Hmm, why does it surprise people that I am a reality-TV junkie? Okay, so I draw the line at Big Brother, which is a colossal waste of time, but I do enjoy The Apprentice, So You Think You Can Dance, American Idol, Fear Factor, Survivor, The Amazing Race, you name it. I mean, at the end of a 12-hour workday, I really cannot follow a show that requires me to even faintly attempt to cogitate in any way whatsoever...
So anyhow, it's the American Idol finale this wednesday and the Kodak theater is all set for a battle royale between a funky white boy and a uber-polished seventeen-year old. I'd hoped for a Blake-Melinda final but well, it's still a notch up from last season, when against all that is lucid and rational, three truly genuinely talented singers- Paris Bennett, Chris Daughtry and Elliot Yamin- found themselves edged out of the final by the karaoke king and queen of the competition... Hands up those who bought Taylor Hicks' or Katharine McPhee's albums? Now hands up those who bought Daughtry? That's what I'm saying...
From a purely musical standpoint, it should be puzzling that Jordin Sparks should be in the final instead of Melinda Doolittle, especially since Jordin was pretty bland in the semis while Melinda was positively possessed by Tina Turner when she belted I'm a Woman (sing it, W-O-M-A-N!), but I guess it was no surprise Jordin got the vote and not Melinda. Can you imagine Tina Turner winning AI? Neither can I. And of course, Jordin fits the AI cookie cutter better than Melinda- like that catchy little Mambo No. 5, she's a little bit of Kelly in your life, a little bit of Carrie on the side, a little bit of Katharine in the sun...
Jordin will win American Idol. I don't think there's any doubt about that. She looks the part, and c'mon, she's been watching the show since she was, what, twelve? Little Miss Sunshine's all grown up and ready. And something tells me she didn't learn her moves from Grandpa. At seventeen, she's a pro on how to win 'em voters. Big hair, big smile, a little bit of that beauty pageant thing goin' on... but still, Blake Lewis has been my favorite since he did 311's All Mixed Up. He says he never watched AI before joining the competition, and you are tempted to believe him if only because he doesn't do the cutesy "call me" Bambi looks when Ryan Seacrest is announcing the numbers. But damn if he doesn't rock the house every time he hits the stage. AI's seen its share of Buble crooners, Aretha-lites and Whitney-wannabes, but he's one of the rare real deals the show has discovered, a musician who has taken his musical influences and created a style he's really comfortable with. A little like Carrie Underwood and Chris Daughtry. If Carrie was nouveau Martina McBride and Daughtry was Creed reborn, then Blake's on his way to becoming a healthy synthesis of Jamiroquai and Maroon 5, the latter a band he was friends with before they hit the big time. His take on Bon Jovi's You Give Love a Bad Name is already a lock for the next American Idol highlights DVD and boy did he nail Maroon 5 and Robin Thicke in the semifinal. So belt it Jordin come Wednesday, you know you're the prom queen so shed those tears cos you know they like to see 'em, and to Blake, well, screw it man, just play that funky music, white boy!
