As part of my rehabilitation from the Democratic Party reality show, I have attempted to remove myself from all things Ferraro and dedicate myself to the Ferrari of television.
For next week’s show, the ten remaining contestants are finally able to leave the past behind- although this might be difficult for Michael Johns’s stylist- and choose songs from the iTunes Top 100.
Of course, the strange thing about the iTunes Top 100 is that it is heavily influenced by American Idol, which might make next Tuesday’s show a bizarre spectacle worthy of the Self-Reverend Jeremiah Wright.
Not only do previous winners Jordin Sparks and Carrie Underwood feature heavily in the list, but flying high is “Hallelujah”, a song that has already been exhumed in a shivering act of necrophilia by the smiley (but, oh, definitely not dopey) Jason Castro.
I am delighted therefore to reveal that David Cook, he of the perfectly coiffed disappearing hair and vocal resemblance to the infinitely inventive Daughtry, will be singing one of the two songs on the chart that are called “Rockstar”.
With typical courage, he has chosen the one currently streaming from the core of Hannah Montana’s tonsils.
The line that caught David’s imagination was “I might even be a Rock Star, if only you knew the real me.”
He believes that this song, on which he will be using his own guitar, but playing right-handed for degree of difficulty, will expand his repertoire and remind people of his modest ambitions.
Brooke White will be singing “Falling Slowly”, made famous by an Irish chap and his Czech now-girlfriend-but-then-untried-actress-from-the-local-hairdressers in a movie called ‘Once’.
Brooke’s choice came down to this song or “Through the Fire and Flames” by Dragon Force, as she felt this was the only other song that captured her lyrical zeitgeist.
However, she soon discovered that the Dragon Force song came from an album called “Inhuman Rampage” and she feels that this would have adversely affected her favorable image in Northern California and Oregon.
Jason Castro, the latest to have succumbed to the bewitching charms of Paula Abdul, has been involved in a major contretemps with the producers. He managed finally to persuade his mouth to gravitate from permasmile to temperpout when his request to sing Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” was thrown out on the grounds of both its explicit lyrics and its potential for legal action.
Jason has therefore decided to perform “Hey There Delilah” by the Plain White T’s, as it has a prominent acoustic guitar and a promising similarity of affect to Rohypnol, the date rape drug.
Carly Smithson came dangerously close to eviction this week by pretending to be a blackbird with a broken wing when we all know that she works in a bar and is therefore more likely to be seen with a broken beer bottle.
She has decided to open her heart, soul and tattooed arms to Middle America by singing “All-American Girl” by Carrie Underwood. How can this possibly go wrong? So she’s Irish. So is Bono and he strolls around the stage waving an American flag, looking like he’s just wandered off the set of Gangs of New York. Or, er, Sex and the City.
Kristy Lee Cook, she of the long legs and the butt of jokes, was clamoring to do a hoedown version of Fergie’s “Clumsy.” Until the producers pointed out that there were naughty words in the song (as there are in so many of the Top 100 of iTunesItOut).
So she has settled for a Charlie Daniels Band version of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Please don’t laugh. Kristy is both pretty and trying and she has handled criticism far better than would many. And I understand she is considering slipping in a self-played violin solo into the middle of a song so closely associated with people rising from the dead.
Michael Johns, who believes he can sing and has simply not managed to persuade the judges of this over the past weeks, has whittled his choice down to two songs.
One, the thankfully incomparable “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey, a ditty on which Randy Jackson plucked up his courage on the bass.
The other finalist song for Michael is called “Dance Like There’s No Tomorrow” by, um, Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul.
Yes, this modern classic really is in the iTunesItOut Top 100.
Michael says he chose these songs because of their message. He ended up selecting the latter, as he feels that he has a better chance by covering two judges rather than one. Yes, covering.
Chikezie, who, in my opinion truly is the only star in this desolate firmament, has chosen “Crank That (Soulja Boy)” by Soulja Boy Tell Em. Why? Because he can and because it is the one of the only hiphop songs in the top 100 that has permissible lyrics. He will be performing this song in the style of Elton John and Kiki Dee.
If he survives this week, I am told that next week he will attempt a rock opera.
Ramiele will be singing “Paralyzer” by Finger Eleven. The judges keep calling her boring. And she wants to show she has a sense of humor. And this rock shit seems to work for David Cook, so why can’t it work for her? Philippino Rock might be the next big thing.
Syesha Mercado, who suffers from an anonymity not seen since the directors of the Blair Witch Project, has decided to go for broke, or, perhaps, Brokeback and sing “Cleaning This Gun (Come On In, Boy)” by Rodney Atkins.
She believes the lyrics will bring her together with voters in the South, who, she imagines, spend most of every day cleaning their guns and asking boys to come on in.
Which leaves us with the preemptive favorite David Archuleta. Perhaps I am alone in being unable to listen fully to his voice because I am too busy counting how often he licks his lips. This is more than an endearing tick. I am seriously concerned that some svengali is keeping him deliberately dehydrated in order to achieve a sense of haunted desperation in his voice and on his face.
His choice of song merely serves to confirm my trepidation. He has eschewed Lil’ Wayne’s evocative “Luxury Tax” and chosen “Picture to Burn” by Taylor Swift.
Apparently, David is keen to prove some country credentials. He has also fallen in love with this line from the song:
“I hate that stupid pickup truck you never let me drive…”
I cannot possibly avow why these words are so meaningful to the Young Pretender. I refuse to believe that there are tensions between him and his musician father.
But I do know he lives in Utah and that Utah has a lot of mountains to climb.
The Pond thanks mteson for his fertile gaze