the big prize. It had basically the same level of suspense as watching a two year old eat a bowl of Cheerios. There were a few charming and cute moments, but it was also messy, and a couple of people got wet gooey crap flung at them, but eventually everything was consumed, one way or another.
The first hour of the show was passable, what with Ryan getting dry humped -- by a woman -- in front of millions. And Smokey Robinson swooped in at the last minute to take this year's "too much bad plastic surgery" crown. But here's what else happened: Yelly Clarkson returned and she was in fine Yelly form, Tony Bennett basked in the love, Gladys Knight sang, Blake beat boxed it up with Doug E. Fresh, they gave out the obligatory "we humiliated this person the most" awards, the African children's choir sang to remind us about how generously wonderful it was for Idol to take a night to save the world, Jordin did a duet with Ruben, and, best, Boomie returned!
You know, just in case it wasn't obvious enough that this entire season was geared from the start as an atonement round for the Oscar winner not winning the first time through.
The second hour is when things started cooking though, because we entered the "Jesus Take the Money" section of the program where they allow that crass old fuck Clive Davis onstage to brag about how much money the albums from the show make. They do, wisely, never mention the advertising revenue from the show, instead having Ryan ad lib disgustingly truthful lines such as "this is a low budget show." Low budget and high grossing don't really work together, so they don't flaunt those numbers.
I'll give them credit, they did carefully prepare Clive this year and must have rehearsed him using "albums" instead of "units." Because although he obviously stumbled and struggled to pull the word "album" out, he did make sure that "units" was banished from his vocabulary. So he briefly apologized for Taylor Hicks's poor sales while simultaneously sticking it to him because his next single could still help him sell. Same for McPhee and Fantasia. But -- DAUGHTRY! You see, DAUGHTRY is what it's all about, because his shitty, talentless, insult-to-rock album is selling LOTS. No word about quality of the music, just how much it sells.
He took a brief moment to take a pointed jab at Yelly and state how her album "Breakaway" was successful because other people wrote it. (In case you don't know, Clarkson just won a huge battle against Davis, who wanted to shelve her new CD, because it was written by Yelly and Clive says that "young women shouldn't write their own songs.") And then he gave us the formula for how to manufacture regurgitated crap like Carrie Underwood's album and gave her a special award because she's now sold over 6 million uni... ah, albums. Carrie came out, wearing something she clearly rummaged from the "bad, discarded ideas" dumpster from Project Runway, and thanked everyone at Idol profusely.
The redeeming and entertaining portion of this segment? Was when they cut to Simon's reaction to it all. Even for him, the scowl and look of disgust on his face was harsh.
Also in this second hour, we got to see the true Idol star of the year perform. His name in lights, wind machine blowing around his hair, pulsing lights, and little girls crying. It was the return of Sanjaya!
And he brought Joe Perry with him! Even the freight train that is Idol can't derail Joe's cool. Though, he did pull out his old trick of subversively sounding shitty on his solo. Remember when Aerosmith remixed with Run DMC? Joe did it, alright. He'll take the cash. But he sure as fuck isn't going to play WELL.
Oh yeah, speaking of strange partnerships, Green Day came and sang John Lennon's "Working Class Hero." I suppose I could bust on Billy Joe, but, fucking, why? It's not like he ever was a paragon of integrity. Besides, I like 'em. Fast pop-punk. I still listen to "Dookie." Make fun. I don't care. I've admitted I love Joey Fatone, how much pride do you think I have left?
Anyhow, the Perry-Malakar thing was all good, and I don't blame Joe for kinda-sorta tanking it a little. Why should he be expected to blister out a solo when the winner can't even sing in tune? Anyone care to make a prediction about Sanjaya? Do you think he's the Daughtry of this season? I think I heard he already has his own reality show. It'll be funny if he sustains celebrity. If he overshadows Jordin, Idol season 8 will be forced to trot out six effete, teenage Indians with long hair to try and jump on the gravy train and apologize for their mocking. I really hope it happens.
Speaking of overshadowed winners, Taylor came back! Boyfriend's been laying off the ribs lately cause he was all trimmed down and tuned up in his bad-ass paisley jacket. Toxic Twin Joe Perry stayed backstage, laughing his ass off, thinking how the collective audience had to have been more wasted than he ever was (though still not as wasted as Paula on a typical Tuesday) to have given him the crown. Fuck 'em! I loved having Taylor back!
And Taylor, God love him, he knew the score, and when he was dancing around, coming down the stage into the audience past the judges table, he took those steps really carefully, wary of Simon sticking out a leg to trip him.
Then there was a strange little medley of Beatles tunes. Can someone help me out? Who is that needs the cash? Did Paul McCartney finally allow the rights to help fund his divorce from the one-legged, dancing golddigger? Or did Michael Jackson give the permission for the songbook to bankroll his legal fees and attempt to purchase Jackson family memorabilia?
All the past Idol winners who were there came out and sang a little song, and fuck me all over again, cause I liked Taylor's! Check out this cap of the finale though. It's all fuzzy because the camera was doing a fast pan, but you can see cool Joe grinning like an idiot.
Do you know why he's smiling? He's not smiling. He's laughing. He's laughing because he put in the effort to do all the drugs to like, really get "Lucy in the Sky," man, and now it's being carelessly flung around the pop stage like some cleaned-up, cutesy charm. It's all so ridiculous, how can you not love it?
But that wasn't the best. Oh no. They didn't have Prince. They had Bette Midler. HA HA HA HA! She was their Big Star for the night. And, maybe it's something on the stage, because she couldn't sing in tune either. I hear she'll be taking over for Celine at Caesars Palace. Niiice. They better give out two free drinks with the ticket just like they used to at Siegfried & Roy shows. But you gotta love Bette, because she gave us a couple classic moments as she butchered her trademark song, "Wind Beneath My Wings."
First, Randy helped Paula fly. Not like he could get her as high as what was in her Coke cup, but it was a gesture. But check out Ryan in this picture. See his expression? You know it's been a long season when Ryan lets his guard down and allows the genuine weariness to seep through.
But better, as she finished, we saw Jerry Springer in the audience, all fucking misty.
It's unclear at the time this article went to press whether Jerry was truly emotionally moved by Bette's performance, or, if, since unleashing his "soft" side on DWTS he's simply become a pussy.
So that brought us to the end of the program, with nothing left to do but finally announce that YES, Jordin DID win! Blake spoke to Jordin just before the name was read, and it was reported that he told her that if in some unlikely circumstance he won, he wanted her to sing the song as a duet with him. But he didn't need to worry. He lost. The reaction:
What do you get from that picture? I get Jordin thinking, "I'm the Idol, troll!" And I get Blake swooning with relief, thinking, "I don't ever have to sing that bitch-ass song again!"
Reactions all around were totally classy. Not a Peisha McPhee in sight. Damn. And yes, they even trotted out The Hoff again, who gave his approval.
He, unlike Springer, kept his shit together and didn't cry this year.
So that was it. Fireworks went off, and Jordin sang her amazingly horrible, self-congratulatory coronation song, "This Is My Now." Can you believe it? A nationwide contest to try to find a better song and they STILL end up picking a saptastic, cheezy, off-putting piece of shit like that song? Of course you can believe it. It's what makes Idol Idol.
Here's hoping you sell lots of uni...ah, albums, Jordin!