American Idol 7 - Top 10 Perform

After two weeks of doing more damage to The Beatles than Yoko, Linda and Heather combined, this week the newly crowned American Idol Top 10 were forced to sing songs from the year of their births. That means it's basically 80s/early 90s night on Idol, and chile (thank you, Amanda Overmyer) don't this make me feel old. I was in high school and college when most of the contestants were sliding down the birth canal.

I keep hearing the contestants don't always get to sing the songs they want, because sometimes they can't get clearance from the label/artist/publisher to perform the tune. Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart should never have to make another record or tour again...they can just live off the royalties from contestants butchering Alone. Earlier this afternoon, TMZ published the list of songs and I have to admit I started vomiting in my mouth a little. Now I just have dry heaves. Oh, and what kind of Audrey Hepburn on crack kinda outfit was Paula Abdul wearing? That cheap, sparkling gown was one thing, but those fingerless, elbow-length gloves with the cubic zirconia bling was a pill too far.

Ramiele Malubay: What was she thinking picking Heart's Alone? Carly has already sang the hell out of it, and you need a great big ol' voice to reach the emotion of Ann Wilson. Randy said it was a pitchy mess, Paula gave her a pass for being sick (Ramiele said her voice had gone "bye-bye"...awwww...vomit) and Simon, obviously playing mind games with the audience, said she wasn't that bad. Not so much how do we get you alone, Ramiele, but how do we get you off this show is the question.

Jason Castro: Ummm...was the pretty, pretty lady stoned tonight? He was so incoherent after boring the hell out of me with Sting's Fragile, that I was having Cheech and Chong flashbacks. It was like being at a coffee house in Amsterdam with a second-rate Ani DiFranco. Simon said the guitar playing was clumsy and he sounded like a busker outside of a subway station. I've been to London, and I've heard better buskers than Miss Castro.

Syesha Mercado: After several weeks of being on the verge of going home, Syesha rallied with a pitch-perfect cover of Stephanie Mills' If I Were Your Woman. The vocal was strong, controlled and totally on the mark. Randy and Paula loved it, while Simon found fault with the end of the song. Again, mind games.

Chikezie: Hello, my name is Collin, and I'll be your cruise director. On the top deck, we have shuffle board, miniature golf and water aerobics. In the Princess Lounge, Chikezie will be singing the hits of Luther Vandross for the rest of his life. In the spa, there will be pedicures, massages, colonics...

Brooke White: Oh, Brooke, Brooke, Brooke... I wanted you to knock The Police's Every Breath You Take out of the park, but it was mostly swing-and-a-miss. She flubbed the opening and started again, playing solo on the piano. It sounded great and then she hit the chorus and the band joined in with an elevator music arrangement that totally killed the song. I still love her. She seems like the only real contestant on the show. I want her to have another "wow" moment like when she sang Let It Be, which was the highlight of The Beatles debacle.

Michael Johns: The judges were practically masturbating over the hunky Aussie's weird medley of Queen's We Will Rock You and We Are the Champions. Maybe when they listen again, they will hear what I heard: a shouty, pitchy, voice-cracking mess. Even when the late, great Freddie Mercury sang these hits, they had all the subtlety of a jackhammer. The amount of praise -- even Simon said he had "star power" -- heaped upon Johns was unwarranted.

Carly Smithson: Oh, Carly, Carly, Carly...not only did you screw up the lyrics (I made my parents take me immediately to Kmart to buy this 45 in 1983 and I know every single word and nuance...trust), but you looked totally constipated while singing Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart. Maybe that's what prompted the bizarre exchange between her and Gaycrest after Simon called her performance "tense." Carly, trying to be sarcastic, said she went to the toilet beforehand and Gaycrest asked if she flushed. Ouch. Yeah, she flushed, all right...flushed her way to the bottom three.

David Archuleta: What kind of socially conscious, up with people piece of pablum was this? You're the Voice? Does anyone remember this song? Anyone, anyone, Bueller, Buller... Simon said it was like a theme park performance surrounded by animated characters. Tellingly, he also doubted if little David picked this song himself. Cut to crazy, hovering stage dad in the audience. Uh-huh.

Kristy Lee Cook: Simon praised her "clever" decision to sing the schmaltzy, cliched, conservative national anthem, God Bless The USA. This Reagan-era, Cold War relic is rolled out every Fourth of July at the fireworks display and Kristy Lee was definitely pandering to the homeland faithful for votes. Randy and Paula didn't dare diss this..ummm...classic and Randy went so far as to call it her best performance ever. She's sticking around another week.

David Cook: Whacko Jacko's Billie Jean as frat rock? You betcha. Brave, stellar, amazing...just some of the praise heaped upon the worst comb over...or ever...in Idol history. Did he really do anything different than he's done the last two or three weeks? No. He took a song and turned it into a mix of broody emo and bombast. I just don't get the appeal. He sounds like a dozen other singers and bands on the radio now. Where's the originality? Oh, wait...this is American Idol.

Bottom three prediction: Ramiele, Chikezie and Carly.