Let's all just get our sniggering out of the way right now, for tonight's show's theme is number 1s.
First thing tonight, most of the male idols pull out a gameshow host jog up onto the stage when introduced. Takes me back to the good old days when entertainment = Tony Barber.
Panning across the ‘crowd’ tonight, I think there may have been some ‘creative sign making’ taught at Sunday School today with some kiddies in the crowd holding up a cardboard and glitter glue creation saying:
“Deano – chosen by God, chosen by me!”
If, as believed by Whitney Yooston, children are our future, I’m ending it all now.
This week we see the obligatory montage of the idols taking “how to dance like a boy-band member” lessons, led by a couple of suitably faggy dance coaches.
Does that mean an end to the idols acting out their lyrics? An end to Courtney Murphy’s brother’s constipation stance (you know, bending slightly at the knees, squinting and holding out one hand for help)? Dear God!
Klancie with a K is the first to learn how to move like a Young Talent Time reject. With moves like that she’ll be ready for the stage at Westfields across the country in no time.
A friend and I had a discussion recently – which is worse, a national tour of Workers’ Clubs, or a national tour of Westfields during school holidays?
We couldn’t decide, but the idols had better start thinking about this soon as that’s where their
About now I’m considering a divorce as the LovelyWife sings along word for word to Klancie with a K’s ‘number one’ (snigger) choice – If You’re Not in it For Love (or, as sung by Klancie “lah-ah-arve”) by Shania Twain. And then I got in trouble for not knowing the song… (insert raised eyebrows here).
Next time you see Klancie with K, check out her freakishly protruding collar bone. Yeech.
Damien Leith has chosen some Garth Brooks pap, just to prove to the producers that the number 1s theme IS NOT a guarantee of tasteful song choices. Just lots of sniggering in this house…
Just want to break in here and say how horribly unfair it is that this cretin will get to sing at and therefore attend this coming weekend’s AFL grand final (to see the mighty swannies go back to back) and I won’t. As Rick would say “Bastards!”
Just another thing to add to the list of justifications for that killing spree I’m planning – lousyworldfullofinjustice.
Finally, Damien’s boring boring song is over. He’s more and more like an Irish Shannon Noll each week, even if he has lost the filthy little flavour saver beard.
Next up on the ‘dance floor’ is Lavina ‘I’ve got Polynesian soul’ Williams. Not nearly as good-looking in trakkie daks as her sister, but I fear I might be going over old ground there with how teh hawtness Emily was.
But snaps for Lavina! She’s singing my favourite 1986 song ever!
Don’t leave me this way. Let me put it this way, in 1987, the year of my first walkman, I had one cassette tape – the 1986 Top 40 taped from the radio, and the Communard’s cover of this song was on it. So therefore, it was my favourite. That, along with Lady in Red.
Not sure about the entirely untasteful top she’s wearing, what with the abundance of corsetry-style laces all over. More laces than a converse hi-top. I’m tellin’ ya!
Now, we all know that Marcia never really says anything of meaning in her comments (viz “I know you tried hard up there tonight and that’s all I’m going to say” = say what?), but I think she throws in a “you go girlfriend” when she’s really stumped.
For this reason, I’m thinking of tossing this into everyday use in my professional life – for those meetings where I know I’m supposed to be all assertive and confident, but I have nothing to back up my position with:
Hmm, I smell a promotion!
Some jerk: “So we’re aiming to take this proposal forward for consideration at the 11 July meeting, does anyone have any objections?”
Me: “I think you still haven’t addressed our earlier concerns, and so we’re likely to oppose its consideration, but you go girlfriend!”
Up next, Courtney Murphy’s brother. I’m hoping the faggy dance coaches beat the air guitar out of him with a real guitar. Alas, this show brings more disappointment and it is glossed over. But they do pick up on his constipation singing stance.
Wha?! I was joking earlier about Phil Collins being a likely song choice for tonight! But Courtney Murphy’s brother has made a sage of me, singing “Take a Look at Me Now” – stand by for some obvious jokes about how I’d really not prefer to.
