American Idolatry
So, yeah, I got sucked into the vortex of crap that is American Idol a few years back, and have been unable to escape. This year, at least, I’ve finally found my way to Television Without Pity, which makes viewing and reacting a great deal more enjoyable.
You might wonder why someone like me, who essentially regards the primary musical style of Idol as pure garbage, is so into the show. Part of it is the need to critique dumb people without fear of reprisal. Part of it is that it’s a chance to hear people occasionally try to *sing* on occasion rather than shout, scream, growl, mutter, belt, or any of the other vocal forms perpetrated by contestants most of the time. The occasional singing of a great song makes the whole season worthwhile, if they pull it off. Notable moments include nothing at all from this season, the powerfully mediocre Bo Bice pulling off some song I don’t know a capella last season, and Fantasia just owning “Summertime” two years ago.
I went into the finals this season relatively hopeful — it looked like an interesting slate of contestants, with a variety of voices and strengths. What, I ask, happened? Over the last few weeks, the entire lineup has demonstrated a deeply overwhelming urge to suck in confusing and strange ways. Usually at least half the contestants demonstrate why, in fact, they are not pop stars at one point or another, but by now the whole damn lot of them has proved that they really want to be third-rate pop-culture throwaways, with nothing beyond a few months in glorious Hollywood (*cough*) to show for their so-called efforts. What a waste of my pop-culture snarkiness.
But it’s not like I’ll stop watching, no, the overarching horrendousness of this batch makes it even BETTER.
