American Idol: Brooke White and Restartgate

Don’t forget the Jabbawockeez are America’s Best Dance Crew, dawg!

Dear Judges, Andrew Lloyd Webber wants his masks back. This is American Idol goes to Musical Theater Camp, where anything goes!So I totally got a random Facebook friend request from a guy who looks like he’s been prepping for Andrew Lloyd Webber week, and that made me even more excited for/scared about this episode:

CATMAN! Dada dada dada dada CATMAN!

Who will rise to the challenge of ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER WEEK?! Or, as I like to call it, “songs I was forced to play piano at weddings while growing up” week. I definitely played a Phantom Medley with “All I Ask of You” and “Think of Me” in 1996 in Texas at a wedding that did not serve any alcohol. I remember thinking that was weird, because my childhood was otherwise filled with Vietnamese weddings that involved alcoholic uncles who took full advantage of the open bars and puked all their booze up ’cause they lacked that all-important liver enzyme. On the short list of people-who-don’t-have-big-musical-voices: Brooke and Jason Castro. It’s going to be a rough night.

Also, Brooke White is totally the bitchy girl you’d play Crazy Eights, Monopoly Junior, or, heaven forbid, my favorite game, Mousetrap, with while growing up. Against your will, of course, because she’d invite herself over or arrange a playdate with you through her mom and your mom. She’s the girl who repeatedly insists that she wasn’t cheating by shaking the dice to her liking when you weren’t looking or peeking at your cards. And then defensively huffs that she would never cheat (or drink or smoke or watch an R-rated movie) and go on to explain why she kept her pile of Monopoly money so close to the banker’s stash. So that it wouldn’t get lonely being separate from all its brothers and sisters, duh! Jesus loves winners! Results not excuses!

David Duchovny is in the audience, if my nearsighted eyes haven’t completely failed me. No sign of the “Lip Licker” sign fangirl, though.

It’s Earth Day! Idol is doing its part by using green power (i.e. CFLs powered by the cries of distressed whales, instead of their normal vampire powersucking spotlights powered by the egos of producers)…only at the finale. In just four weeks. I can’t wait. How about they go green by not filming a finale and just publishing the results online? Tonight, it’s time to take half our contestants out of their comfort zones and see who pulls excuses out of their asses.

They’ve expanded the band section, and Ricky is as flamboyantly enthusiastic as ever. Looks like they hired all the kids who played the violins in that Meryl Streep movie, Music of the Heart. Poor musicians, don’t you wish you were in the studio recording the music for another Disney/Pixar flick?

Mah wand, I founds it!

The judges look surprisingly tasteful and sober tonight, Randy upgrading his usual man-cardigan for a button down and Paula trading in her QVC/Bedazzled accessories for a basic shift dress, and Simon in his classic black pullover. Hmm. Paula looking kempt and sober means that she’s blitzkrieged out of her mind. Surprisingly understated and subtle, this trio, perhaps to protest the excesses of musical theater and Andrew Lloyd Webber productions. I don’t even see Randy peddling those pink beaded bracelets from past weeks. I think they’re now subtly green.

Commence Webber Week! Daunting tasks! Deciphering a proper British accent!
Can you imagine if ALW’s daughter went on Rock the Cradle? Obviously “Musicals” is a huge genre, and they had to narrow it down to ALW’s songs, but it’s be fun if they could’ve performed stuff from something super old-timey like Kiss Me Kate or Meet Me in St. Louis. Clang, clang, clang goes the trolley!

Lord Webber was a precocious tyke who began composing at 9. At 17, he was working with his soulmate, Tim Rice. Montage of Starlight Express, Tell Me On a Sunday, and other works flash across the screen. Words, words, words.

