I doubt its Kellies last time in the lime light!!
One last moment for 'Idol' finalists to shine
Review: For all but Taylor and maybe Chris, the 'American Idols' tour seems a de facto farewell to the limelight.
By BEN WENER
The Orange County Register
A quote from Kellie Pickler, just before the latest "American Idols Live!" parade of fleetingly famous finalists paused for intermission Saturday at Staples Center, adding down-home spin to a line virtually every performer parroted: "It's amazing how much your life can change in a year! One day I'm a roller-skating waitress at a Sonic Drive-In. Now people are interested in me!"
Allow me to extend her astonishment: "And a year from now, unless the CW casts me as the ditzy girl-next-door with a food phobia in a 'Reba' rehash, or a revealing Maxim spread leads to a G-string of bit parts in trashy teen comedies as a naughty little … oh, gosh, what's that word? Mink? Minx? I still don't know why Simon called me that."
Oh, dear, she's sidetracked again. What she meant to say was this: Even though she has a country album due in November, in another year Kellie Pickler will be a faint memory.
As will Mandisa and Ace and (sorry, homegirl) Lisa and probably Paris and Elliott and even Katharine and definitely Bucky. This time next year they will have been replaced by the next batch of average-to-exceptional vocalists, who will still command a corner of our shrinking attention spans, simply because we just rooted and voted for them on the sixth season of the world's most popular game show.
By that time, you'd have better luck finding a Diana DeGarmo CD than catching Bucky Covington singing "Superstition" anywhere other than a bar in North Carolina, where in another decade he'll be serving drinks. Don't believe me? Five words and a date: Bo Bice at the Grove, Oct. 18. Four more: "The Fantasia Barrino Story."
Really, if LaToya London and George Huff and Jasmine Trias and John Stevens have taught us anything, it's that a) anyone can put out a record, and b) weekly exposure to tens of millions of TV viewers is perhaps the least important factor in becoming a star. Their failures at post-"Idol" careers underscore just how few "winners" this juggernaut has produced.
The pair from Season 5? Well, Taylor Hicks, of course, though as with Bo he runs the risk of having his soul-patrol appeal Clive Davis-ed out of him. But Taylor's lack of dynamism might also be his downfall. All he did at Staples (and surely did again Sunday at the Pond) was dance spastically, blow some harmonica and holler through '70s faves like "Living for the City" and "Hollywood Nights" and his lousy, forced-on-him single "Do I Make You Proud?" Is he capable of anything more?
There issomething about him that can light up an arena, however; pandemonium nearly broke out when he emerged at the end of the night among the crowd singing "Jailhouse Rock." The only other "Idol" to garner such a response? Chris Daughtry, the bald rocker who was wise to turn down Fuel's invitation to join up, for he clearly doesn't need the help to make a name for himself.
Granted, if his future involves regurgitating variations of Bon Jovi and Styx, his choices here, then I don't want his tracks anywhere near my iPod. But his intense charisma and hearty voice, which outshined his male counterparts on Guns N' Roses' "Patience" late in the show, might carry him a long way with both standard "Idol"-ators and the sort that merely withstand the bland pop moves of most contestants.
Squealing fans always give away the game: No one else measured up on the shriek-o-meter. But Elliott Yamin came close; if there's a wild card among this lot, it's him. At the very least, his remakes of Elvis and Luther Vandross reminded that such an odd little fellow can wail. He clearly deserved his third-place finish.
Come to think of it, he should have beaten Katharine McPhee, who this night was dull reviving her usual fare barefoot in a poorly draped dress: "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree," "Think," "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."
She's Broadway-bound, of course, as is Lisa Tucker, who was perfectly plastic on her Stevie Wonder opener but too rudimentary on piano during a pair of unwise Elton John selections. ("Someone Saved My Life Tonight" is waybeyond her, and well over the heads of this "tweener"-heavy audience. Then again, so was Ace's ringer, George Michael's psychosexual "Father Figure.")
Once Paris stops shaking her booty like Beyoncé, she'll turn to gospel, maybe form a duo with Mandisa and her mighty pipes. Bucky and Kellie are simply hopeless, as a hapless duet on "You're the One That I Want" showed; I've seen better performances at high-school talent contests.
But, then, this really isn't intended as a serious showcase of superior singing. It's formulaic family fun from Pop Tarts that starts just after 7 and ends before 10. Mostly it's a means to keep these faces fresh in youngster's minds before they join Julia DeMato in oblivion.
All it does for me is make me wish the sixth season started when they go back to school.
this writer seems a little grouchy. She obviously doesn't know talent because Kellie ROCKS!!!
One last time for 'Idol' finalists to shine
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