On the Scene: Idol Top 10 performance show

Ah, Stage 36. It's been so long and my, how I've missed you. Well, not really. Though eight months of Simon withdrawal does tend to make me a little testy. As you may have noticed, we've staggered our On the Scene reports to avoid, what we here at the E-Dubs call "Idol fatigue." And while I wasn't recovering from a South By Southwest music hangover like our little trouper Whitney Pastorek, I'll admit, sitting in an uncomfortable chair and a tight space for over 45 minutes waiting for the show to start was making me kind of sleepy. But it was my favorite seat – last row in the bleachers on the aisle, with zero chance of getting my mug on air (whew!). No thanks to the press posse party of last week, it appears all the journos have now been separated to avoid any further rowdiness (thanks a lot, guys), so I'm stuck next to a bunch of first-timers, one of whom asks the usher if it's possible to head down to the front as the show gets closer to air, to which the page, standing tall and proud in a CBS-issued red blazer, shakes his head. "No, not yet or no, not at all?" asks the Idol virgin. "Not at all," replies the usher, as if to say, "You'll sit back here and you'll like it, jackass."

Meanwhile, down below, Carly Smithson's husband has taken his seat where he is, quite honestly, being gawked at from every direction. Previously ousted pretty boy Danny Noriega is also in the house, and there's talk of 'Til Death star Brad Garrett being spotted milling about backstage. I also hone in on someone who looks an awful lot like Cheryl Hines, and start thinking about Curb Your Enthusiasm. God, that ending was so genius last season, when is it coming back?

My daze is disrupted by Corey the warm-up guy. We must've hit the 15-minute mark, I surmise (I don't know because my Blackberry got confiscated on the way in), and he is all fired up. This is the one part of the Idol audience experience that irks me. I mean, Corey's a good guy and all, he often pulls double duty warming up the crowd next door at Dancing With the Stars, which I respect. But his shtick feels like a bar mitzvah MC on meth, and I just can't take it. Fortunately, his hand-clap experiment was short-lived and in no time, the judges were coming out to be greeted by hundreds of screaming fans. Paula's looking fab and fit in skin-tight leather, Simon's sporting a pair of 7's and one massive s--t-eating grin. Ryan, on the other hand, had an air of Brian Williams about him. And why is he heading towards my secret spot in the back??

Wouldn't you know it, the opening shot is set to go down literally three feet from my seat. As soon as Ryan takes his position on the stairs and fixes his tie, every single light is turned to white and pointed directly at the back row, back-lighting him and exposing all of us. Oy. Debbie the stage manager reminds all, "Not until he says those magic words can you go wild." I, for one, hadn't forgotten.

And so the Top 10 march out in single file, with David Archuleta inspiring the loudest screams even this early in the show. The girls seem to be having some heel issues, particularly Carly and Syesha, who are both wearing ridiculously high stilettos. Still, they look good, and tall, which you certainly can't say for the first singer up, Ramiele.

As it turned out, Heart's "Alone" was too big for little Ramiele. In the studio, her vocals were totally overpowered by those of the background singers who, in all honesty, handled the song with a lot more confidence. I guess that's what makes them pros. But I'll give her props for filling that big a room with some serious belting, even if it wasn't all that. Not a great start to the show, but not to fret, Jason Castro was up next.

Jason casually strolls on to the stage, guitar in hand, almost as if he's whistling while he walks. But on first sight, the room literally explodes in cheers and he has to retreat briefly back to the safety of backstage. Ryan, meanwhile, is joking around with some girls in the front row who were holding up a "Seacrest is Sexy" sign, but they're easily distracted by a returning Jason. From afar, those pants looked awfully tight and, perhaps, not so flattering, but at least he didn't get the interview stool — that plastic, no-back, half-crested seat that seems obligatory to TV interviews, which makes anyone who sits on it feel and look painfully uncomfortable. In fact, Jason's problem tonight may have been that he was too comfortable, or laid back, as the judges noted. Still, Sting's "Fragile," with the Spanish touch, was a smart choice, as it's not only an international hit, but beloved by multiple generations. Not that Jason did it justice, of course. I agree with Simon whole-heartedly and actually think I did hear it sung in a subway once by a dude in dreads— could it be? Nah. 