All I know is that Webber is gonna lay down the law and make the song work for each contestant. All his musicals are story-driven, and he is totally determined not to have the kids screw up this week the way they did with the Beatles. Half of them don’t know who he is, and I cannot wait until Jason Castro realizes that Cats literally features actors dressed up as cats. Can you imagine watching that musical while smoking some potent stuff? Lord Webber goes so far as to call himself their servant, which I hope is a huge joke (you don’t need to encourage Brooke) and he’s hopefully being ironic/facetious.

“Woman, you smell like week-old tuna salad in a sweaty jockstrap.”

Where is Lord Webber’s throne? Why is he sitting among the unwashed commoners and orange-skinned tramps in the awful fleshmob that is the Idol audience? Randy proclaims that tonight is the toughest night of the season. Paula mumbles that some will stand out, something harder for others, mumble. “That’s cleared it up!” snarks Simon.

Syesha “Baby Tears” Mercado is up first with “One Rock and Roll Too Many.” If there’s one thing I learned from playing in the pit for a bunch of musicals, it’s that many of the actors went on to have semi-successful careers doing commercials for things like oatmeal breakfast bars and those sexy singles local chat hotlines. So this week should be right up her alley in its emphasis on theatricality and stage presence. It’s much easier for her to sing well when she’s playing a character, because she manages to infuse her performance with the personality the judges always complain she lacks. In the preview video, Lord Webber has Syesha run through her song twice, once as an emotionless cylon that’s had a lobotomy, and once with “musical theater freak” in mind. It is, how you say it, super sassy and a bit overdone, with a bajillion headshakes.

My eyebrow is permanently arched until you change all your household’s lightbulbs to CFLs.

However, Lord Webber thinks Syesha has the potential to bring the house down, be ver funny and witty (what?!), and change the course of the show with her performance. I’m guessing that it’ll involve her perching on a piano.

Whaddaya know. Syesha starts out standing on the piano, back to the audience, shaking her moneymaker and twirling her hand. I think she started half a beat off or so (was the mic even by her mouth? Am I the only one that thought her intro sounded off? Lemme know), but settles back into the groove and recovers way faster than say, Brooke would’ve. If she could’ve performed any other song from any other musical, I bet she would’ve picked “All That Jazz” from Chicago or “Big Spender” from Sweet Charity. Her choreography looks left over from that musical, down to her form-fitting red shift and the finger waves in her hair. She looks fantastic. She’s definitely got better stage presence, energy, and body language than 75% of the remaining kids, and that can only help her during musical week. Points for interactive choreography and shimmying with the band’s conductor.

Sassy head bobs! Upbeat, energetic tempo, big notes – all the makings of an (off) Broadway star. Way to save yourself, Syesha, for this week.

If I do well, I won’t have to hang out with Steve Urkel, right, Papa Winslow?

This song is in Syesha’s comfort zone, and comes at the perfect time, since she’s been relegated to the assumed bottom 3 for a few weeks now. I definitely thought she’d automatically be sent home this week (unless Brooke got kicked to the curb first). It’s no “God Bless the USA” but it’s just what she needed, and she gets to perform a song that lets her belt out a melody, dance, and show that she belongs in the ensemble of a Culver City Rent revival (boo, it’s leaving Broadway soon), not American Idol. Can America figure out that that’s where Syesha ultimately belongs? Vocally, she’s not stellar, but she hits some of the notes (a bit flat) and was fun to watch. Her voice isn’t the best, but she’s got pipes compared to Brooke, and damn, does she use them. I am actually entertained, and I am both shocked and appalled since this show was becoming the equivalent of my daily hunt for belly button lint.

Randy, stunned that Syesha finally displayed some of her fun video interview personality, beams, and says that she’s in her element tonight, that it’s her best performance to date. Also, she could be a Big Broadway Star, which translates into “You will not be winning Idol.” Paula doesn’t even try speaking English anymore (“I didn’t even know that, it’s like WOW” interjects Randy. Is he talking about Syesha or the alarming state of our economy?). I don’t know, but Paula loves it and slurs sparklesglitteryuniqueyay. Simon proclaims it super sexy, all kind of Michelle Pfeiffer-like on the piano, and agrees it’s one of her strongest performances so far. He also marvels at the scads of personality Syesha’s managed to pull out of nowhere. All our contestants are going barefoot these days, btw. It’s a sign of going green, giving up shoes.

