Idol Chatter :: Top 20 :: The Boys!

by Nick Dussault
Tuesday Mar 1, 2005
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It’s about that time in the season when we begin to get really up close and personal with our aspiring Idols. As the number of contestants dwindles, the producers need to fill up enough time to keep the pedestrian pageant running three nights a week. With all that ad revenue, you’d think they’d find a salon where Miss Paula could get help with her helmet hair. Does she look in the mirror before the cameras start rolling? Apparently not.

But I digress. Before we go any further, I have to speak directly to the Idol wannabes. When they’re interviewing you, don’t say anything, especially if you’re not real bright to begin with. Through the miracle of editing, they can take anything you say and turn it into good television. And that’s not necessarily a good thing for your “career.”

How else can you explain the stupid utterances of that chick-magnet wannabe Constantine Maroulis? In his pre-performance, pre-taped spot, the dirty-haired, aspiring rocker spoke on the challenges of being an Idol contestant. “I like to live dangerously. This is about as dangerous as it comes. People out there might not think so, but trust me.”

No Constantine, you trust me when I tell you that in all of your 28 (we know it’s really 30) years you have never faced any real danger. Perhaps we should make Iraq the first stop on the Idol bus tour so you can speak to the young men and women who face real danger on a daily basis. Or maybe you can talk to kids struggling with terminal illnesses who could show you how easy your life really is. This is make believe you imbecile, enjoy it while it lasts.

Speaking of fantasies and pipe dreams, hopefully David Brown’s will be over soon. If Stevie Wonder ever heard David’s dreadful rendition of “All is Fair in Love,” he’d wish he was deaf, too. Simon said “it was okay at best.” I think Simon was being uncharacteristically kind.

In fact, I thought he might be losing his edge until Joe Murena came along and ruined “Let’s Stay Together” for us. I’d actually forgotten about Joe, but there he was warbling away, barely on key and, during his best moments, looking like a Holiday Inn lounge act. Simon said, “This is 2005. We could’ve been in a Portuguese night club in 1974. I think you are a good cabaret singer. I would be amazed if you lasted another two weeks.”

He spoke much more highly of the other contestants tonight, especially Mario Vazquez, the man whose mother and I think will win it all. Our Mario was put in the tough position of being the opener tonight, but he delivered as always. Looking dapper in his white straw fedora, off-white blazer and bold yellow t, the man who will be Idol, dazzled us with the O’Jays’ “I Love Music.”

The judges loved him. Randy encouraged Mario to “keep challenging yourself.” Shameless, boy-crazy Paula cried, “I’m going to keep wanting more, more, more Mario.“ Back off, bitch.

Simon said, “You know what you’re all about. You don’t need any advice from us.” And the gracious young man from the Bronx replied, “I still want it - you guys know what you’re talking about.” Isn’t he something?

So is Scott Savol, though I’ve yet to figure out what. Maybe I’m just getting used to him, but he really was pretty good tonight. There’s something sort of charming about that psychotic sparkle in his eyes and that simple Gump-like persona. Paula told him he “looked great.” Simon agreed. Randy didn’t and he better watch his fat ass, I still think there’s something wrong with Scottie.

I’m starting to think there’s something a bit amiss in my own thought process too. Tonight while I was watching miracle man Anthony Fedorov sing “I Want to Know What Love Is,” I became fixated on the little tracheotomy scar on his neck. I couldn’t stop staring at it. Eventually I started to think about the Pope and his little trach hole and this led me to last season when they showed 16-year old hairless redhead John Stevens wearing nothing but a towel. I think I need to go cast a few more votes for Mario.

But first, can we talk about Nikko Smith? In an outfit that made him look like the love child of Ike Turner and Erkel, the man who wants to “bring you back to real music and real singing,” delivered a rendition of “Let’s Get It On” that left Miss Paula nearly speechless. “I’m a little excited here,” she coyly muttered in a thinly-veiled attempt at hiding how much she wanted it tonight. Wonder if her Chihuahua’s in heat too.

The whore-moans were much more in check when Travis Tucker was singing, however. Clad in a bright yellow shirt that make his loafers look a bit light, he belted out a song made famous by Nicole Richey’s father. That’s right, the "Simple Life" star has a famous dad named Lionel. I think he, like me, would’ve found Mr. Tucker’s interpretation of “All Night Long” borderline tragic. And then there was the big, chorus girl like ending where he stretched his arms out in diva-like fashion and crossed that border.

Speaking of borders, if Bo Bice’s performance tonight was any indication, his lone rocker competition, Constantine, might want to make his dangerous living elsewhere. I’m thinking border patrol in Iraq for Connie. You see, Bo knows rock. He did the Allman Brothers on American Idol and though many of the young tartlets in the audience didn’t know what to make of it, Simon did. “Every once in awhile somebody comes on the scene and does something so fantastic that it blows you away.”

Rock on, Bo.

“Seacrest out,” please.

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