'80s Week on American Idol
It is with a heavy heart that I contemplate another week spent in front of my television, cursing under each breath as the most untalented group of misfits ever assembled takes to the airwaves to butcher the songs that I love so dearly.
Yes, it's 80s Week on American Idol. (I felt a great disturbance in the force, as if a million Sanjayas cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. Hopefully in some very painful manner.)
Some of my clever colleagues here at the St. Pete Times have already cooked up a list of song suggestions for each of the 16 remaining contestants. But I have my own list ... of course.
80s SONGS WE MOST FEAR TO HEAR THIS WEEK:
LITTLE RED CORVETTE (Prince): Probably tied with "Kiss" for most likely song by the "Artist Who Formerly Would Have Nothing To Do With American Idol." I just wonder if the lyrics can make it past the Fox censors.
BLACK VELVET (Alannah Myles): Released on a 1989 album, so it barely makes the cut. Easily one of the most unbearable songs of our lifetimes, whomever picks this tune should be automatically booted from the show by the time he or she reaches the first chorus.
BEDS ARE BURNING (Midnight Oil): Can Aussie Michael Johns lay off a beloved tune from his homeland? He better, if he wants my vote.
CRIMSON AND CLOVER (Joan Jett version): Everyone figures Amanda Overmyer will go for Joan Jett -- and I agree. But in a surprise move, she'll grab the wrong song, picking this wretched remake originally performed by Tommy James and the Shondells. And unless she gets arrested for indecent exposure outside my place of business, I can't see her sticking around another week.
I WANT CANDY (Bow Wow Wow): In a dream last night, I could see Danny Noriega prancing around stage with giant candy-canes -- his hair pulled up in Annabella Lwin mohawk style. And the American Idol band hopelessly trying catch up -- without throwing up. (I don't sleep well these days.)
Tune into Sean Daly's Pop Life blog tonight at 8pm for a live chat during the show. I'll be there, chatting along, trying desperately to stop the dry heaves.