Syesha is next in line, still looking for balance in her stilettos as the video rolls. Note to the otherwise lovely soul sister: please stop with the creepy baby laugh. It totally freaks me out. I'm talking, like, night terrors. Enough! As for her performance, I found it a bit predictable, but more than competent. The audience was definitely giving her plenty of love, even if the arm sways were unnecessary. Compliments were plentiful after her go-round, and Syesha broke out a little jig of joy. Very cute.

Even cuter? Jason Castro's birthday surprise during the break. We didn't quite know what was going on. All I could hear was Debbie screaming into her headpiece, "Ryan, I need you... now!" and then sat bewildered as the 10 finalists were brought back to the stage. But once the band broke into the happy birthday song, we all got the picture. Out walks Ryan with a huge blue and white cake and announces that today is Jason's 21st birthday, then tries to get Jason to actually dip his head into the icing. And get all that gook in his hair? Jason wasn't having it, but he did wet his beak, as it were, and proceeded to walk offstage with a blaring blue spot on his nose. Those Idol kids, they're craaaazy!

"We're partying now," Corey declared as the crowd settled back into place, while Paula, running a bit behind from her brief break, trips and nearly falls. How apropos. But she makes it back in time for Chikezie, who we've all gathered by now, is her season 7 Elliott Yamin. Unfortunately, it was another snoozer of a performance, which left me wondering, were there no up-tempo options for the early '80s? How about some Duran Duran, people? Or a little "Careless Whisper?" You can't go wrong with George Michael. The judges weren't too hard on him, though. And I'm now convinced that Simon simply likes saying the name Chikezie, maybe that's enough reason to keep him around.

As Chikezie exits the stage, a grand piano is wheeled on for Brooke White's performance, and Randy and Simon confer while it's shined. Ryan, meanwhile, heads to the tower for the next intro. Brooke practices a bit before the show goes live again and it's hard to make out which song she might sing. No matter what she chooses, Brooke's got class, and looking a bit like Ivanka Trump, has an air of confidence about her that can't be denied. And it's precisely that self-assurance that makes her false start not that big a deal. She worked it out, as Randy would say, and pulled it off.

Still, I'm jonesing for some rock at this point since all these ballads are making me drowsy. Fortunately, Michael Johns relieves that itch with his bombastic Queen medley. Hell, even Ricky Minor was pumping his fist into the air and motioning for the crowd to get up off their asses. And did they ever oblige. Johns is another fan favorite, it seems, made all the more appealing whenever his shirt creeps up to show a little skin. The screams are, at this point, deafening and his competitive side is loving it. Sure enough, it was probably his most memorable performance thus far.

And for the ultimate rock one-two punch, up next is Carly, who also elicited some serious applause long before she hit her first note. There's something very endearing about Carly, and while I'm still a bit befuddled by the fact that they've yet to mention her former attempt at stardom, there's no denying she can carry a tune — any tune — like nobody's business. But I can't help thinking, as I've written before, that she does have a bit of an advantage, simply because she's been taught to work a crowd. Then again, there's nothing like an embarrassing childhood picture (even if it was shot professionally) to draw out the sympathy vote, and those unruly curls may have clinched it for Carly. But back to the singing: she was great. Like, leap years beyond the rest. And the thing about Carly is she makes it look effortless. I couldn't tell if she was nervous, it almost seemed like just another day at the bar. Still, the vocal gymnastics at the end were unnecessary and kind of killed the momentum. Not everyone can be Beyoncé, girls, and some shouldn't even try. As she gets her critique, Carly fusses with her dress, which, due to its apparent tightness, had wiggled its way up several inches, and when the comments are mediocre, you can almost hear the crowd collectively gasp— or maybe that was in response to her bathroom mention, which I couldn't quite make out. Too much information? Probably, but that seems like Carly's way.