It seems the faggy dance coaches have cured the constipation stance problem by gluing his hands to the microphone and stand. Good on ‘em.
The performance was, however, a pile of vomit.
The faggy dance coaches can barely conceal their hot, throbbing man-lust for Dean Geyer – I’m sure there was more than just a bit of:
“No, Dean, you’re moving your hips wrong, let me just move in here behind you real close so you can follow my movements….uh, yeah, that’s iiiitttt."
What is it with Dean Geyer and songs from Triple M’s playlist from 1998-2001? The effect is that every week is just the same basic performance.
Except this week he is exceptionally out of tune. Not that this will matter, thanks to the power of 14 year-old girls with unlimited SMS plans.
Something from the Goo Goo Dolls this time. Next week, something by Nickleback or Three Doors Down, even if the theme is the Beatles or Motown. You’ll see.
Now look, I’d really prefer not to write anything about Guy Mutton, but for the sake of completeness, here goes.
What an utter utter tool, this man is.
And to back that up, he’s singing Hoobastank. Hoobastank Guy Mutton? Yoobastank. Real bad.
Jessica Mauboy. She really is Whitney Yooston. I don’t care what you say. Jess sings a “Christina Aguilera classic” (classic - wtf?!?!?) Beautiful.
She’s wheeled out her year 10 formal dress for that touch of elegance tonight and I think we should all be quite happy with this song choice.
After Kyle’s taunts last week I think this would only have been topped if she’d sung that new song “Shut up Kyle you fat, thick fuck” – but I don’t think that’s hit number 1 (snigger!) yet, so it probably wasn’t eligible. Shame.
But yes, a ‘touchdown’, which is just as lame a gimmick as it was in the previous gajillion series. Surprise!
The faggy dance coaches are quite tactful about Bobby Flynn in the ‘learning to dance’ montage. At least in front of the cameras anyway…
Bobby’s singing Arthur’s Theme and is dressed even more like a first-year Arts student than ever before.
Bobby’s performance is as close to muzak in prime time as you’re gonna get and it would be my pick for worst performance of the night except for Guy Mutton… I can’t honestly pick what audience segment would have enjoyed that.
Thence to Ricky Muscat, who I reckon probably kicked on with the faggy dance coaches for a ‘special’ coaching session afterwards, if you know what I mean – and if you get grotesquely obvious double entendres, then I’m sure that you will.
Ricky’s singing something by Chicago which being a ‘hit’ from 1982, would have to have been released before he was born into his life of chemical-wharehouse-servitude. Who picked this? His music teacher? Lame!
Tonight Ricky’s performance is full of boy-band-esque fist-pumping histrionics.
So yes, I think it’s fair to say there’s definitely been some one-on-one ‘body movement’ coaching going on (or ‘getting it awn’ – you choose).
Lisa Mitchell is the last contestant so the end is in sight – for this recap and for Lisa Mitchell. Well, I can only hope – on both counts.
She’s singing Vanessa Carlton’s A Thousand Miles.
Tomorrow’s headline – “Vanessa Carlton travels many thousand miles to take revenge on Lisa Mitchell for singing her only hit like a strangled cat having its temperature taken”.
Mark Holden is still desperately trying to justify his previous “best thing musically to come out of this country” comment, so he wiggles his way up her arse just that little bit more with some fakey fake praise.
So yes, the end of another instalment of my bloggy-come-lately Australian Idol recapping.
Do I have a tip for tomorrow night’s boot-ee?
I’m going to have to go with Ricky Muscat to at least be in the bottom three, and maybe also Courtney Murphy’s brother – but that’s just me hopin’.
Does Bobby Flynn have any fans? He’s going to need them.
But I shouldn’t make such predictions – I constantly predicted Shannon Noll would drop off the face of the competition, but even now he’s still around, wailing about in his computer-enhanced voice (it’s like vocal air-brushing, and it makes him sound like a Bee Gee).
Note that the verdict show will be on at an odd time due to the live telecast of Adam Goodes winning his second Brownlow.