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TheDay.com <h1>American Idol: The Top 12 without Alex Lambert is like a day without sunshine</h1> Southeastern Connecticut News, Sports, Weather and Video The Day newspaper

American Idol: The Top 12 without Alex Lambert is like a day without sunshine

By Elissa Bass

Publication: TheDay.com

Published 03/12/2010 12:00 AM
Updated 03/12/2010 09:10 AM

You know what's great about technology? Watching last night's ousters on American Idol on my TiVo only took about eight minutes.

It would've been even less, but I stuck around to watch Alex Lambert do a lovely job singing the now-ironic Trouble for the last time on the Idol stage.

Because our sweet, mullet-headed, thrift-store clothed, confidence-challenged Southern boy was tearfully booted from Idol last night in a rare show of actual emotion. I like Andrew Garcia, but I wish it had been him.

That said — and I don't know if it's case of Stockholm syndrome or what — I am surprisingly OK with the Top 12 that America managed to craft together from The 24 Who Somehow Made It This Far. Perhaps it's the knowledge that I will not have to look at Lilly Scott's overshadowed squinty eyes, her ridiculous craft fair earrings, or her opaque tights any more. Maybe the silver lining of this cloud known as the Season 9 Top 12 is just that big.

But let's start at the beginning of last night's fast-forwarding extravaganza. Ryan shows us The Martini Glass Stools of Salvation. He says we may be in for a surprise or two. They show us Randy's head Photoshopped onto Bikini Boy's body, and he warns us that it will be a Michael Buble group sing. Fast forward.

Oh look, I got all the way to the 10-minute mark. Next week the Top 12 will massacre the Rolling Stones' song book! Oh my!

First, Didi Benami: IN! (Yay!)

Second, Siobhan, wearing a teeny braid and a dead bird in her hair (edit, dear. Edit.): IN!

Third, Paige and Katelyn together. Hmmm. Both were horrific Tuesday night. Simon says Paige should stay. Honestly? Meh. It's Paige on the stool and Katelyn singing I Feel The Earth Move without her organ. Fast forward.

Oh look, we are at the 21-minute mark! Thank you Tivo. Switching to the guys, Ryan calls down Tim, Todrick, Lee and Casey. Well, there's really no drama here, although Tim literally almost falls down when his name is called. Todrick is, of course, out, which means he gets to do his Key West supper club version of Queen's Somebody To Love again. Fast forward.

Pause at the 32 minute mark because Ryan is sitting in the Red Room upstairs. He warns us that Matt Giraud and Scott McIntyre, from last season, are going to do a Billy Joel piano duet. FAST FORWARD.

40 minutes: Crystal, looking pale and queasy, is in. Big Mike, wearing a ridiculous scarf (seriously, a homeless family could make a tent out of this thing) is in. Lacey, sadly, is in. The show's makeup artists go to Def Con Four and run out the door to the nearest Sephora to stock up. Aaron is in.

OK, those last two annoy me. I can't stand Lacey's look or voice. Everything about teeny little Aaron creeps me out (I keep waiting for him to turn into Chuckie on stage and bite off Ryan's head). But again, this season has held me hostage for so long, and served me gruel for so long, that I am less unhappy than I should be. I laugh when it looks for a second like Aaron is going to hop up on Big Mike's knee over at the stools.

Then it's Alex and Andrew on stage, and Alex is out and Andrew is in, and Ellen goes blah, blah, blah, don't stop believin', and Alex is actually crying, and now so am I, because really, this hostage thing takes its toll, and then he does a great job on Trouble and then everyone swarms him and thankfully Ryan conjures up a commercial.

The weird thing is, when we come back from commercial, everyone is still on stage, and Ryan seems to have lost control of the show, and he even acts upset, and Siobhan is a mess. Ryan explains that when actual real emotion shows up on the Idol stage, it's hard to make it leave. Understandable, but Debbie the Stage Manager's eye must be twitching like mad.

Then it's Katie and Lilly left, and the word bubble over Katie's head is: "OhmyGogOhmyGod OhmyGogOhmyGod OhmyGogOhmyGod" and the word bubble over Lilly's head is "The rich brat from Connecticut is going home." Except, of course, Lilly is wrong, wrong, wrong, and neither she nor Katie can believe it, but I can because I think for once, America took a stand against snotty singer songwriters who wear dumb earrings. There's a difference between confident and bitchy, Lilly.

Fast forward.

Next week, the 12 sing the Rolling Stones, which should be, well, interesting. On Wednesday, my good friend Rick Koster and I will tape our first Idol Autopsy video critique, so log on to check that out, and then I'll head over to WXLM-FM, 104.7 on your radio dial, where Lee Elci, Nick, and I will start to get serious about this season.

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