Tonight’s American Idol audition rounds took place in Jacksonville, Florida, which for reasons I still can’t quite figure out prompted Idol producers to run archival footage of judge Randy Jackson rocking out to “Don’t Stop Believin’” with Journey back in the day. But who cares what the reason was? The spectacle of Randy with a flat-top Cameo haircut, Dynasty shoulderpads, and pegged-legged skinny (or not-so-skinny) jeans made for some truly awesome TV. (I bet if someone walked into Randy’s audition room now wearing a getup like that, he wouldn’t say, “You’re through to Hollywood, dawg!”) So…can we please see more old, incriminating judge footage on future shows? Please? At least a couple reruns of those terrible Paula Abdul videos co-starring MC Skat Cat and Keanu Reeves?
So anyway, after a touching tribute to Randy that mostly featured a lot of Jacksonvillians barking like dawgs, Randy and the other three judges settled into their folding chairs and the auditions proceeded. And in walked all those wannabes who just couldn’t stop believin’, all wanting to take that journey to Hollywood. (Sorry, I could never resist a Journey pun.)
First up was Guarini-haired Joshua Ulloa, saying he liked being compared to AmIdol season 1 runner-up Justin Guarini because “it helps people to remember me.” (Really, now? Who remembers Justin Guarini? That poor schmuck has been reduced to competing on CMT’s Gone Country 3 alongside Tara Conner and Richard Grieco.) Anyway, Joshua’s audition actually reminded me more of some sort of laboratory hybrid of Blake Lewis and Taylor Hicks–the former because he did some odd beatboxing, the latter because he fake-played a harmonica. (Meaning he did that Michael Winslow-from Police Academy shtick and mimicked a harmonica sound with his mushmouth.) Simon Cowell, however, didn’t compare Joshua to Justin, Blake, or Taylor, but to Inspector Gadget because he “had all sorts of things coming out of his face.” Joshua’s singing, however–when not upstaged by his mimicry and/or gimmickry–was actually decent. And he made it through, even with a semi-reluctant “yes” from Simon.
Sharon Wilbur was next, toting along Sasha, her fluffy pet shitzu. But would her voice be shitzu? Would her dog be just another distracting gimmick use to deflect attention from lackluster vocals (like, say, a bikini or a pack of cute kids)? Actually, Sharon turned out to be an a’ight singer as well, with a nicely raspy tone (although she got a little bleaty in parts). Sasha was bored, yawning throughout Sharon’s performance while he sat on Simon’s cold lap, but everyone else seemed to be into it–Paula Abdul and Kara DioGuardi so much that they started fake-smooching each other (again, for reasons I still can’t quite figure out). Guess rumors about Paula and Kara not getting along have been greatly exaggerated!
So yeah…two people walked into the audition room who I’d assumed would suck, and they didn’t. Phew. Good start to the show. But would it last?
In a word…NO. In two words? Heck no!
Overconfident teen Keniswa (spell?) came in next and according to Simon got “progressively worse” as her song went on and on and on. And on. Her mom Paula, who’d done her best (or should I say worst?) to foster high self-esteem in her daughter, really did Keniswa a disservice by ever telling her she could sing. Some lies parents tell children are kind and well-meaning–like saying Santa Claus exists or it’s the Tooth Fairy who leaves dollar bills under the pillow. But telling a kid she can sing–when she sounds like Keniswa–is just plain cruel. But then again, maybe Keniswa’s mom was just lying to herself: She seemed utterly convinced of her daughter’s exceptional talent, and nothing (not even being marched into the audition room and told to her face by all four judges that Keniswa’s audition was terrible) could change her mind.
Sometimes mother does not know best.
Miss Florida Latina USA, aka Julissa Veloz, sang next, and I expected her to be worse than Keniswa. She had a grating stoner laugh, plus she was wearing her crown and sash which made me instantly dislike her. (Pageant chicks always suck when they go on reality shows and start doing their Stepford shtick, whether it’s on American Idol or America’s Next Top Model or So You Think you Can Dance. In fact, they even kinda/sorta suck on TLC’s Miss America: Countdown To The Crown.) But Julissa was actually okay. Not fantastic, mind you, but I agreed with Simon: She was better than expected. True, she “didn’t make the song sound nice” (the song Simon was referring to was Whitney Houston’s “I Have Nothing”), but her ’s performance inspired Paula Abdul to march off the set to engage in some weird, possibly pill-induced impromptu skit with Julissa (again, for reasons I still can’t quite figure out), and after all that, Julissa got through.
“This is a bizarre show,” observed Randy. True dat.
Darin Darnell came in later and blubbered like Josiah Leming on a bad day (although his crying was nothing compared to subsequent contestant Michael Perrelli–more on him later). Then Naomi Sykes walked in and had the gall to compare herself to Mariah Carey. “So you’re a talented loony?” retorted Simon, (Touché, Simon, touché.)
Then Naomi chose to butter up the panel not with bikinis or shitzus but by bringing along her BFF Samantha, who just happened to have a massive crush on Randy. Yep, more Jacksonville love for Jackson.
What proceeded was a gushy, giddy Samantha plopping down on Randy’s lap, which in turn inspired Paula to sit on Simon’s lap, and then Ryan Seacrest even sat on Kara’s lap. (Unsurprisingly, Ryan seemed very uncomfortable and unenthusiastic to have such close body contact with a member of the female species–but he played along for the cameras.)
