Yeah, I watched the CMAs, but I’d rather hold Kort…

I had never watched the CMA Awards in their entirety, and I really still haven’t but I watched a lot more out of  curiosity this year, and not just to make fun out of the band that I’ll call Pascal Cats, so as not to be too mean.  Even though the sound was absolutely terrible from a TV perspective (and Twitter nation pronounced it no less a disaster in person), it is not my intent to be a musical snob and decry the escalating modernity of what once was truly country and western music.

Brad Paisley CAN play a mean guitar and Miranda Lambert has a great set of pipes, and even though I believe that Loretta Lynn pretty much blew everyone else off the stage, I don’t think anyone can say that the talent well has been capped and is nothing more than a nostalgia trunk show.  I will say that auto-tune apparently plays an important role in some of these folks recorded output based on their next-door-neighbor approach to tunefulness, but I’m really trying not to be mean..

Where I’m really heading is somewhere down the way from the Ryman is an alley called alt-country/americana/new country that artists seem to consigned into, if their sound is too folky, or actually too country.  Lucinda lives down there, along with Tom Russell, Rosanne C, Patty Griffin and a host of folks who folks who either hearken back (Jamey Johnson) or dabble brilliantly (Robert Plant & Elvis Costello), and then there are people who seem other-worldly (Gillian Welch) or ethereal (Julie Miller)…which brings me to my main point finally – there are records/albums/CDs so wonderful and pure and something i just can’t describe – you have to let the recording speak for itself.  The artists listed in this paragraph have all made such recordings and some of them do get recognized by larger audiences, but many are often niched and appreciated from a distance.

This year’s album was recently released here in the US and features a couple of Nashvillians who don’t sing one song written in the last ten years, and I promise you, is the best piece of country you’ll hear inside or outside the CMAs..The name of the duo is Kort  – one part Lambchop leader Kurt Wagner with this whiskey voice paired with the pure as branch water voice of Cortney Tidwell.  The songs are timeless, the harmonies divine and in some cases will break your heart.  Just buy the dang thing..please*

*I do not know either artist, nor do I receive compensation in any form for saying any of this (as if somebody would pay me). I just love good music, and frankly, I don’t give a damn what category…

the best letter in the Rock world (or this post is brought to you by the letter ‘R’)

My first post on Glen Dean’s old group blog about music (Tangled Up in Blue) was about which letter had the best bands..as in, come up with a list of bands that start with each letter of the alphabet and then decide which letter ‘wins’.

I supported the letter ‘R’ back in that day, and I remain fiRm in my stand. I’m guessing that the vast majority of humanity would join together in a collective shoulder shrug and a chorus of ‘who the hell cares’, but hey, I’m a life-long insomniac and this is one of the things I think about trying to go to sleep. I’ve listened to some form of ‘rock’ (yeah, the word is out-dated, but I can’t think of any other single word that comes close to describing the genre) since I was 9 years old (and spent many restless nights since..).

‘R’ kicks butt. Think about it: Ramones, Replacements, REM, Red House Painters, Rolling Stones, Raveonettes, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Radiohead, Roches, Roxy Music, and Roots, not to mention the first names of many great solo artists: Ryan Adams, Roy Orbison, Randy Newman, Regina Spektor, Richard Ashcroft, Richie Valens, Roseanne Cash, Rufus Wainwright, and Ry Cooder.

Arguments against ‘R’ range from REO Speedwagon to the ghastly unmentionable.

What bRings all this to mind is a link that leapt off the page from the wonderful Chez Bez blog informing me that the new REM CD (Accelerate) is being streamed in its entirety over at Ilike. I truly have been a fan since I heard ‘Gardening at Night’, many many years ago, and like so many other fans, had begun to think their best music was behind them. They had seemed to lose their way and anything resembling a sense of humor (see Ramones, Replacements). And then, I listen to the joint, and it rocks. Not like anything since Monster (which I mostly loved), but this one is better. Really.

