Showing posts with label american idol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label american idol. Show all posts

Friday, March 05, 2010

going for the cutesy.

Okay, like it or not, rigged or not (and I even have my reasons to back this one up), the fact is American Idol is here to stay, or at least it looks like it, proving and pulling once again its enormous strength in its eighth year, despite the Paula cut-down, which I’m sure a lot of the show’s fans actually liked, and the genesis of De Generes, and despite the earlier pronouncement of Simon walking out after this year.

I wasn’t really sure what they’re gunning at especially when the contestants sucked during the Top 24 perfs. I mean, they should know better right? But it didn’t take long, and I realized what it’s all about enough for me to even spot two potential idol winners. Of course that’ll change when they’re 12 or 10. I didn’t notice David Cook until the Billie Jean rendition, and Kris Allen in his version of Ain’t No Sunshine. These songs were performed 9 weeks before the finale, and that’s when I called them, without any ambivalence. Prognosticator? I don’t know. I’ve only watched the show since Cook’s time.

Voice and talent notwithstanding, because you have to have it of course, AI is trying to be all the more current, which explains the seemingly lax and uninteresting/interesting personas. The voice definitely will not play the biggest selling point here; personality, charm and uniqueness will. Having said that, for the guys: Lee Dewyze, Alex Lambert, then Andrew Garcia; girls: Lily Scott, Siobhan Magnus, then Crystal Bowersox, Katelyn Epperly. Your top 7? Beats me.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The Davids

In a matter of minutes, the next AI will be crowned. There is no single doubt that the show’s influence has seeped into pop culture so easily that we now call this generation the Idol generation. What just unfolded is season 7, the first time that I actually watched the show. So I don’t really have an inkling as to the progression of the previous seasons which already spawned Grammy-award winning artists Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood.

But, besides them, who has actually gone to the level of musical superstardom that Idol promises. It is important to look at the facets of Idol and I believe that this season, culminating with the 2 Davids, provides the perfect two-pronged analysis of this pop culture phenomenon.

One is consistency which can also be translated to predictability and stringent adherence to Idol norms – song choice, arrangement, even the icky pitch – and of course extreme likability which basically prompts the people to twiddle with their fingers to text or phone in. The other one is artistry, a certain level of craftsmanship and sincerity to the music that renders originality and flexibility, which roughly, could mean that it poses a level of unpredictability that excites another parcel of the voting populace. Taking into account the winners of previous seasons, the former still prevails.

Archuleta has an annoyingly good voice and has chosen smart songs. Clearly, he’s in it for the win. Cook, on the other hand, is the most sincere, most creative, and daring enough to shake the ground of predictability.


But whatever right? Staying in the scene is what matters. And Defying the Convention is always given a premium. Go Cookey! ‘Nuff said.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting