Idol Lost, Game Over

Don’t blame me. Tuesday night I voted for the first time this season. I live in southern California and voted for Constantine Maroulis non-stop from 9:45pm until 10:15pm Pacific time. I was very concerned when it was so easy to get through to vote on probably 90% of my attempts in a region that should have been his natural constituency.

I have to say that I was thrilled by Constantine’s fierce, passionate, defiant performance of How You Remind Me by Nickelback. When I first read that this week’s American Idol theme would be 21st century pop music, the only contestant I even thought about, cared about, was Constantine Maroulis. I hoped that Constantine would choose to sing Time Is Running Out by Muse. First, the song is a special favorite of mine. Second, it is a bold, dramatic, classically inspired anthem in the style of Bohemian Rhapsody, possibly his most memorable AI effort. Third, the choice would be audacious, unpredictable and unconventional for Idol standards like Constantine the man himself.

Instead he selected How You Remind Me, audacious, unpredictable and unconventional in its own way. However, afterward I suspected it would leave some of his non-hard rock fans nonplussed. That is the primary reason I felt compelled to vote for Constantine as many times as I could in the 30-minute window available to me. I wanted to vote for Vonzell Solomon, too, until the realization that Constantine might be vulnerable clarified a lot of my mixed feelings about AI4.

Until two weeks ago, I used to think I would be content if Carrie Underwood or Bo Bice were crowned the 2005 American Idol. Both seem like unusually nice people, but their musical preferences (country and Southern boogie, respectively) leave me unmoved. On Tuesday night, Bo donned some Half Baked hippie threads to sing a safe song about being true to himself while Constantine lived it by giving another risky performance from another fresh genre. And it looks like it cost him the competition.

With Constantine Maroulis, AI finally featured a contestant who shared my musical frame of reference and appreciation for an eclectic variety of genres. He was easily the most versatile of all the AI4 performers. He could sing the cool jazz of Rodgers and Hart, the daring theatrics of Freddy Mercury, the emotional simplicity of Bonnie Raitt, and even reinvent Bee Gees' disco – all with his distinctive interpretation and sexy, toe-curling style.

Without Constantine Maroulis, this competition is the same old recycled crap that wasted my time last year – the manipulations, the favoritism, the reactionary herd mentality. If you don’t understand how Constantine’s charisma and magical talent revitalized viewers and resuscitated a show on its last wobbly legs, just try to imagine AI2 without Clay Aiken. Since the idiots-in-charge were so careless that year with Clay and his fans, I think they have been squandering borrowed time.

Clay’s grace as the first runner up in season two and his subsequent success saved the franchise. The Idol team has alienated a sizable chunk of their audience again by their carelessness with Constantine and his fans. Who will save the franchise now? Is the franchise worth saving? These are questions each of us can answer for ourselves.

I am angry, disappointed, shell-shocked. I heard about his elimination three hours before it was aired in my time zone. With Constantine’s declaration in Tuesday night’s video clip that he wanted to be the American Idol still reverberating in my befuddled brain, I was keen to watch how the crew handled his departure.

There was no personal concern for Constantine, aside from Paula Abdul's tears, no suggestion of voter wrong-headedness, no scolding the audience for their stupidity, no exhortation to America to vote for the best performer to prevent another miscarriage of justice. There was no Bo Bice treatment.

There was the same tired, broken game of choose-your-sides that was especially cold and cruel considering that Constantine had never even been in the bottom three before and then – bam – suddenly he’s gone.

There was the Simon Cowell celebratory smirk thrown Randy Jackson’s direction when Ryan Seacrest announced that favorites Bo and Carrie were safe. When Simon congratulated Scott Savol and announced that he had a right to be in the top three, he had to know that Constantine was eliminated. Do you think he cares one whit? Randy, always a Simon wannabe with a heart, had to know that his Cowell-like comment to Bo – “You’re the true rocker” – was another nail in the coffin. Hey, Randy, I got your true rocker right here.

There was a smiling Scott captured and frozen in memory by the camera, as if the idiots-in-charge were saying, “Fans of Constantine, here is your enemy.” Don’t believe it. Neither Scott nor Bo nor Carrie nor Anthony nor Vonzell eliminated Constantine. Barring some kind of bizarre irregularity, he was eliminated because he received the lowest vote total.

Without a doubt, a contributing factor was the farcical Dueling Rockers gimmick and the narrow-minded philosophy that cannot tolerate two gifted singers with nominal cosmetic similarities. The American Idol quota system rewards safe performers from familiar genres and sabotages risk takers. God knows that does not describe the Constantine we know, love and want to see lots more of.