Sometimes I think that the whole thing is played, but then something like this or the new Radiohead comes along, and I believe all over again. Rock on, R, ruler of all the letters…and now I’m going to try to get some of that other R.E.M…

Vote!! Karl Dean for Nashville

Please don’t forget to vote today.   I truly believe that a vote for Karl Dean is a vote to continue the wonderful tradition of Bredesen and Purcell as forward-thinking clear-minded mayors.

Megan Barry and Jerry Maynard also deserve your vote.

Thanks for voting!!

The saddest country song of all time..I’m sorry, but it’s not even close

Ivy started something. You know Ivy – always started something. Over at Music City Bloggers, She challenged readers to come up with the saddest country song of all time. Many songs were proffered. At last glance, one commenter got it right.

Hear the lonesome whipperwill
He sounds too blue to fly
The midnight train is whining low
Im so lonesome I could cry

Ive never seen a night so long
When time goes crawling by
The moon just went behind a cloud
To hide its face and cry

Add Hank’s high lonesome to those lyrics and this song out-sads any of those other choices. Cash’s rendition of ‘Hurt’ is mournful, but Hank is still the king.

Probably not much ‘conchord’ on this issue, but I love this show..

I can’t do, watch, or digest ‘John from Cincinnati’, but I find myself really enjoying ‘Flight‘. The show features two seemingly non-mensa-like musicians from New Zealand who have moved to New York to make it big. As one would suspect after watching their laconic stylings, they are going nowhere fast. But, the deadpan journey is wonderful grist for a 30 minute show replete with witty tunes a la ‘They Might be Giants’.

They have one groupie and a moronic manager and an occasional soon-to-leave girlfriend or two. Not a lot happens, but they make me laugh. I thought I was the only one (besides my wife) who enjoys the show (I’ve heard nothing but derision on talk radio and in blogs), but then I discovered one of my blog-heroes also loves the show. You rock, Lindsey.

Are there more of ‘us’ out there??

Another lesson on not judging a book by its cover, or, He more than phones it in

I may be the last person in the kingdom to have seen this, but you probably won’t mind watching it again if you know the story of a remarkable, rather odd looking, young man in England who was a contestant on the English equivalent of ‘American Idol’. The English version is not necessarily looking for pop stars, as you will see here.

The before and after shots of the judges are worth noting. From a near-sneer to adulation, in just a couple of minutes. In my case, my eyes start getting dusty about 1:20 into this clip.

Ladies and Gentlemen – Paul Potts

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA%5D

Talent and worth aren’t always packaged in any way, shape or form we can predict.

Grascal-icious, or you grascally pickers..

Let me say here and now and probably down the road that if you have a chance to see the Grascals live and in person, don’t shilly-shally, procrastinate, dawdle, cogitate, hesitate or wait…GO. Last night at The Station Inn, the boys were in their element – local color, local crowd, room about to bust with people.

The guys can pick about a mile past where you think a picker could go, and you got some high-lonesome and full-bodied voices. In the middle of it all on stand-up bass stands a handsome man who somehow holds it all together. You got banjos flying, fiddles flailing, mandolins going lickity split, and something has to keep the parts from flying off the edges. Mista Smiff, master of the slap-bass standup and harmonizer extraordinare is the man. You don’t get a drum in blue-grass so somebody’s got to pop the rhythm and Mista Smiff more than passes the test.

He’s a nice looking guy who now has a much better haircut than the one pictured below. The Sista is sooo proud.

They’ve been going in and out of style, but they’re guaranteed to raise a smile…(Beatles 4-ever)

Yesterday, on my weekly Saturday afternoon jaunt to Grimey’s, I was greeted by the familiar sounds from the ALBUM pictured below (you really do need the album on this one because of the a-freaking-mazing cover). Of course, considering it was Grimey’s, they were playing a Japanese import version. but all in all, the effect was terrifically transcendental.

(More below the art…)

Ok, I’m going to be boring. I was there. Really. Before the album was officially released, WKDA (rock and roll 1240 on yer AM dial) got a promo version that they played in its entirety at midnight on whatever day they received it. I was 15 years old and owned a cheap tape recorder. I stayed up and taped every song. Soon afterwards, my family went on one of our many trips to the Smokies (we camped in Elkmont every time), and that tape player became an important part of the trip.