A tribute to Kristy Lee’s shirts and Brooke’s crazyface.

Jason Castro is still the world’s worst public speaker. He makes Stephen Hawking sound as eloquent and proper as Professor Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady. Stephen Hawking has a voice synthesizer hooked up to the infrared blink switch clipped on to his eyeglasses, mind you. It’s a lot of MRURURURUR and URRRGGGHHHH-ing from this boy. Helen Keller’s his speech therapist or something.

In our mentoring session, Lord Webber realizes that he is in fact face to face with the visual inspiration behind Predator, who also happens to be the only person alive who didn’t realize “Memory” is sung by a cat. Oh, I’m sorry, Lord Webber, I mean an “ancient glamourpuss.” Castro admits he is nervous as this is a kind of a popular song – did you forget you sang “Over the Rainbow” last week, buddy, or did you think that was a song popularized by a really large, jolly Hawaiian musician with a ukelele and not Judy Garland? Webber cannot believe that Castro is not mildly retarded.

I immediately regret this decision. And my marriage to Sarah Brightman.

Lord Webber’s comments are intriguing. After sniffing Castro’s dreads, Webber says he won’t be at all surprised if Castro completely disregards all of his advice and performs the song better than expected.

Castro missed a prime opportunity to dress as a cat tonight, and I am uber-disappointed. His hair could’ve totally been teased to match Grizabella’s!

Lots of volumizing mousse and an outfit from the neighborhood bag lady.

Instead, he’s perched on the stool of contemplation in an all-white suit (I am having visions of Tom Wolfe ) and is trying to recapture the magic of his “Hallelujah” performance. It’s not going to be that easy. The boy needs to sing with his eyes open, because he’s no Andrea Bocelli. Oh, maybe he’s pretending to be a lolcat singing this song. That must be it. He also seems to drop the end of words like “dawning” so we only get “dawn.” I don’t know what’s going on. There’s a nice key change in there, but the song is pretty static despite Castro’s valiant efforts to make emotional-looking faces that mostly look constipated. The low notes are tough for him to stick. It was moving…my bowels. BUT! It’s better than whatever Brooke is going to produce. I feel it in my bones.

“At least we’re not playing ‘Bittersweet Symphony.’”

Will Simon rip Castro a new one? Or just excuse him gently because he knows this isn’t Castro’s genre at all, ’cause stage makeup, jazz hands and sequins are the opposite of dreads, peace signs, and bongs. I really wish Castro had made a special appearance on the recent SNL skit featuring a Jack Johnson parody where he hosted Dave Matthews and John Mayer on “The Mellow Show.” He’d fit right in.

Randy deems it a trainwreck vocally, but he likes the dreads. Hm, not even an “it was a’ight, dawg, I ain’t mad at you.” Ouch. Randy can only see him as Jack Johnson 2.0 and “Memory” just has too much melody for Castro. Paula says that Castro is a postmodern male feminist empowering women everywhere because people are used to this song being sung by a female power balladeer and he is inverting the heteronormative assumptions attached to this song. But mostly, it’s that he’s beautiful and it’s beautiful with his influence. Wise choice, she says. “He’s a beautiful guy,” says Randy. You mean, Predator here?

Castro pays homage to Fetus, for extra points.

Simon says: “The reality is as that it came across as a kid forced to sing a song by his mom and dad at a wedding. It was miserable throughout.” Eesh. I don’t think Castro looked as constipated/crazy as Brooke does every week, but I can see Simon’s point. It’s no “Hallelujah” and it’s no “Over the Rainbow” so I’m pretty sure Castro’s headed to the Bottom 3, if there is even such a concept this week. Or perhaps the contestants will have to do some crazy scavenger hunt or treasure fandango to figure out who’s being eliminated!