Fellow disaffected fans of Constantine, we have reason to rejoice. If John Stevens can get a prized recording contract, surely Constantine will be inundated with offers that he can accept on his own terms, free of the Idol tentacles if he wishes. The AI team may already be negotiating with him, especially if they fear our backlash.

Things could be worse. Constantine could have won the American Idol crown of thorns as the show falls apart under the weight of its own baggage. You know he would have been blamed for killing the franchise. We might still hear the death rattle, but it won’t be Constantine’s.

Two years ago a nation of fans fell hard for the charms and talent of Clay Aiken. Our motto was, “Idol found, game over.”

For the bitter and the broken-hearted, our new motto is: “Idol lost, game over.”

Top 6 Signs of American Idol End Times

Here are the Top 6 signs during Top 6 week that these are the end times for American Idol:

6. Phone numbers for voting were changed to the 666 area code.

5. Flat humor by host Ryan Seacrest inspires a national campaign to bring back Brian Dunkelman.

4. Randy Jackson, briefly the touring bassist with Journey, is now the final authority on who is a true rocker.

3. Flubbing the official talking points, Simon Cowell tells the judges’ favorite contestant that his performance, only the second of the night, was the absolute best of the show … so far.

2. The judges’ favorite dresses like a Deadhead delegate to the Green Party convention.

And the number 1 sign that these are the end times for American Idol:

1. Paula Abdul is the fairest, most coherent judge.

Idolspeak Decoded

A few readers have questioned my ability to divine the innermost thoughts of the American Idol host, judges and production team. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, as somebody said, and I appreciate all feedback, adoring and otherwise. But no one can dispute the telepathic powers of the ring.

Lord, no, not that ring. I mean the magic decoder ring that comes free in marked boxes of American Idol Granola Flakes, which is available in two varieties: Simon Cowell’s sugar free or Paula Abdul’s honey nut. You can pick one up at your nearest dollar store, wear the ring on Tuesday nights, and spend an hour in my shoes.

Or, on second thought, you can read on. This is starting to smell like the final year of American Idol, so why keep secrets? Just use this handy translation guide and you too can become an insufferable know-it-all.

Ryan Seacrest: "People, vote for your favorites."
Translation: We see the voting results. Your favorites are our favorites.

Ryan Seacrest: "People, vote for the best performers."
Translation: We see the voting results. You people are out of your freakin’ minds.

Ryan Seacrest 2004: "Contestant A, go stand with the top three."
Translation: Our favorites are in this week's bottom three. Go stand with them to show America who clearly deserves to be in the top three.

Ryan Seacrest 2005: "Contestant X, go stand with the top three."
Translation: Our favorites are in this week's top three. Go stand with them to show America that our favorites are obviously the best performers.

Ryan Seacrest: "Contestant X, you don’t really want to guess the top three, do you?"
Translation: I am such a toady. I loathe myself.

Ryan Seacrest: "America, this is your bottom three [contestants X, Y and Z]. If you want contestant X to stick around, you have to vote."
Translation: What do we have to do to get you people to vote for X? Whatever it is, we’ll do it.

Ryan Seacrest to contestant Y: "[Silence]"
Translation: America, why is Y still in the competition? You people are out of your freakin’ minds. What do we have to do to get you people to vote for X instead? Whatever it is, we’ll do it.

Ryan Seacrest to contestant Z: "Goodbye, Z. Your American Idol journey is over. Here’s a microphone. Now sing."
Translation: What do we have to do to keep X from leaving? Whatever it is, we’ll do it.

Ryan Seacrest: "Contestant B, this week you are safe. How do you feel about that when the judges didn’t think it was your best performance?"
Translation: Contestant B is not one of our favorites. You people are out of your freakin’ minds. Pay attention to what the judges say.

Simon Cowell: "It’s your contest to lose."
Translation: You are the one I want signed to my label.

Simon Cowell: "You are the contestant to beat."
Translation: Forget what I said before. I have.

Simon Cowell: "You reminded me of a midget acrobat in a Bangkok hotel."
Translation: I wish I were in Thailand right now.

Simon Cowell: "You look like you’re wearing my grandmother’s housedress."
Translation: Sex appeal sells, but you’re not going to make it easy for us.