My parents quickly tired of Sgt Pepper, while also quickly figuring out that drugs were involved (‘I get high with a little help from my friends’ is not exactly the ‘enigma’ code). I didn’t care if they wanted to toss the tape off the side of Mt. Laconte (where I had a close encounter with a brown bear, but that’s another story..), I literally listened to the tape until it fell apart (not kidding).

If you hear Sgt. Pepper today, you still hear some wonderful tunes, clever songs, and instrumentation that holds up for the most part rather nicely. What you don’t hear is the world changing note by note by note. Nothing the Beatles did beforehand, and nothing in the realm of pop music prepared any of us for Sgt. Pepper. Not just the multi-tracking, the orchestral swells, the animal noises, the not-so-veiled references to LSD, but the whole concept..the package, the derring-do. It was a giant in-your-face to every band in the world who thought they could capture the magic.

Sgt Pepper did beget a lot of flatulence from other so-called art bands following, and the Beatles actually recorded a better album  (Revolver), but if you were alive in 1967 and you heard ‘A Day in the Life’ pastiche for the first time (through the 1,000th time), you knew the tectonic plates had shifted. The limits changed overnight.

Thanks again to John, Paul, George and Ringo. Happy 40th, Sgt. Pepper. You DID teach the band to play…

America(n Idol) where are you now?, or ‘Say Cheeeese’

I may have been just slightly distracted while kind of watching the American Idol finale last night. After all, ‘my’ Yankees were putting the Red Sox back in their place*, and there may have been some Instant Messaging going on with another AI viewer, but I do want to share some impressions and ask a few questions.

First of all, why is it somehow important for white guys who attempt to rap or ‘beat-box’ with true rappers (rapper of any color who would actually draw an audience of more than 12 if he/she was headlining) to wear their hat sideways. Does anyone over the age of three consider this ‘street’?

Secondly, Doug E. Fresh does not come close to living up to his last name. Was Fab 5 Freddy busy last night?

Tony Bennett is still amazing. I’m thinking he will probably sing at his own funeral.

What did the Beatles do to American Idol to deserve THAT kind of treatment? I’ve seen less cheese at a road-side store in Wisconsin. As a member of the Beatles generation, I’m looking for some other folks my age to file some kind of class-action suit. I don’t want the children of today to think THAT is what the Beatles sounded like.

Is Steven Tyler dying? There has to be some kind of explanation as to why Joe Perry would appear on AI, especially playing guitar for Sanjaya’s lame version of the Kinks. When the Kinks sang ‘You really got me’, they were talking about the sexual charge of a certain young woman. When Sanjaya “sings” it, I think he’s talking about cooties. Sanjaya has all the grit of a young Pat Boone without the voice.

Smokey Robinson will sound good as long as Tony Bennett. ‘Tears of a Clown’ was an appropriate song choice for last night.

Other people came and went…Green Day and Gwen Stefani had the good sense to send in a taped performance.

Two hours of this nonsense was about 90 minutes+ too much. Yeah, I”m glad Jordin won, and even that was almost anti-climatic after all the frommage.

Oh yeah..Jordin had to sing what is going to be the first ‘single’ from this year’s Idol show..I think the song is called ‘Where is my Cow?**”. Appropriate considering all that cheeeeeze.

*I’m fully aware that the Yanks are 9 1/2 games behind the Sox at this point. I have every confidence that the Sox will collect lint during July and August and the Yanks will catch up.

**I may have mis-heard the title. It might be ‘This is my Cow”.

Should be a green day for Jordin on Idol, or, don’t wanna vote for an American idiot…

Tonight on AI..