Do you vote for the best after judging all the performances and holding them to the same standard or do you vote to save someone who may rock in a future week? This is America, so you think about your chance to vote, but since you can’t do it online, you don’t. Afterwards, you lie and say you totally voted for Obama when asked.

After a little iTunes vignette where a crazy senior citizen pantomimes everything Seacrest says , we learn that Brooke, sharpening her narcissistic earnestness, is singing “You Must Love Me” from Evita. She starts singing and emanating the crazy vibes with her killa eyes, when Lord Webber awesomely stops her to say that he doesn’t believe she has a clue what she’s singing about. Ding ding ding ding, give the man another Tony!

Lord Webber sharply informs Brooke that it’s a song about imminent death, meant to parallel her imminent failure during this performance coming up, not a plea to America (“She’s dying! She knows it! You must love me, please!”). Unable to just take advice/constructive criticism, Brooke clarifies that she had a lightbulb Eureka! moment and that she gets it completely now.

OMG, this is how people snap their fingers! Now I can work on whistling!

Lord Webber is holding her hand on top of the piano, and I have a sinking feeling he’s trolling for Wifey #4. Is it bad that I’ve been asking the universe to turn on Brooke White for the past month? And that I totally have an invisible Brooke White voodoo doll that has an invisible piano and invisible guitar stapled to her, with the microphone stuck in her head and “Twirl, bitch, twirl” scrawled on her tummy with a red Sharpie? Oh sorry, TMI.

What ensues is nothing short of awesome and worthy of “Now That’s What I Call Entertainment! Volume 428.”

After the opening lines “Where do we go from here?” Brooke abruptly stops, looks flustered, and says “I’m sorry” to the band as if she can’t go on. CUT! The music stops and it is mega-awkward. Perhaps she’s actually dying on the inside like Evita, or has finally realized that she’s made a huge mistake, and beauty school is truly her calling.

Side effects may include abdominal bleeding, nausea, buggy eyes, gas with oily discharge, and hand-wringing among your few fans.

She cues the band to start over, and they do – which is totally something you cannot and should not be allowed to do in this season at all. Tonya Harding’s skate lace came “untied” during her Olympic routine in ’92, and the judges didn’t let her start from the beginning! I think she performed to the theme song from Jurassic Park. Seriously, WTF! I have never seen someone do that on Idol before (maybe I missed a few episodes of Seasons 3-5, but still) but this is a travesty and low point considering this isn’t Brooke’s first do-over.

This gaffe is simply unforgivable, confirming everything I’ve said about her inability to deliver a solid, consistent, entertaining performance (she shakes more than my grandpa did with Parkinson’s) and she’s restarted a song before – on the piano, during Birth Year Song Week. If America doesn’t vote her off soon/now, I am going on a hunger strike. I will skip next week’s Taco Tuesday, when Del Taco sells three for a buck and nine cents.

Randy really doesn’t care for this performance, and you can tell by the way he talks about whether or not she really means what she’s singing about. Paula purses her lips and is silent for five seconds. If she doesn’t compliment you on your outfit, you definitely boned your performance. In one of her most lucid, rational evaluations ever, Paula informs Brooke that you must never start and stop a song. This is the biggest show and the biggest platform for such singing, Paula says, and you should be strong enough/great enough to pick up the pieces. That being said, Paula says that she’s glad Brooke didn’t overreact and had emotional strength. Exsqueeze me? She said “I’m sorry” and had the band pause completely. You know what takes more emotional strength? Getting your period while wearing white capris. Right as you have to get up to give a presentation to your entire English class. And having no sweatshirt to tie around your waist. Or something super-hypothetical like that. Totally happened to a friend of mine.

