It's All Come Down to This

Well, after months of highs, lows, upsets, glory, and great legs, it's all come down to this. And when it comes to guessing who the winner of this year's American Idol is, the answer is quite clear. It's me. Obviously. Because last night, instead of watching the AI finale that no one cares about at its regularly scheduled time of 8pm, I was busy standing 15 feet away from *the* American Idol himself, Mr. Elliott Yamin, as he crooned his album out for hundreds of people at Bowery Ballroom. And lemme tell ya.. anyone listening to that kind of talent, coupled with even larger humility and great songs to match did not regret missing this year's Mouseketeers vying for the "crown" at the Kodak Theatre. In every sense of the word, Elliott was masterful as always, lovable, amazing, real, genuine and all-around worth the money. As we walked away from the stage completely satisfied and then some, I heard another fan say to her friend: "Now THAT was an $100 concert right there!". Couldn't have put it better. We love you. We do. And no contestant has had that kind of soul-dripping vocal prowess and polish since.

Seeing my man sing live for the first time allowed me to advance to the finale. My win didn't come until about 20 minutes later, when, with the help of my friend, we were allowed back into the empty ballroom to meet and greet E Double L himself. I got a picture (sure I look like a fool, but we were sweaty from all the manic shouting throughout the concert), I got a hankshake, I got to tell him how much I sweat him, and I even got to give him my card in case he's looking for someone new to open for him on future tours. Whether or not it was for real, the man actually listened to every word, looked me in the eye the whole time, wished me as much good luck on my career as I did him, and honestly took interest in the card I gave him. Not to mention the mutual chest pound we gave ourselves in honor of Jewish R&B singers. True, it's quite an exclusive club, but we haven't set up passwords just yet. In short, he's the epitome of what "celebrity singers" should be today and so aren't: immensely vocally talented, humble beyond measure, just thankful for what they've accomplished thus far, and real to those who speak to them. And thanks to him, I clearly won the night.

Then I came home and watched the kiddies duke it out for second and third place. Everytime Blake and Jordin get up there and sing now, I keep waiting for Pluto and Mickey to come skipping out behind them as backup singers, doing a sychronized Temptations-esque jig around their mics. Maybe they're waiting to do that during tonight's results show. I mean, cartoons are celebrities too y'know. But regardless, all the night really amassed to was Blake sucking, then Jordin being great when she needed to be, and then no one caring. Oh wait, I already said that before. Whatever. It's not like this is even a contest anyway.

Jordin bored to tears on the Xtina song, mainly because you can't sing "Fighter" with dead arms at your side, never moving an inch as you eek out the right runs in the right places. She handled it vocally in that there were no major mistakes, but Simon was most certainly co-REKT about the screetching tendencies she has when she goes up high and isn't supporting breathing-wise. But, at least she sang, which is more than one can say for Blake.

His first go was as Cirque de Soleil as he's ever been, and I'm pretty sure the drummer soloed more than he did the entire song. And that's not great when the 3% of the song that did involve singing sounded like apeshit. What's new. Presence-wise though, he was leagues more confident and commanding on stage than Jordy, which left me just wishing we had so much more to choose from than this duo at the end of a long and very mysterious season.

The rest of the show was Jordin reclaiming her undeniable right as winner, so I don't really need to go into details. I will say this though. As much as I can't wait for Blake to instantaneously combust when RyRy calls the results tonight, I feel he got little less than ASSAULTED by the producers when it came time for him and Jordin to sing their new single. At no moment in any day will Blake be able to pull off a song that is so cheesified Disney ballad pop as is "This is My Now". It was as though the Sparks Football Inc. mafia broke into the Kodak theatre a few hours before showtime and strangled whichever dude used to be in charge of giving the final 2 contestants a choice in what song they'd like to sing as their new single. For several seasons past, singers have been able to choose a single that best suited their vocal style (Taylor and KittyKat being the most recent example). This time around, Blake was ripped a new one - being forced to sing such sugary awfulness that even I, his sworn enemy, felt bad for him. Not only was it abysmal to listen to, it was borderline unfair, when no one is voting for Blake to sing a song like that, nor would Blake ever release a song anywhere near that genre. What's more, the single was hand-crafted to fit every curve on Jordin's body. So, someone inside the ranks pulled the plug hard and fast on the SPR-Lewis merger, just in time to make tonight's results the largest landslide in AI history no doubt. That's okay. I'm sure Chris Richardson has already laid out the rose petals on the bed to console his lover in the aftermath.

So, we'll watch tonight, knowing full well that if Melinda Doolittle had been on that stage, she would have wiped the floor with both of their faces WHILE singing whatever songs she chose to kick ass at. It's a travesty beyond measure, and it all but crippled AI's credibility as a vehicle for finding "the best vocal talent in America". My ass. Everytime they panned on former contestants in the audience, half the time I wanted to hear *them* sing a song more than the 2 up there. Shit, I even wanted to hear Ricky Schroeder do a ditty than whatever Blake was fumbling through. But like I said, not much was lost, in that I was with the Truth last night instead, live and in the flesh, and he made this year's finale all but a blip on a much more interesting screen.

And so, as I sign off until next season, I say only this: Here's to caring again in 2008. Because I assure you, no matter what the hype may try to throw our way, America has SO MUCH MORE in the way of musical talent than this. Until then, at least, I can put a point on the board for mixed girls. Congrats Jordy!