Jordin aced himShe baked himShe cooked himShe diced himShe electrocuted himShe fried himshe gored himShehammered himshe iced himShe jaked himshe kicked his assshe lambasted himshe mashed himshe neutered him(short trip)She OnO’d himShe pasted himShe quick, he sickshe racked himShe stove-piped himshe toasted himSheun-did himshe vitiated himShe wrecked himshe X’d him outShe yoked his assshe zinged him

RoLL joRdin…

In the clearing stands the boxer, a singer by her trade, or, Doolittle channels Tina

I enjoy watching American Idol for the same reason I USED to enjoy boxing. One on one..you’re out there alone, fighting/singing for your life.   Yeah, they have handlers – stylists, cut-men, coaches, corner-men, etc, but when the game is on, they stand alone to face their opponent.

Of course boxing has almost completely collapsed under the weight of corruption and greed by promoters, along with the balkanization of the weight classes and the myriad ‘belt’s in each division.   There was a whimper the other night when Oscar De La Hoya fought Floyd Mayweather..it looked like an old-time boxing match, it featured relatively well-known boxers and it was enjoyable to watch*, but in the end, big-time boxing is as moribund as Mike Tyson’s brain.

So, what do we have left – wrestling..fun, but fixed.  Ultimate Fighting – maybe for the Gen-X crowd, but too brutal for me.  I have to make do with American Idol.  Not because I really like the music (at least most of it), but because I love raw competition.

Last night, Melinda took on Whitney Houston and Tina Turner.  Not many people can do both of those with so much aplomb and strength and restraint.  Melinda knocked it out.   She may not win the entire show, but she remains the only Idol contender that would cause me to actually spend money on her CD.

Jordin was good, and at times great, but she doesn’t hold up next to Ms. Doolittle.  Jordin may win anyway, because she looks better and is a slightly better stage performer, but in the end, winning a round here or there doesn’t mean you win the fight.

Mr. Blake, he’s dead.

*I watched the replay on HBO..didn’t spring for the 60 bucks.  My favorite moment was in between the rounds when Mayweather’s brother (his corner-man) leaned in with a bit of technical advice: “Just, whup his ass, Floyd”.

Patty Griffin OWNS the Ryman

Flaming red…I know how much most people hate it when somebody has a new religious experience at a concert that you didn’t attend or some intense experience that apparently transformed how life is seen and they JUST HAVE to write about it, but let me just say, if you have a chance to see Patty Griffin perform anywhere, but especially at the Ryman, for the love of all that is good, go see her.

I did..last night, with Lynn and friends along. Patty came out in the black dress and the flaming red high heels to match her hair. She swung, sung, torched, and strummed into the heart of every last soul in attendance. Until Patty, I’ve never been to a pop/rock concert where the audience is in complete silence during the performance. Both times I’ve seen Patty at the Ryman the audience is as reverent as the 37205 crowd at the Schermerhorn. Her music deserves no less.

Her band was outstanding. Last night featured a surprise guest – Ian McLagan, long-time accompianist to Rod Stewart and the Stones. I’m sure set lists can be found elsewhere, but my favorite parts were the pure strong vocals on Nobody’s Crying, her wonderful re-working of ‘You Send Me’ into ‘Oh Heavenly Day’, and anytime when the spirit moved Patty to just rock on the guitar..hair flying, feet stomping transcendence.

Oh yeah, buy her latest CD (Children Running Through). I promise you will not regret the money spent.

Not that I really care anymore, but Sanjaya

is OUTTA HERE.   The silliness, or at least this chapter of the silliness, is done.

I’m thinking that if Jimmy Sturr asked Melinda to sing lead, she could pull it off.  Amazing.

Sanjaya Idol, it’s his show, the rest are just (actually) singing

Sanjaya will live on for three or four more weeks and continue to draw most of the attention. After tonight, in his white suit and feeble rendition of ‘Dancing Cheek to Cheek’ (his talent or lack of same at this point is irrelevant), the best way to top himself is to don a Bugs Bunny costume and sing that opening song to the Looney Tunes Medley..’on with the show, this is it….’

Lakisha was the best tonight, even though Melinda is clearly the most talented. Haley’s version of ‘Ain’t Misbehaving’ was a little all over the map, and at times showed no comprehension what the song was really about. I’m afraid Haley and her legs are almost off the show. Oddly enough, Gina might be voted off tonight, but Haley deserves it (with the understanding that Sanjaya is in a category of his own).