Simon knows that anything he says will make Brooke burst into tears a la Ramiele and leak worse than the corroded pipes in a sorority house, so he merely comments that her voice was straining because she was so tense and trying to remember the lyrics, causing the song to become uncomfortable. He says that Brooke will be very disappointed when she watches this performance. Thank you, Simon.

Brooke White and Restartgate 2008

Seacrest smells a golden opportunity to ask Brooke what she was feeling and what exactly happened on stage. Brain aneurism? Did she have a stroke? Suddenly remembered her Gmail password was “LetItBePuppiesSunshine4evar” in the middle of the song?

“I lost the lyric,” Brooke says. Okay. That was more upfront and direct than I expected. BUT THEN – “First time I’ve done that on this show,” she adds. UM, NO. It’s not your first do-over, Brookie. Any shred of respect/sympathy her previous statement could’ve provoked in me is out the window, along with my self-respect, because I can’t even mute her whiny butt as she tries to reassure the audience it’s never happened before. (That’s what she said! – Michael Scott) Damn you, live television and janky regifted DVD player with no DVR capabilities, why must I suffer through Brooke White and Restartgate in realtime?

The eyes are the window to the soul.

She had to restart on “Every Breath You Take.” Or did you conveniently repress that traumatic memory, Brooke? Okay, so maybe you didn’t appear to lose the lyric so much as fail to start singing in the right key and lose all the notes (you played the same chords, though, so it wasn’t like a piano mistake), but a do-over’s a do-over. And it’s doubly memorable since this isn’t the first time. Fetus, who clearly “lost the lyric” hardcore a few weeks back, as he warbled and mumbled through “Another Day in Paradise,” didn’t ask the band to stop and restart. Because Fetus is a seasoned pro and doesn’t have the nerve to start over. For someone who claims to have learned piano from an early age, she sure didn’t remember the most important rule – Never bring attention to your fuckups, just keep moving and get through it. In jazz, the rule is to fuck up twice on purpose so people think you did it intentionally. Also, she released a CD a few years back and dedicated it to the Church of LDS, so she’s no spring chicken.

The prosecution rests its case in the People vs. Brooke White. If the lyrics don’t fit, you simply gotta quit [this show]! Also, did you know that “You Must Love Me” won an Academy Award in ’96, preceded by Alan Menken’s “The Colors of the Wind” from Pocahontas and followed by James Horner’s hit for Celine Dion, “My Heart Will Go On”? Both are songs that Brooke would conceivably try to sing and fail at.

Fetus, looking oh so precious in a tie, is being interviewed by Seacrest as his sisters come up and run up to the stage, thanks to Seacrest’s prompting. There’s 6 of them. Fetus’ dad had some mighty sperm, though some of the Mini-Archuletas don’t look at all related. Some of them are cute and perky, while others look like they had a few too many juice boxes and fruit snacks. Polygamy much? Too soon?

What’s your name again?

Fetus doesn’t even seem to recognize all the girls, so maybe they are just his part-time siblings. Andrew Lloyd Webber cannot imagine a boy singing “Think of Me” (the part of Christine Daae is obviously sung by a female soprano) but Fetus is so soft-spoken I think he’s going to be just fine. HEH.

Ah, it’s like we never left the local city talent show. I sang this song as a fourth grader and totally got criticized for picking a song that was too “mature” for a nine-year-old by the judges. Alas. Fetus is basically the same age. Webber is astonished, and never thought he could hear this song like that. He calls it rare and says bravo to Fetus. Also, he has two pieces of advice for our Fetus: 1. Open your eyes. 2. Seriously, open your eyes, I can’t watch someone with them closed all the time in rapture.

And you should really stop licking those lips, do you know how much lipgloss you ingest per year?

