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Tell them ‘Storm Large’ sent ‘ya

Week three of rock star: supernova. A singularly lackluster set of performances. Maybe I was just in a bad mood from having to wash dishes that had contained “taco soup”, a 50/50% soup/cheese concoction that requires a sandblaster to remove from fiesta-ware.

There were weeks like this last season with INXS, too — the doldrums. There are something like 13 participants left, and what’s depressing is that at least 8-10 of these people need to go before we got to something approximating a real contest. Seriously. Unless some C-players start bringing A-game.

Without anything specific to criticize below and beyond the widespread mediocrity of last night’s show, I’ll provide a quick run-through. This will be neither pretty, nor inspired:

Zayra — Kelley and I agree you didn’t have a bottom three song picked out last week, leading to the baffling move of doing the same song on wednesday that band railed you for the night before. That is such b.s., girl. I know that since you’re from… wherever you’re from… you look down on us Americans. I’d suggest moving to a 100% Stevie Nicks performance track. Stand back! I need a little sympathy! But now you’re doing REM and the band says they like it. A lot of times I want to slap people when they say, “I’m confused”, because it’s really a passive-agressive way of saying “you’re not expressing yourself sufficiently well”, but I’m so confused.

Jenny — aka Aimee Mann, except not rock. You are so not rock. This doesn’t mean you’re a bad musician or performer, but you are anti-Tommy Lee, in the anti-matter is anti-matter sense. Now you’re doing Stone Temple Pilots. You rock about 1/12th as hard as Alanis Morissette. You’re going out. I swear to you. You’re going down. Tonight.

Storm — The best-looking female on the show by far. And my gaydar is screaming. The forecast is in: a storm’s coming and it’s gonna be: h-o-t. Cool it down, you got to cool it now… ooooh — watch out!, you’re gonna lose control! Oh, those links are probably nsfw.

Ryan — You’re constipated, dude.

That Australian Guy — Where were you last season?

Phil — You’re not rock, Phil, but a ray of light was shed last night when you stepped up to do White Rabbit. The only problem is (as any H.S.Thompson fan knows) this song is all about when it peaks, and little else. You built, you built, Newstead (coked up?) was with you. You were there, forming it, playing with it, the radio was about to be thrown in the bath tub… and you failed to peak with the song. You blew it. Pfffrrrrtt. Stop delaying the inevitable and turn in your torch. But then again, you have a lot of tattoos. Who are you, Phil?

Patrice — You are a Sheryl Crow wannabe leatherwoman.

Dana — You’re cute, there’s nothing wrong with your body and 80% of your quasi-fetus moon child face. You are just not rock, though; you look so uncomfortable up there. And you wouldn’t last twenty minutes in the clutches of Tommy Lee. This is a guy who, on a bet, went over a month without bathing — according to his own auto-biography, which was co-written with his phallus. This is not for you, not for you…

Magni — You need to start doing Judas Priest songs exclusively, dude. Only then will your true potential be unlocked, like when Neo gets killed at the end of the first Matrix and realizes it’s all not real.

Lukas — I (once again) voted for you (five times) last night, but at the week three mark it’s pretty clear that we’re not seeing Lukas, per se, but the Lukas-Rock-Persona that is the only form Lukas can take. It would be nice to see under the veil, but I so know you’re a ringwraith.

Josh — Kelley’s right: you sound like Tracy Chapman, dude. I was drivin’, drivin’ in your car. You jumped out of the car and got out of the car. Eject.

Jill — Mrs. Tommy Lee #4 (5?) Penthouse… .com.

Dilana — You, along with Lukas, are the only two people who are actually in competition here. The funny thing is that when you’re not making terrifying faces, and you let your face relax, is how cute you are. But you have way too much s**t in your face.

Finally, Dave and Tommy have lost their minds (thanks Neil for the link), which is what I expect from Tommy… but somehow I continue to expect more from Dave. Again, I think it all goes back to “mountain song”: coming down the mountain! DA-DA-DUH-DAH-DAH-DUH-DA-DAH-DUH-DUH-DAH-DAH!

Better luck next week. Let’s hope, at a minimum, more than one player goes home tonight. Sorry, guys.

[1] I write this while watching Wednesday night’s elimination show.