Naomi then attempted to serenade this group of snugglers with Minnie Ripperton’s highly challenging “Lovin’ You.” But no one was lovin’ it. “Everyone tells me I’m great,” Naomi insisted–again, too many people have been lying to this girl, and it’s mean–plus she insisted she’d successfully hit that big dog-whistle note at the song’s conclusion. I assure you, she had not.
Simon was convinced Naomi’s entire audition was a huge joke and accused Naomi of such–the same mistake Kara made with a contestant last week, with the same result: Tears.
Oops. Simon didn’t seem to feel as guilty about his faux pas as Kara did about hers last week, though, and he refrained from participating in the sympathetic group hug at the end of the session.
Oh well. At least Samantha had her dream come true, and got to meet her idol, Randy.
Plucky, naturally talented teen Jasmine Murray then sailed through with little drama–she didn’t need it, because she had a fab voice, period–and then it was back to the bad auditions. Beardy intellectual/Unabomber-type George Ramirez sang next, looking like of like one of those hirsute indie-rock dudes from Built To Spill or Iron & Wine or Grandaddy (or the Killers during their Sam’s Town phase). No more beards, people! Unless we’re talking about ZZ Top here, beards and popular music do not mix. All musicians are better beardless, in my opinion. However, I don’t know if George the self-described “physics freak” would have benefitted from a close shave, judging by his terrible performance.
If anything, maybe his facial hair was a blessing because it slightly muffled his rendition of Katrina & The Waves’ “Walking On Sunshine,” a normally happy ditty that he managed to turn into the saddest dirge of all time. I’ve seriously heard happier singalongs at funerals, or at Staind concerts. Unshockingly, George walked–and not on sunshine–straight out the door without a golden ticket. That was one hairy audition.
Anne Marie Boskovich auditioned next, and although I thought she looked just fine as-is, and sounded fine too (singing snippets of her idol Kara DioGuardi’s songs), the judges had some cockamamie idea in their heads that she needed some sort of insta-makeover. “Come back as another person,” Simon told her puzzlingly. Yeah, sure, easy-peasy.
Um…huh? Why did they do that? Lots of good singers enter the audition room looking waaaaay worse than Anne Marie, but they make it through and then the Idol stylists get their hands on them and turn them into stylish superstars. (Perfect example: Kimberley Locke.)
So why was Anne Marie told she needed to immediately go “look for her inner superstar” and come back a few hours later looking spiffier? My guess is simply because it built up a little fake suspense during what was a decidedly unsuspenseful episode tonight. So anyway, Anne Marie returned looking almost exactly the same–her hair was slightly mussed, she’d dabbled on some extra makeup, and she was wearing different shoes. The judges fawned as if this was a transformation straight off the finale of The Swan and gave her a golden ticket, which I’m sure they were going to do all along.
Lame! And staged! Lamely staged!
Season 7 reject T.K. Hash then gave it another go, singing “Imagine”–his version was not as good as John Lennon’s, obviously, but better than David Archuleta’s in my not-so-humble opinion–and this time he made the cut.
Good for him for not giving up, as this was one repeat auditioner with actual talent.
Next, and last, was the aforementioned Michael Perrelli. A sensitive singer-songwriter type with an apparent fondness for the Plain White T’s, he freaked out when he learned he would be unable to audition while playing his beloved acoustic guitar. I didn’t quite understand why this wasn’t allowed–after all, last season Fox made such a big deal about how contestants would be permitted to play instruments on the show from now on. So why not let them audition with them, too? But for some reason–and I’m sure the reason was the melodrama that would ensue and make for good television–Michael was told to set his guitar aside.
As a result, he flailed and floundered during his attempt at Third Eye Blind’s “Jumper” (he seemed ready to jump off a ledge himself). The sad situation only worsened when the judges advised him he’d be better off with a guitar (um, duh) and Simon said, “You would struggle within the parameters of this competition.” Simon was actually unnecessarily mean to this seemingly nice kid–and made him cry! Boo! Michael may not have been the most talented hopeful in Jacksonville, but he wasn’t terrible and more importantly, he wasn’t was of those snotty brats with a big attitude and a big shoulder-chip. So such nastiness was totally undeserved. However, Michael did deserve a subsequent scolding from Ryan Seacrest when, in his agitated post-audition state, he was prickly to his well-meaning mother. (Michael’s mom tried to comfort him and he barked, “Don’t touch me!”)
And so the epsiode, as usual, ended with a sob story. But this was one sob story that had no rising-fron-ashes happy ending. Oh well, at least Michael got his guitar back. And maybe all his crying will get him some attention, too. Hey, it worked for Josiah Leming! Then again, that kid was super-talented. Waterworks just aren’t enough sometimes.
So Jacksonville wasn’t as fruitful an audition stop as some other cities have been this season; the town’s residents didn’t exactly do namesake judge Randy Jackson proud, here. But tomorrow night Idol moves on the Salt Lake City, home to last season’s David Archuleta–and, rumor has it, a few actual Osmonds who will audition. Will they be a little bit country and a little bit rock ‘n’ roll, or just a whole lot of awful? Come back tomorrow to find out.
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