I'm gonna miss you Syesha. Really.
You came on slow and cute, girl (loved that earthy, natural hair do and demeanor to match) and chased some seemingly brighter lights down the field. But then when they were all vanquished, you turned yourself (or was pushed into becoming) something else. Suddenly, the waif was a flashy, sassy Broadway star. And that was your undoing. The voters don't really like their Idol wannabees all polished to perfection. They prefer diamonds in the rough.
Like David Archuleta, our favorite little robotic teen idol. Yes, he's got the vocal thing down perfectly. He ain't street like Chris Brown, but he can do Billy Joel and Dan Fogelberg (RIP) with warmth and conviction. Then when he opens his mouth to speak - he's tongue tied, flustered, a little kid who can hardly string a sentence together. Just like the youngest fans who love him. And what's with that overly assertive dad, banned from backstage? Is he Papa Joe Jackson revisited, or what? No wonder the kid seems scared of his shadow.
David Cook, for all his rock and roll swagger, also has some finishing work left to do. He still looks like his girlfriend is cutting his hair, badly, with garden shears. And oddly, on that one song he picked to perform on final three night, Switchfoot's "Dare You To Move," the guy sounded tentative and wavering. So why in blazes did David do that one? I'm thinking he was sending an subtle SOS to Switchfoot's Contemporary Christian rock-lovin' constituency to rally round. But if that message didn't get through, Cook's closing, killer take of the night, the producer's choice of Aerosmith's "I Don't Want To Miss a Thing" fleshed out with a huge string section, sure telegraphed another message. Namely, that this guy was getting the royal treatment because he deserves to go to the finals
Syesha, you did fine on your last night. You looked as pretty and sounded as vocally adept as Alicia Keys on "If I Ain't Got You." But your "Fever" was the low grade variety they probably serve up on a cruise ship or at DisneyWorld. You didn't even dare to straddle that chair backwards, like I was expecting. And you were best on that last song ("Come Hit Me Up") from the penguin movie "Happy Feet." (Thanks for the ID, Paula.) Therein lies the problem. The producers gave you a number most people (present company included) won't connect with. I'm thinking they did that because, well, they wanted you forgotten and gone. For certain, Simon wanted that. And even the newly assertive and unusually spot-on Paula was throwing some dirt on the casket.
So nobody should be shocked, Wednesday night, when this hammer falls.