Fetus sings “Angels” way before Idol while dressed as a Mormon missionary (and no, this is not Rick Astley)

Fetus in his earlier zygote phase, being pimped out to sing Happy Birthday to some kid’s mom

I would not be surprised if his vocal chord paralysis was the result of him being pimped out to weddings, funerals, school assemblies and inner beauty pageants by his creepy baseball cap-wearing father, and simply wearing his voice out due to overuse and a lack of proper care. From all the home videos I’ve seen posted on YouTube, it’s clear that he’s never been able just to be a regular kid growing up, but has always been the kid who has to sing on cue whenever prompted or forced into the spotlight. Yeesh, he was even on the Jenny Jones show performing “And I am Telling You.” Again, two words for Fetus: Legal Emancipation.

Speaking of his ridiculous fanbase, some of his more militant fans have started posting on every single Fetus-related YouTube video with the following voting mandate:

“ATTENTION: To All David Archuleta Fans and Who loves David and All Parents.

F I N A L – 6 !

BE PRO-ACTIVE VOTES DO COUNT !

1. Please do not forget to vote Tomorrow – Tuesday.
2. The more you vote for David A. the better for him.
3. Don’t be complacent or just leave it to chances even though he is SAFE.
( Remember: Michael Johns )
4. We need to make this WONDERFUL and TALENTED KID WIN to make his dream come true.

Thanks for your love and support.”

I’m not shitting you. The best part is that Michael Johns is turned into a cautionary tale. And if you swap out “David” and put in “Jesus” the whole thing makes a lot of sense. He’s like his own Make-A-Wish Machine. Have you heard of the conspiracy theories floating around about how Fetus’ dad owns a warehouse and can totally stock it with phone centers and modems to call in and vote for his own son repeatedly to rig the contest? Hee.

The original arrangement of “Think of Me” is pretty spare and slow, with lots of vibrato in the soprano voicing. It’s honestly heartbreaking when done right. Fetus’ version, however, is uniquely his – poppy, modern, but reduced to a slightly ballad. The song’s emotional power is somehow diminished, probably because it’s a bouncy, less contemplative arrangement that steals Jason Castro’s signature guitar riffs and congos. It feels almost tropical.

Fetus struggles vocally on the low notes, as he is wont to do, and his eyes honestly look a little dead. I totally understand why he closes his eyes when he sings – it’s to avoid looking at his father, and also allows him to imagine a world with no parents, no singing engagements, where he can dream of being a slacker and kissing girls is not a mortal sin. However, his little riffs and ooo’s draw applause from the crowd, and are quite inventive. Doobie doobie doo.

One of my nicknames is “Lettuce Boy.” Srsly.

Randy gets his panties in a twist and yells “This boy’s the one to beat, it was da bomb!” He mentions that it’s what the show’s about, if you can sing, you can sing anything – was that a diss to Lord Webber and the musical genre? Oooh. Paula proclaims it absolutely perfect, and that he took a risk for turning into a pop ballad. Simon, ever my voice of reason, says it was pleasant but one of his weakest performances, and not one that you’re going to remember. Forgettable, but definitely safe through to next week. Is Fetus ever going to land in the Bottom? It would only be helpful for him to land in the Bottom 3/2/whatever they decide to call it, since it would only spur his supporters on next week.

And I am telling you, Simon is not having it.

Before Carly even sings a note, I am going to go out on a limb and say that even if she does well and sort of knocks it out of the park, she’s still not winning this competition. Why? Well, she has nothing left to surprise us with. We know what Carly’s about (Ireland, bartending, tats, keeping house) and how she’s going to sing a song (big notes, riffs, runs, trills, with gusto, blackbirds). There’s absolutely nothing she can do to change a song a la David Cook or even amp up the energy/personality a la Syesha that will get users running to their phones to vote for her.

During the mentoring sesh, Carly sings the first two measure of “All I Ask of You” (a perennial wedding favorite) before Lord Webber cuts her off and flat out stops her from picking it for this week. I love that he’s actually a constructive criticism kind of mentor who doesn’t spare the rod and spoil the singer. Can you imagine the contestants from the search for the next Pussycat Doll or Girlicious huffing out after Webber’s laid the smackdown?