The maroons of American Idol picked the tressed-sub-crooner to be on the show, and they are finally getting what they deserved for not picking the most talented 24 singers. Besides, I’m still bitter that Tami Gosnell didn’t get picked!

Update-Weds AM: Gina is gone gone gone tonight.

Can the RIAA smell the Brylcream*, or, trouble in paradise

I’m sitting here in Centennial Park on an incredibly beautiful, if not perfect day. I’ve got the breeze, the sun, the water fountains, the kids feeding the ducks and broadband courtesy of our city fathers (and mothers). I’m listening to my favorite radio station on the planet – Radio Paradise. You won’t find Radio Paradise on your AM/FM dial..it’s a virtual station located only on the intertubes. The playlist is almost indescribable. You don’t get much hard-core rap or thrash metal, but pretty much everything else is game. At this exact moment they are playing Buddy and Julie Miller…right before the Millers was the Postal Service, preceded by Imogene Heap. Wait a few minutes and you might get Coltrane or Bartok or Corinne Bailey.

But, if the incredibly short-sighted folks at the Recording Industry Arts folks have their way, Radio Paradise will be as lost as John Milton’s sight. Back in the 70s, the RIAA rose up in anger over the potential of the blank cassette. They wanted them banned because, egads, someone could actually RECORD music and play that music. Of course, somebody had to actually BuY the music to record in the first place, but unlike the Ford Motor company they wanted a piece of the re-sale action. My GoD, it could be the end of the recording industry they wailed to congress. And congress listened, and did what they do so well, added a tax/levy on the purchase of a blank cassette tape, so that the industry and the struggling artist could be paid for their work. The actual amount of $$ the struggling artists receive from this booty is laughable and perhaps best left for a post from an actual artist.

The real point here is that RIAA has never embraced new technology. The Phillips and the Steve Jobs of this world get there first, lap the field and the RIAA is still trying to deliver vinyl. Instead of embracing the digital revolution (music distribution via digital), the RIAA concentrated on putting kids in debtors prison for illegally downloading songs.

I don’t think one should download songs for free or without some kind of license (e.g. Napster) , but for the love of the 21st century, music delivery is streaming thru the computer, not the crumbling towers of CDs and tape.

The RIAA has once again lobbied the powers that be to make internet radio stations pay an onerous and HIGHER rate of royalty than over the air radio stations. They appear to be winning the fight. They are so stupid on this issue my head hurts.

Internet radio is doing more to inform listeners of new and varied music than any 10,000 Clear Channel stations. If you want to break out of the American idol chicken pop pablum reeking from mass market radio, there are a few good over the air outlets, but if you want to hear it all, you gotta get to the internet radio stations.

If the RIAA has it’s way, the revised royalty standards will finish off all but the most corporate of internet radio (AOL, Yahoo). When corporations rule the music world, you get corporate rock. They built this city and good grief, did it sound shitty.

If you want to read more from an articulate and obviously biased source, read THIS from the creator of Radio Paradise. Bill ain’t making a bundle, but he’s living his passion and we get to share. It’ll be a shame if the music dies…again.

*reference to a great line from the Sopranos Uncle Junior – ‘that FBI guy has his head so far up my ass he can smell the Brylcream’. I love the Brylcream reference. It fits the mindset of the RIAA when it comes to new musical technology.

I had a dream, along with FEARLESS Idol predictions..

I won’t belabor my illness any further, at least beyond this post, but I’m asking any of you who watched American Idol last night (I THINK I did):

Did Frederico Fellini take over the contest and somehow make Sanjaya’s head look like something out of a bad Patti Labelle hair look-a-like contest? I may have been delirious what with the meds I’m taking, so even though I know that nothing at this point could get Sanjaya voted off of this stupid show, I am pretty sure I was hallucinating, right??

