The ingenious thing about American Idol is obvious: Every season is a fresh start. If you love a season, you're glued to your seat. If you hate a season, you're even more excited for the next. It doesn't matter whether Simon Cowell,Mariah Carey, Steven Tyler, or Kara DioGuardi's mute aunt from Sioux City is on the judging panel; the stars of this juggernaut are the contestants, and the judges are merely carnival barkers and curators who instruct us where to fix our gaze and hurl our texts.
Season 12 marks one of the show's freshest starts: New judges Mariah Carey, Nicki Minaj, and Keith Urban value different and more distinct skills than their forebears Steven Tyler and Jennifer Lopez, and I'm torqued about it. Tyler and J-Lo were content to sit in awe of maudlin acts and proclaim most renditions "beautiful." On Wednesday's premiere, Nicki Minaj winced from beneath her bandleader hat to denounce unoriginality, Mariah Carey lauded the few contestants with singular tone, and Keith Urban had surprisingly helpful things to say about stage presence. This is a choosy crew, and the Idol producers know it: One contestant was presented to us with a hard-knock backstory about cancer and an amputated leg that normally would lead to a triumphant audition, but he instead he was unanimously rejected by this picky panel. That is unprecedented. It's also a little awkward, but I'm OK with feeling that way.
Before the charm of this new trio (and their spiritually dead babysitter Randy Jackson) wears off, let's select the best three renditions of the evening. Eight acts progressed, but only a few of those seemed like bona fide contenders. Here are the three that made me sit up in my Unqualified Judge's Throne. (Did I mention I'm tone deaf? It makes my reviews better, I swear.) And for the record, I never bother with the joke auditions that we're supposed to laugh off. I watch Idol for the meaty soulfulness inherent in a soulless reality show, not for unnecessary, condescending comedy. Duh.
1. Sarah Restuccio: Lady Slings the Blueberries
Not since Paris Bennett have I seen a two-song audition so charmingly unpredictable. Sarah Restuccio hails from a NJ village labeled "the blueberry capital of the world" (which officially makes New Jersey the Violet Beauregarden State), and she packed the tomboy appeal and sienna complexion of Al from Step by Step. The straightforward dame trilled Carrie Underwood's "Mama's Song," which is so generically "emotional" that I'm surprised it's not a hugely popular Lady Antebellum hit, but Sarah sold it with all sweetness, sincerity, and distinctly Caucasian gestures of a country balladeer. That was fine. Then, when prompted for a second song, she blurted out 20 bars of Nicki Minaj's "Super Bass," upped her Caucasian Gesture Count to a trillion, and proved once and for all that... she is not a born rapper. But whatever! This girl had zeal, and I liked that she could sacrifice virtuosic delivery for fun and still sound bearable doing it.
Keith Urban started on a dopey, Blake Shelton-style critique ("B-b-but I thought you only sang COUNTRY! Now I am CUHN-FUSED."), and Nicki Minaj pointed out that -- hey -- maybe singing country and rap is unusual enough to be cool. Frankly, I hate when singers on Idol only sing country. It's not 1991 anymore. Country, pop, hip-hop, and reggeaton don't exist in separate enclaves, and if you can only appreciate one of those genres at a time, you are a dated-ass relic from the pre-iTunes era. Sarah, you're A-OK with me. This is why you may thrive while the better-voiced season 11 Reba copycat Skylar Laine will continue to drive her ATV into obscurity.
2. Ashlee Feliciano: Carin' Bailey Rae
Would anyone like to tell me why Corinne Bailey Rae's "Put Your Records On" is one of the most sung tracks on Idol? It was not a hit. It was not even popular Starbucks muzak. Norah Jones was never scared for her career because of this song. Whatever the reason for its continued presence, delicate thang Ashlee Feliciano cooed and crooned it as well as I've ever heard it. She sorta copies Corinne's nasal delivery in the verses, but when she played around with the notes of the bridge, I gyrated in approval. Though Randy forced her to turn her gigantic family of foster siblings into television vaudeville, I still found her appeal and poise quite refreshing. She has a soul! She caaaaaaares. I don't know if she has the vision or nerve to make a killing on Idol, but for now she's sweetly encouraging some person named "Girl" to put her records on, and I don't want to throw my venti soy chai at her. I do want to her up the tempo and pizazz next time, though. Gimme Whitney Houston's "Million Dollar Bill," child. Win over some homos.
3. Angela Miller, the Sultana of Swing
Let's get one thing out of the way: Those are bike shorts under that skirt, I think. I don't know what's going on there. You have to be the elusive love interest in a 1988 Michael Jackson video to pull that off. But get this: Angela was my favorite performer of the evening, as she sauntered, swang, and sang like a woman who might belong onstage. WHAT. This brings me to my next point: I hate the performers who are crippled by nervousness. Go be a teacher or something, you know? The stage is for butter-colored narcissists like Mariah Carey, guys. Make no mistake. But Angela's jazzy ease and rich tone (which I can't hear, but I believe Dr. Mariah's evaluation) are winning qualities, and so far she's the only performer I can envision getting near the Top 10.
Are you psyched for this season? I am IN, y'all.