Lord Webber says: “She has to sing ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’! That’s the song for a girl with a great big chest voice! She’s a big, big girl!”Somehow, he manages to make her sound like a tatted up lumberjack. Which she kind of is, compared to Ramiele and Precious Moments Fetus. Something tells me this song swap is critical to Carly’s not getting kicked off this week. Or at least it’s not hammering the final nail in the coffin of her career just yet. The arrangement of “Jesus Christ Superstar” is bluesy/soul/funkadelic, upbeat and rock, and Carly for once doesn’t look super miserable. Though I was hoping Fetus would take this song, I suppose it would sound blasphemous to more hardcore, stringent Christians who think rock n’ roll and illegally downloading mp3s is the Devil’s work.

Only hussies and satanists use red background colors!

She’s wearing a somewhat conservative dress like this one from J.Crew, because she’s probably realized her half sleeve of tats isn’t garnering her votes in the Midwest. It’s too late, though. Something about this whole performance reminds me of The Emperor’s New Groove and donkeys with bowl cuts. Singing donkeys. She doesn’t hit the highest notes but she does soul-esque harmonies on the chorus instead while the backup singers hit the melody, and maintains her vocal power. She kind of rushes the middle and gets a little off track from the band. Carly starts to screech/oversing.. But whatevs, it’s way better than watching her sing a ballad. Good job, Webber. It was the right song, other than a Queen-inflected take on “Phantom of the Opera” which could’ve been her other option.

Tattoo Face! He’s alive and well! And looks like Steve-O plus Travis Barker plus a Burning Man freakshow rolled into one. But I am sure he is a very nice person with charming manners. Another reason why Carly will not be inducted into the Idol Hall of Fame – he just doesn’t work as arm candy and the hubby of a public figure with tons of endorsements to promote.

White House Press Correspondents’ Dinner, here we come!

Randy plays Mr. Ambivalent and says he doesn’t know if it’s her best, but it was definitely good. Way to straddle the fence of mediocrity. It’s just like what he said about Castro – he likes the outfit more than the singing. Paula loves that it was unexpected (really? Someone had to take that song) and was afraid it might out of Carly’s range but loved what Carly did with the chorus. Yawn. Simon says it was shouty in the middle, but one of his favorite performances of the night. Along with Syesha?

Question: Is American Idol struggling because it’s “too intellectual” compared to the eye candy that is Dancing With the Stars? Have Americans gotten so lazy that they no longer handle words and melodies coming out of mouths and just want to see Adam Carolla ride a unicycle and petite dancers nearly lose their tops? Discuss.

Carly busts out a teal “Simon loves me (this week) tee, which would be kind of funny if it wasn’t printed in fucking Comic Sans. Comic Sans is my visual, earthly nemesis, and I would rather be blind than live in a world that only had Comic Sans as the only available font. I would take Wing Dings and a world of utter chaos and accident prone drivers over Comic Sans-lettered street signs. Have you ever looked closely at it, when it’s all blown up on store signage? Or cluttering up a menu for an overpriced breakfast café? It’s grotesque.

Comic Sans: Optical abuse, or a bunch of retarded sperm curled up together?

Also, Carly, as an Irish hipster, you should know better. Maybe you’re being super meta-ironic and secretly actually hate Comic Sans, but Helvetica or Futura – look into them. You just lost like a bajillion street cred points.

David Cook is singing the ever-iconic “Music of the Night.” How many people do you think have it set as their ringtone? As many as the ones with the Nokia default factory setting or Fergie’s “Glamorous” ya think? I personally always liked banging out “The Phantom of the Opera” on church organs and my piano around Halloween time, but I guess “Music of the Night” is more nuanced and subtle.