Looking a little defeated, Carly exits and now comes the big moment. The girls up front are getting restless, sign holders are at attention and you just know little David Archuleta is about to walk through that side door. Once again, the applause-o-meter is in the red. As David gets interviewed by Ryan, girls are pleading out loud, "Take me to the prom!" David attempts to concentrate, but the screams don't stop. That is, until he starts singing and everyone looks around helplessly, obviously thinking, "What song is this?" It's a random Australian hit, as it turns out, and one I vaguely remember hearing on New York's WPLJ in the mid-'80s. It was forgettable then and just as much so now. Still, he gets an enthusiastic standing ovation, which seems to bewilder some of the judges. Indeed, Paula actually strays from the script for a moment: bluntly asking why he couldn't have picked an American song. And Simon's take is that it could have been a theme park performance, with which I totally agree. It was not David's night — maybe he'll be able to make it to his May prom after all. 

It's time for another breather, as the judges exit and even Debbie the stage manager takes a seat on the tower stairs. Two more to go, and next up is Kristy Lee Cook, who's teetering on the brink of elimination. It was not lost on this crowd that tonight is her make it or break it moment. We've all concluded by this point that Carrie Underwood she's not, but there's still something sweet about KLC and it was obvious that people are still rooting for her. As for her song, "God Bless the USA," reaction was decidedly mixed. I saw a lot of eyes rolling, and some teary one, too. Did she sing it well? It was actually a bit shaky from where I sat, but there's no doubt this "clever" choice was designed to drum up the patriot vote and mobilize Southern support. After all, that's how you win Idol, right?

Will she stay another week? That's still a bit iffy, but David Cook (pictured) most certainly will. He took the stage looking happy and ready, pointing to his baby photo and laughing, then getting serious in an instant. As the music kicked in, I had this sense of dread, that he was going to pull out the acoustic version of "Livin' on a Prayer" or something, but he ended up surprising us all. His twist on "Billie Jean" was the performance of the night and had Nigel Lythgoe dancing in the aisles, Paula on her feet, and the rest of the room grooving along. To say that it went over well would be a massive understatement. "You might be the one," Randy hollered at the end (a sentiment he repeated some three hours later when I ran into him at a nearby restaurant) to the rousing approval of the rest of the room. Insane or amazing? How about both?

And so the evening ended on a major high note, as Ramiele ran out to hug David, and the rest of the Top 10 filed in for one final goodbye. I ducked out a little early to retrieve my Blackberry and ran into Danny Noriega outside looking for where to pick up his (no special cell phone privileges even for ex-contestants!). We both headed to the backstage door, where the Idols come out to sign autographs and pose with fans. Tonight's crowd is bigger than usual because the Jonas Brothers just played on Dancing With the Stars and some of their leftover fans stuck around in hopes of getting a glimpse at David A. But it was David C. who got the extra-special attention tonight, as you could see when dozens of fans clamored for a moment. Actually, both Davids — as well as Jason Castro, who didn't seem at all fazed by his performance — were being pulled in every direction and certainly look to be the fan favorites. KLC, staying true to her theme, handled the line of fans almost as if she was a campaigning politician (Hillary could learn a thing or two from Kristy). Still, I couldn't help but overhear one waiting gentleman who asked a girl standing next to him, "What's her name? Kimberly?" But the one that stood out for me was Brooke, who seems like just a genuine person. "I was so happy for Kristy, I ran up to her after she got off stage," she said, sharing the love. As for her own performance? "I'm happy because last week was so hard on me." I'm telling you, the gal's got class and that goes a loooong way.

So who's heading home tonight? I'd put my money on Ramiele. What do you guys think?