Simon Cowell: "I wish I could be your microphone."
Translation: I’ve just made an inappropriate come-on to a contestant in front of my girlfriend, the ABC news division and millions of viewers, and I don’t care.

Simon Cowell: "I hardly know what to say."
Translation: I know what to say, but the producers won’t let me.

Simon Cowell to a performer he doesn’t like: "That was strictly karaoke."
Translation: You gave a note-by-note performance of a stupid song. Go away.

Simon Cowell to a favorite who gave a note-by-note performance: "That was brilliant."
Translation: You are the one I want signed to my label.

Randy Jackson: "It was only a’ ‘ight."
Translation: I don’t understand why you’re still here, but I’ll leave the insults to Cowell.

Randy Jackson: "It wasn’t your best performance."
Translation: I like you, but you sucked. I hope Cowell doesn’t say you should go.

Randy Jackson 2002-2004: "I wasn’t feeling you."
Translation: I like you, but you sucked. I hope Cowell doesn’t say you should go.

Randy Jackson 2005: "I wasn’t feeling you."
Translation: I never did anything inappropriate and that’s what you’re going to tell Primetime Live, right?

Randy Jackson: "Dude, you in my dawg pound."
Translation: So was Ruben Studdard and he became top dawg.

Randy Jackson: "Dude, you know you’re in my dawg pound, but …"
Translation: You are one week away from euthanasia.

Paula Abdul: "[…]"
Translation for anything she says this season: Somebody help me.

Bo Is Back: A Cautionary Tale

Once upon a Tuesday evening in 2004, a group of aspiring superstars gathered for Big Band Night, a slice of Americana. Although the genre was challenging and mostly unfamiliar to the teenagers and twentysomethings, they sang their hearts out. Near the end of the show, the host introduced the final performer by posing the question, "Have we saved the best for last?" Then the judges’ early favorite appeared and sang . . . a big band song from the 1930s? A big band song from the 1940s? A big band song from the 1950s?

Nope. The song was Queen’s 1979 Britpop classic, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, as performed by Fantasia Barrino with a be-bop arrangement. We may never know if Fantasia can sing big band style, but clearly her protectors in the control booth didn’t dare take a chance and the grand finale treatment she received guaranteed that voters could not forget her that evening.

Fast forward one year to ‘70s Dance Music Night, usually called Disco Night but not this time for reasons that are now obvious. Although the genre was challenging and mostly unfamiliar to the youngsters, they sang their hearts out. Near the end of the show, the host introduced the final performer. Then the judges’ early favorite appeared and sang . . . Vehicle by the Ides of March.

Vehicle was a one-hit wonder when I was in middle school. Yes, I was a kid then, but I attended every school dance, every church dance and every dance in my friend Jeanne’s garage. I was a dancing fool from the age of 3 and I will swear on a stack of old vinyl records that I never danced to Vehicle. If that is dance music, then so is everything by Chicago and Steely Dan and so is that campy ‘70s song, Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl), which I bet Bo Bice could sing really well but, dear God, don’t let him try.

The good news is that Bo Bice avoided vehicular manslaughter. The Bo we missed – self-assured and soulful – returned in excellent form. I am thrilled for Bo, for his fans, and for the AI4 competition, which would be poorer without the talented Mr. Bice. Happiest of all are the Idol puppeteers, who will be richer with the marketable Mr. Bice under contract.

Puppeteers? Oops! If your illusions that American Idol is a fair, equitable contest are intact, by all means stop reading. Pay no attention to the men behind the curtain. Just because I feel like someone pissed in my Grape Nuts doesn’t mean that I want to spoil everyone else’s delight in Bo’s triumph, of which he deserves to be proud. I hope this is the first of many more weeks of Bo-mentum.

Here’s my complaint. Until this week, I thought AI4 was relatively free of the backstage machinations that ruined AI3 and tainted AI2. Every season the idiots-in-charge, most visibly Simon Cowell, identify their American idol early and shepherd him or her through the competition. This year judges blatantly singled out Bo and Carrie Underwood as their favorites, but I thought they criticized the darling duo judiciously, so to speak, when their performances fell short. A good sign, I thought.

I know Simon is not on the Constantine Maroulis bandwagon, but last week I noticed that Constantine performed in the desirable grand finale slot, which I assumed was an acknowledgement of his enormous fan base. I interpreted that as a refreshing change from AI2 when the AI team actively thwarted the Clay Aiken phenomenom. Another good sign.

