Well, in the interest of me not losing my mind, I'm not going to analyze every single audition that flitters across the screen (but by all means, feel free to discuss them in the comments section). Instead, I'll only talk about the ones that I found memorable.

The first noteworthy auditioner of the day was Marlows Davis. He came from the young, effeminate, and deluded camp -- sort of like last season's alleged Toni Braxton cousin. Anyway, Marlows was confident he would blow away the judges. So much so that he wasn't even nervous. In fact, he felt like he was about to sing for fans who knew and embraced his smooth vocal stylings. "Sorry Usher. You have to step aside. Marlows is in town," he said. Sadly for Marlows, he was about to realize that singing in front of the nation was a whole heck of a lot harder than crooning off some random notes for Ma and Pa. Well, he stepped in front of the judges and had a refreshing idea: sing Alicia Keys! Like many before him, Marlows belted out his rendition of "Falling," and in an ever-so-kind move, he spared us the aggravation of listening to all those annoying "notes." Instead, he seemed to pick three or four random tones and ran with it.

Not running with him, however, were the judges who easily rejected him from the competition. "Please, I came such a long way," Marlows pleaded.

"Where you from?" Randy asked.

"Denver, Colorado," Marlows responded. You guys don't understand. He had to travel like three blocks. That's hard when you're talentless. Still, he tried to sell himself.

"You guys didn't like the range of my voice or nothing?" he asked. Range? I've seen dot-matrix printers with more range than you. (snap!)

Fear not, Usher. Your reign atop breathy R&B remains.

Next came a girl who could best be described as the poster child for pro-lobotomy advocacy groups. Her name was Tiffany, and she came bounding into our lives full of bouncy, please-shoot-me energy. "I-I-I-I-I'm here for the party! And I ain't leavin' 'till they throw me out!" she squawked as the horrified panel of judges looked on. For the love of all things audible, please silence this girl.

After a brief montage of crappy singers (including one brave girl who managed to butcher Paula's very own butcher-proof classic, "Straight Up"), we finally had our first glimpse of talent with a girl named Lisa Tucker. She was only sixteen, but she had pipes like a pre-cracked out Whitney Houston. Okay, maybe not that good, but hey, she was an up and coming star according to Variety Magazine, or as they put it, "Singing Star's Skein Should Net Boffo Box Office Unless Par and Uni Ankle Shingle."

Anyway, Lisa endeavored to sing Whitney's classic dirge, "One Moment of Time," and happily erased any lingering memories we had of Tiffany or Marlows. Simon went so far as to say she was the best sixteen year-old they'd ever have audition. Wow. She really was great. Of course, once these kids are all 'rounded up in Hollywood, chances are I'll probably hate this girl and her Mickey Mouse Club trappings (along with her Variety-certified sense of entitlement). Eh, why wait? Let's start the hatred now.

Next was a girl who was the proud inventor of "The Banana." You see, The Banana is a dance move that started out as The Worm and then went dreadfully wrong. Dance pioneer Amanda Berg explained that she came up with her signature move when attempting The Worm. One thing led to another, and Amanda realized that she had created a WHOLE NEW MOVE! Granted, I don't know how one messes up the Worm so badly as to become The Banana (which is sort of like an inverted, backwards somersault), but if there's anyone who could do it, it would be Amanda. I also don't know why of all the things to name this dance, Amanda settled on "The Banana." Maybe the Donut or the Ring Ding or the Idiot. But Banana?

Anyway, if Amanda could sing halfway as good as she could innovate, then surely we'd be in for a treat. Sure enough, she attacked LeAnn Rimes's already insipid song "Can't Fight the Moonlight" with dulcet tones of flatness. I personally enjoyed her tendency to sway back and forth with every note, sort of giving her entire body the look of a Felix the Cat clock. And no, she did not make it to Hollywood.

What is it about this guy that makes you just want to punch him?

Constantine in three years.

After seeing a montage of rockers who were possibly suffering from hemorrhoids, hernias, or both, we then met Chris, a friendly cowboy with a shaved head and a goatee of promise. Normally, I wouldn't care about such a Johnny-Sing-Lately, but my heartstrings were tugged unabashedly by his wife, who tearfully explained how Chris had given up all the freedom of single life to marry her and take on her two kids. "I just felt like he could have done so much if he was single, but he had a family to take care of, and I just want his dream to come true because he's like given me and my kids so much," she said. Man, this was more moving than those old phone commercials from the '80s.

Posted by B-side on January 20, 2006 6:23 AM