We can't get no satisfaction from American Idol

2.27.2009

By Noah Michelson

This week’s results show offered tears and more: tossed contestant Matt Giraud’s seething rage. His own fault, really, for sabotaging his genuine talent by butchering a Coldplay song. Silly rabbit, Coldplay songs suck enough by themselves already. They barely need your help to be worse. He’ll be wild-carded back in next week, though.

The adorable little red-haired 16-year-old girl made it through. Allison Something. And some other people whose names I still haven’t learned. That new cute guy named Kris that we’ve barely seen until now is in.

And so is… Adam (pictured above). You know, the one who probably plays for our team. The one with the Fallout Boy hair. It’s the kind of hair you want to punch. But it’d probably break your fist, just like that bulletproof weave that’s all over the internet right now. Then you’d have a broken hand. And to make the boo-boo feel better Adam would launch through his mental Rolodex of Broadway show tunes, cross-referencing the genre against lyrics about shattered limbs. And you know he’d come up with something, too. Yes, he can sing. A staggering amount of singing blasts from those lungs. But there is nothing about this former cast member of Wicked that isn’t rehearsed until all the life is squozened right out it, then revived to the brink of tsunami-level force again with a head flip and a hit-the-balcony howl launched by that Gene Simmons tongue he’s got.

His version of The Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction is exactly what happens when you learn everything you know about rock and roll from seeing Rent and Spring Awakening over and over. But it will be worth having him around to see if he keeps doing that weird Jame Gumb move where he feels himself up on stage.  Go watch his clip again. It’s like a PSA for testicular cancer self-examinations, and hell, we can always use the reminder.

-- DAVE WHITE

Previously > American Idol is for sissies

Tags: Popnography
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