Yes, I watched American Idol last night. No, I didn’t blog along during the show. Blame it on my cold: I was asleep within minutes of the show ending which, I suppose, is better than having fallen asleep during. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t recall thinking that the entire show sucked — not even Sanjaya, really — so I decided to watch it again. You know, in case I’d hallucinated the entire thing.

Haley: Trampy little thing, isn’t she. Great legs. Simon correctly opined that people would not be discussing her actual performance today. It was wholly unmemorable aside from the horrid absence of personal dignity.

Chris R.: Color me surprised. I’d prepared myself for yet another bouncing bobble-head performance and instead Chris treated us all to a rather excellent display of vocal control and phrasing. Pity he can’t shake that nasal sound, though.

Stephanie: When Stephanie first to sing, I couldn’t tell if she was trying to be dramatic or suffering from a bad case of stage fright. I still don’t know, to be honest. Her voice should have perfectly suited Dusty Springfield’s song, but something about the whole performance was… off.

Blake: Oh my. My, my, my. What a wonderful way to modernize an old Zombies tune! At times, Blake actually sounds quite a bit like Sting… without the post-Tantric-confessions smarm factor. If the females’ fan-base gets too split in the Lakisha-Melinda vote, Blake might very well win!

Lakisha: Lakisha is beginning to strike me much as Paris did last season: a young girl coming across as dowdy due to poor song choices and odd stage presence. I didn’t enjoy her song this week, diamonds or no.

Phil: Only the Animals can make “Tobacco Road” feel like a British invasion song. Phil’s rendition sounded more like a bar band — although a very good bar band — closing their first set. Style note: while everyone else on the show makes at least a stab at “dressing up” (even Chris Sligh, who’s bound to look geeky in whatever he wears), but not Phil. Which, frankly, only reinforces his bar-singer persona. Not good.

Jordin: What a wonderful performance… and what a surprise, too. As Simon noted last week, Jordin’s beginning to remind folks that there are more than two women singing well this season. (Note to Stephanie: No, dear, you’re still not one of them.)

Sanjaya: Who’d have thought, prior to last night, that Sanjaya would actually attempt a Kinks’ tune? Or that I would voluntarily listen to him sing not once, not twice, but darned near four times in a row? Well, I had to, you see: each time he started trying to act like a ‘rocker,’ I couldn’t actually hear him sing over the sound of my own laughter. Then the camera panned to that poor little girl whose alleged “tears of joy” looked more like someone just stole her last piece of candy. Again and again and again. Poor little girl. Poor Sanjaya. Poor America if he doesn’t get voted off tonight!

Gina: Love the new ‘do. Love the song — “Paint it Black.” Unfortunately, I didn’t love her performance of it. Oh, she’s got a nice, big, rocking voice — which utterly overpowered the drama and nuance in this song. Pity, that.

Chris Sligh: Increasingly, I find myself closing my eyes to listen to Chris Sligh. That’s about the only way I can appreciate his vocals without being distracted by his baggy pants (Lord, please don’t let them fall off!) and disheveled sports coat. This week, Chris was very listenable: having been trounced over his arrangement of “Endless Love” last week (blech), he most definitely played it safe doing a nice, conservative performance this week. Still, I miss his quirky vocal darings.

Melinda: I want to say something nice about Melinda. I truly do. Unfortunately, I’m finding her increasingly boring. How awful is that? Excellent vocals? Check. Perfect pitch? Check. Dramatic phrasing and sense of drama in the song? Check again. In fact, she’s quite close to perfect… if you like ballads, since — with the exception of “W-O-M-A-N” a few weeks back — that’s all she’s sung. I’d like to hear something from her that’s a bit more contemporary, but chances are she’ll stick with the safe tunes she knows she’s already mastered. (On another, snarky note: her missing neck is starting to bother me. Really.)

UPDATE: Thoughts from David J., along with a passionate plea to parents of teeny-bopper girls. And from Sgt. Hook: the real American Idols.

UPDATE TWO: More (including video clips) from The Anchoress who, like me, is growing weary of Melinda’s song choices even if we do love her voice.

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