I’m pretty sure I was dreaming because Idol seemed to showcase an artist from the 21st century, an oddly demure Gwen Stephani, who actually seemed to give people pretty decent advice, which was also seemingly ignored. Couldn’t they find Billy Ocean or Billy Idol or Pablo Cruise?

Anyway, I was fully awake to hear Haley butcher a great Cindie Lauper tune, and to hear Chris ‘I may be going home tonight’ Sligh miss pretty much every possible beat on the Police chestnut, ‘Every Little Thing’, with the key word being TRAGIC instead of MAGIC.

Melinda is a better ballad/torch singer than an uptempo singer, but even with that fact, Jack, she still stood out, towering over the rest with a great rendition of Donna Summer’s ‘Heaven Knows’.

The singer pulling up on the outside of the track is Gina..she did the Pretenders well last night, and I think she deserves to stick around for a while, that is, if the carnival of the absurd doesn’t make peacock-head Sanjaya the ‘la dolce voca’ of American idolatry.

Finally, IRON-CLAD PREDICTION: Either Chris Sligh or Haley will go tonight. Sanjaya is safe for another day and another whack. Where’s David Copperfield when you need him?

Rocking the joy in Ashland City, or, I’m seeing a lot less of Slartibartfast these days..

Friends, let me testify. Those scales that Slarti keeps showing on his blog are accurate. The man is disappearing before our very blog-eyes. He really is nearly at fighting weight. If his thick hair keeps growing it may soon outweigh his torso!

We saw ‘his’ band last night. Little group of about 73 people (uh, actually there were nine, but they sound BIG). The band is called ‘X-Alt‘, which is a pretty clever despite the fact that maybe one of the ‘kids’ in the band is from Generation X (not that everyone else on stage is dino-saur-ish!) and they really don’t play alternative music, but what they do is exalt, with some Memphis-style horns, a couple of keyboards, some stinging guitar, and a ton of good vocalists.

This is the third time I’ve heard these guys. I’m not a big Christian music kinda guy. I grew up in an era where a lot of schlock was passed off as music and labelled Christian or praise, and it was somehow OK, because of the ‘brand’. I know the industry has grown up quite a bit since those days (yeah, probably a lot more than I’ve grown up), but my prejudice still is woven neatly into my sleeve.

These guys play great music. If the music blows, the message suffers. I know the message is really the true medium for X-Alt, but they know better than me, if the songs aren’t popping, the ‘go ye into all the world’ bit isn’t going to make it out of the driveway.

Our diminishing buddy Slarti got more vocals last night than the previous times I’ve heard the band. Slarti’s voice has a little more grit and growl than anybody else up there. He’s the one that can do the upbeat Stax-rumble and make it work along with those punctuating horns behind him. He especially shines on his own tune, ‘Piggyback Ride’ (uh, Slarti, your passion is showing).

My wife pointed out to me last night that the reason the song ‘Oh Happy Days’ works so well for these guys is that they don’t play it dirge-speed. They actually SOUND happy. Yeah, they do a lot of standards from the 60s, either leaving them alone lyrically to convey the message: Lean on Me, He ain’t Heavy, Put a Little Love in Your Heart*, or twisting the lyrics a bit to make sure we know WHERE the love’s coming from, e.g. Slarti’s take on the Sam and Dave ‘Soothe Me‘. The soothing here is heart-ward, and a little more to the ‘north’ than perhaps the original.

I don’t want to denigrate or neglect the rest of the band, especially the vocals. They truly have more lead singers on one stage than Van Halen and The Band put together. But, I”ve just gotta say that last night, Katy Seale was ON. She sings right on the edge of Americana, blues and torch just enough to make you realize you’d drive all the way to Ashland City for her featured songs alone. Throw in the amazing harmonies, the tight horns, the stinging guitar, and an occasional poignant flute, and you have good times, even if you doubt the Source of their inspiration.

And, oh yeah, Slarti threw in a little go-go dancing last night that almost cleaned out my nasal passages with espresso. Somewhere, someone needs to get that on ‘YouTube’.