David reveals that he grew up doing musical theater. Dude, don’t say anything that can be held against you and your sexual orientation, Mr. Rocker. Your hair is cribbed from Nate of Gossip Girl but that doesn’t stop Chace Crawford from being linked to JC Chasez. Mentor Webber waxes on about how this is the most sensual, sexy song he has ever written, and how David will need to pretend like he’s singing to the most beautiful girl in the world (Webber disclaimer: “You have to pretend I am a gorgeous 17 year old girl from the chorus line! Fondle me!”). And even David Cook was creeped out by having to stare longingly into Lord Webber’s eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, you could be a part-time model.”

Surprisingly, David Cook foregoes the talk box, synthesizers, and a guitar tonight. He performs it simply and straightforward, like he’s been listening to the original Broadway London cast recording (played at least twice a day from start to finish from 1991-1994 in the T.Vo childhood home) and inhaled crumpets and tea and a mid-century accent. He sounds like Madonna when she’s trying to be British. t. Maybe he really is a good musician who understands when not to touch an arrangement!

He belts out the high note on “Be” instead of resorting to falsetto, and I feel a bit of hope inside. The dramatic silence after the high note works amazingly. I am enjoying this simple, heartfelt delivery, without a smack of pretension that usually comes with every performance of his. I’d say it was actually more successful/believable than Fetus’ “Think of Me” if we’re whip ‘em out and going to compare them. For one thing, David Cook doesn’t look dead in the eyes, and he seems to have more autonomy over his own life than little Fetus does.

I liked it, but here’s the thing that made me pause. Something about the subtle lighting and star-like effects on the ceiling made me think that I was watching a PBS Pledge Drive, the kind they air with like Pavarotti/Andrea Bocelli/Patti LuPone/The Nutcracker in between celebs and philanthropists asking viewers to call in and pledge money. And get like a complimentary tote bag for the lowest amount, and a DVD of the night’s performances for like $80. Am I totally cracked out? I mean, they always use blue lighting for Great Performances!

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Randy goes nuts, even more so than he did for Fetus. In fact, he calls David’s vocal amazing, and that he can sing anything – an “unbelievable, molten hawt lava bomb tonight!” Paula doesn’t need any persuasion, he’s well-rounded with a beautiful [instrument] and fantastic – thanks for disregarding the English language, Paula! Seriously, Paula’s stops and starts are like playing Mad Libs: Substance-Dependent Style.

Simon realizes pumping only hot air up Cook’s ass will make him more pompous next week and cautions that he made the most of the song, but didn’t reveal the gritty side that Simon likes. Simon makes a good point in that if you were tuning in the first time ever and saw David Cook perform, this wouldn’t be necessarily representative of him as an artist at all. So I concur on that much. But, if you see his whole portfolio, the straight, simple performance makes the rock out with your cock out/ Peter Frampton stuff sound that much more innovative/meaningful instead of repetitively gimmicky. Well played.

The Phantom of the Opera would totally drop a chandelier on Brooke. Two, if he had a spare lying around. If there’s one person I want to send home, it’s Brooke. If there was a God, Brooke would go home. But I’m thinking that they’ll keep her around because she keeps it interesting, and is the token singer/songwriter girl. But did she annoy enough people to note vote for her?! Syesha did well this week, but is that enough to keep her safe? Would it be enough to get people voting, even though Syesha’s also a token too?

My personal bottom 2 are Castro (in 5th place) and Brooke (dead last) – but I kind of doubt they’ll kick Brooke off. Carly may likely get dragged down to 4th because she’s just so damn predictable every week, is technically foreign, ultimately forgettable, and isn’t really going to evolve as a singer anytime soon. So I’d put Carly in 4th. Fetus. And I’d rather have Syesha than Carly. They might even just put the bottom 2 against a wall covered with balloons and chuck knives at them. Whoever screams first goes home.

Also, I wanted to share one of my fave Sesame Street videos with you, “Put Down the Duckie” – why can’t next week’s theme be Songs from Sesame Street?

What do you guys and gals think of the Top 6 this week? Chime in, and tell me your favorite song from a musical. Any musical. Even High School Musical, if that’s how you roll.