A twice-burned skeptic, I swore after last year’s debacle that I would never get invested in this Idol game again. I have not missed an episode of AI4, but part of me has remained detached. Nevertheless, I have been dazzled by the talent and riveted by what seemed like the fairest contest thus far in the franchise.

This week’s voting is over and I assume that Bo will live to sing another Tuesday. Stupidly, the results have been manipulated again. With their heavy-handed favoritism, the puppeteers have unwittingly harmed their favorite again. The contestant who leaves this week and viewers who care about the integrity of the competition may rightly feel slighted and cheated.

Ironically, the root problem is not Bo Bice’s professionalism as a performer, which is already established. The problem as always is the artificial push for diversity of style to make Idol television more entertaining. The reality is that contestants become insider favorites because they can fit a specific, marketable niche, not for their mastery on Big Band or Disco/‘70s Dance Nights. Each performer’s style becomes his or her trademark. Clay Aiken is a great example of a niche singer and his career has not suffered for it.

Bo knows his niche and I wish him infinite success. I doubt Bo knew that Vehicle would be a dance genre anomaly and in no way do I blame him for selecting a song from the list he was given that best showcased his strengths. I hope the foolish behind-the-scenes machinations are a one-show anomaly.

Before Tuesday's show I asked, "Does Bo care enough?" Now the larger question is, "Does the American Idol team care enough about the audience and their franchise to forego additional unwanted intervention?" We shall see.

Bo Knows – But Does He Care Enough?

Have you ever cared about someone with a problem who was deep in denial? No matter how much you try to help him change, you cannot force him to address or even acknowledge the problem. He has to want to change at least as much as you want him to or it will never happen.

That is the stalemate in which I find myself as a Bo Bice fan. When Wednesday night’s voting results placed Bo shockingly in the bottom three, he acted like it was no big deal. He actually shrugged off his American Idol experience as a bet he made with his mother.

Does he not remember LaToya London? You know, the AI3 contestant who sustained a self-inflicted wound when she shot off her mouth. Like Bo, she was an early front-runner lauded as a polished performer. Such a memory lapse is understandable since LaToya was voted off shockingly earlier than many of us expected – exactly one week after voting results placed her in the bottom three to which she flippantly responded by suggesting it was no big deal. Her attitude might or might not have suppressed votes from her loyal fans, but clearly it convinced the crucial remainder of the voting public that she was no big deal. Get it?

Since Wednesday I’ve been listening to some of Bo’s AI performances. On Drift Away and especially Spinning Wheel, two of his best, he was confident, charismatic and compelling. Both songs feature catchy pop melodies in his mid-range where he is strongest vocally. He seems not to fare as well with repetitive lyrics or bluesy lines that he tends to shout. Performing Spinning Wheel, the best showcase for his strengths thus far, he prowled the stage as if he owned it and growled like the king of the jungle.

Whatever he had then, it seems like he lost or forgot it. Randy Jackson thinks it is confidence. I suspect it is confidence, but his passion and desire also disappeared around the same time.

Maybe he bought into the Dueling Rockers gimmick. Last season the idiots-in-charge tried to sell us the Three Divas, but that ruse flopped almost immediately. The audience is smart enough to distinguish between Bo and Constantine Maroulis and, for that matter, Bo and all the others. To whatever degree Constantine is successful, it doesn’t come automatically at Bo’s expense.

Paula Abdul reminded the performers that the best among them do not have to collect the highest vote totals to earn a chance in the recording industry. Throughout the top 24 finals, Simon Cowell has shown more interest in signing both Bo and Carrie Underwood to contracts than their competitors and obviously no more than one of them can win the contest. Clay Aiken must be an amazing teacher to get Simon to learn the limited value of the AI victory.

Bo probably needs to stick around Idol-Land a few weeks longer if he wants a big league singing career and he definitely has to want it for himself at least as much as we want it for him. Otherwise, why would Simon or any of the Simons invest the considerable effort and capital it takes to make a hit in this age of free and cheap downloads?

Bo is the only one who knows if something changed. He is the only one who can change it back. Like any problem, you start by taking one step in the right direction. So, as Bo prepares for next Tuesday’s show, he should try to keep it simple.

At this stage, one performance alone may not win Bo the contest or that recording contract. One confident, compelling performance, however, will make potential fans like me want to vote and buy him another week in the competition. That is, if Bo wants to succeed at the American Idol game. Maybe he truly is as indifferent as his comments indicate. Or maybe, like Mario Vazquez, he has a different agenda.

Come Tuesday I’ll be taking my cue from Bo.