*my one piece of advice is to drop ‘Put a Little Love in Your Heart’ and pick up another Memphis style song like some Dusty Springfield or the Isaac Haye’s chestnut: “If something is wrong with my baby…”. Too many good vocal chops in that band to not serve up some more grit.

Ophelia, you’re shaking my confidence daily…

Today’s text: And the seas shall part, and the dead shall rise, and perhaps vote.

As noted in many other places, Ophelia Ford is attempting to honor a favorite son (Justin Timberlake) of her home city of Meyumphis by resolving that Justin is a more than just an overgrown Mouseketeer . Besides the obvious humor of ‘sexyback’ appearing in the proclamation, I”m only sorry that the movie poster of ‘Black Snake Moan’ isn’t also part of the deal. Seeing Cristina Ricci in chains next to Samuel L. Jackson would just kinda take this one over the top.

I understand that this kind of honorarium is normally pro forma (in this case, I think the proclamation is being revised to remove the ‘sexy’ bits because we ALL know that we can’t be honoring SEX, for the love of Elvis, especially since there’s another proposed bill making sex with farm animals a felony (what problem, exactly, is being solved here?).

I think it’s only fair that some middle Tennessee senator propose a resolution honoring the fine young ‘Kings of Leon‘ that actually still live around these parts, or maybe Jemina from ‘Be Your Own Pet‘. She lives in Nashville, and although it may cause me to be belittled by my feminist sisters, I have to say: she’s such a cutie..

America voted, and America you…

are listening to www.votefortheworst.com. Wow..not only keeping the negatively talented Sanjaya on the show*, but also keeping him out of the bottom three. This has gotta be giving the show fits, because they don’t need to be perceived as a joke. Every week Sanjaya stays on, the punchline gets a little closer.

This wouldn’t bother me one iota except that the extremely talented Ms. Doolittle deserves to win. Actually, I think we already know she’s the best. The idea of Simon, et al, backing Sanjaya to a faux hilt is actually pretty amusing, pending the ‘votetheworst’ plan continuing to un-hatch.

It’s possible the votetheworst coattails are extending to Haley, but on the other hand, the show a lotta skin strategy might have it’s more positive rewards.

I listened to Sanjaya ‘doing’ the Kinks again on YouTube…it’s worse than I heard live. If either Ray or Dave Davies decide to bludgeon Sanyaya with a guitar, accoustic or electric, no jury in the land with any degree of hearing would vote to convict. I”m thinking a desperation move on the show’s part might be to sneak in and shave the guy’s head when he’s sleeping. On the other hand, Delilah had better taste…

*uh, the stupid show is American Idol. I could pretend that I”m way too cool for this show, but the truth is, the show is like sleeping pills to the hopelessly sleep starved. I’m somewhat addicted. And, Nashville’s own, Melinda Doolittle is actually very very good.

Evolution disproved, (but intelligient design has to be questioned as well!)

Sanjaya, the young haircut in search of a voice, survived again tonight on American Idol. The herd was thinned with the elimination of the often-out-of-tune Brandon, but even Brandon sounds like Chris Isaac compared to the rajah-rep of the twinkie-voiced.

Last year, the ‘chicken little’ guy lasted longer than any sane person would have allowed, so I guess we’re due another anomoly. Of course, this is the country that didn’t watch ‘Arrested Development’ and still watches that stupid show with Jim Belushi (John B’s body is a rollin’ in the grave). We are not men, we are de-vo(lved)…

Late addition now that I’ve thought a little more about the pressing issues of the day:  Was that actually Diana Ross or some pretty decent ‘drag’ impersonator?   If her vocals would have been judged honestly, and if she was a contestant, she’d be on the short list to go home.  She ‘was’ great, but in the context where ‘was’ means 25 years ago.  I really hope her handlers tweak the meds juuuuust a little bit, unless her idea of a conversation is literally repeating back word for word the sentence or phrase that was just spoken by the other member of the ‘conversation’.

I’m still waiting for Tom Waits night.  Sanjaya singing ‘Rain Dogs’ just might force me to get my recumbent ass off the sofa and vote…