Tim Urban - American IdolFinally, the top 12.

This is when I start to perk up and give a damn. And I think that's a valid approach to this show. Why bother investing yourself in learning their names or caring about their fates until they have a better shot at becoming a relevant media presence? You might as well try memorizing the names of contestants on The Price Is Right.

If you've read these recaps for a few years (and followed it as it bounced from one site to another before landing here at the clearly superior QueerSighted) then you know that at least once during a season I wind up visiting my family in Texas and getting their perspective on the show, a perspective that's usually diametrically opposed to my own. This week for example, as the show forced the kids into an ill-fitting Rolling Stones theme, I harbored a secret wish that someone, maybe Siobhan, would trot onstage and launch into "Sister Morphine" or "Bitch" or "Cocksucker Blues." One of the naughty Rolling Stones songs. I knew that was never going to happen, but it made me smile to myself. On their living room couch, my sister-in-law, seated next to my 8 year-old niece, simply said, "I don't know any Rolling Stones songs, and I don't like them."

The show began with Seacrest introducing a clip package explaining that this group of extremely skinny men, whose combined ages equal one half of a millennium, are beloved by millions. Then the video goes on to delve into their adorably decadent sexual lives, drug careers, and occult practices. That last sentence I just wrote is obviously a lie. Because while the Rolling Stones did, in fact, do all those things, American Idol is pretending their career was all about how this one time they wrote a song for a Whoopi Goldberg movie, the one where she wears all the Reeboks.

Then came more video teaching moments, one for each singer (all about their hometowns and families, by the way, the better to further draw your attention away from the scary bad-boy-Beatles vibe struggling to ooze up through the cracks of CBS Television City's cement floor). The clip packages were necessary because Keith Richards was not about to come on and make like Lulu or Bon Jovi with the mentoring. Because Keith Richards is busy drinking.

Big Mike's mom died when he was a boy, which may or may not be why he sang "Miss You" and turned it into not only something it's kind of not but -- damn him and his residual "This Woman's Work" goodwill -- also something that I'd maybe want to listen to again after allowing pop culture to make me numb to it. It excites Seacrest so much that he tries to wrap both his hands around Mike's bicep. This proves difficult. In Seacrest's defense, most octopi would have similar difficulty dealing with that fellow's circumference.

Didi Benami has a crazy-looking smiling dog and a mother with split ends. After lulling you into a sense of Walmart-y sleepiness with that bit of news, she pounces on stage to sing "Playing With Fire" and the whole thing is flashing red lights and urgent snarling while she bears her anger-teeth. After the song we learn that she's lived in Los Angeles for a bit (something about having "been in this town a long time") and that she's pretty careerist about it all and has been taking notes on Siobhan's M.O.

I love Casey James's mom because she seems like one of those really tough-but-sweet bar band ladies who lived kinda hard and likes tequila and still wears her hair all crispy and maybe boned Townes Van Zandt once or seven times. Casey sings "It's All Over Now," and I just sit on the couch and say "Bo Bice!" as many times as it takes for someone in the room to laugh at MY TOTALLY FUNNY JOKE ABOUT THEIR SIMILARITIES. DANG.

The judges respond weirdly. Ellen says something about being a lesbian. Simon actually wants Casey to be more "incredible."

Lacey Brown, we learn, is from Amarillo and grew up singing in one of those all-white Evangelical churches with "Victory" in the name. As a Texan who's been to Amarillo, I can tell you that if anyone from any church ever comes up to you and starts throwing the word "victory" around, you better run like hell. You can't trust those folks. As for Lacey, she seems sweet if trapped by her upbringing, like maybe she's really "alt" for Amarillo, and all the victorious church pals she knows are fond of telling her how "unique" and "different" she is. But when she sings "Ruby Tuesday", you just know she picked it because she likes to eat at that restaurant. The part where the lyrics go "still I'm gonna miss you" is the moment she decides to mush them all together into one multisyllabic chorus of a song you'd maybe hear on an episode of The Wiggles. Also, she's wearing something that appears to be a bustier over a stripey lycra Pat Benatar top. Victory!

I've given Straight Up Andrew plenty of chances to make me interested in him again but he's slowly revealing his lack of inspiration. That's why I'm happy that they distracted me away from him this week with his awesome ex-gangsta parents. More of them, please. His Dad tells the camera that he assumed Andrew would become a custodian, which is the kind of real-life tangible job you think about having after you have your exit interview with the head of HR for the department of robbing and murdering random strangers and/or other gang members. As his Dad weeps the details of his low-level-yet-dignified dreams for his son, Andrew's mother sits there stoically scowling, silent, seemingly annoyed that her baby boy chose a life path that does not include a tattoo reading, "Smile Now, Cry Later."

Little Katie Stevens grew up on YouTube. We see the clip. Because that's what's happening with kids today. Their every move is documented online. That coming-home-from-the-dentist boy is going to be featured on a VH1 special when he turns 21, alongside every other 10-second-celebri-tot. The show will be called Shit You Will Never Live Down, because by then you'll just be able to say "shit" on TV in the middle of the afternoon, and no one will care. Little Katie Stevens sings "Wild Horses" because of how you couldn't drag her away from American Idol if you tried, something about how "this is my time." Randy calls it a very strong performance, which is Randyspeak for "I'm bored." Kara picks up Randy's baton of effusive, hyperbolic praise and runs with it, yawning, "...a nice variation on the melody and better than last week."

Tim Urban is from Duncanville, Tex., which is a suburb of Dallas. His parents made a lot of babies. He's got like nine siblings or something. This smells homeschoolish to me. They seem like one of those families where being "nice" is the most important thing, so of course Tim sings "Under My Thumb," one of the Rolling Stones' meaner songs. He turns it into reggae happy hour at one of those Jimmy Buffett chain eateries. This could actually be the very worst thing I've ever seen on American Idol. I know that's a lot of things to be worse than. He will, of course, sail on through.

I have family in Cape Cod and it turns out that my renegade 22-year-old tattooed niece who lives up there knows Siobhan. I found that out today talking to my niece on Facebook. Santa Claus also knows Siobhan. I found that out from her clip package. It could just be her grandfather, of course, it's not like they tagged him on video. But I just sort of like to pretend that she's related to Santa Claus. And that her father was in the Commitments. Because based on the pack of walking oddities that make up her personality, anything is possible. In keeping with this, she sings "Paint it Black." Strobes! Hellfire! Screeching! I really dig this girl. And she crosses culture divides, too, as I discover that my conservative sister-in-law likes her as well.



Lee DeWyze is the football player guy on Glee. You sort of want to scratch him behind the ears and watch his leg go thwap-thwap-thwap involuntarily. I have no idea what song he sang. I think it was better than whatever Paige Miles did. While she performed I spent two minutes missing Melinda Doolittle. Then the little terrified mouse-boy came on. They fixed his hair so now instead of looking like a freshly mowed and gelled lawn, it resembles a field of grass trampled by grazing cattle. Good move there, Idol hairstylists, keep making sure all the guys really do share something with Ellen besides a love of chicks, something to look back on in 10 years and be mortified by. Terrified mouse-boy sang "Angie" and did not stink up the place in the process. Way to go, kid, whatever your name is.

In the 12th spot, Crystal, feathered roachclip affixed to the part of her hair she actually washes, sang "You Can't Always Get What You Want." She's so good and relaxed she makes me think her dreadlocks don't smell like patchouli and B.O.



What happened on the Results Show:

David Cook sang the song from that Whoopi Goldberg movie.

David Cook talked about how "stoked" he was for his upcoming CD.

David Cook revealed that the new CD would have "really low lows and really high highs."

The kids sang a song by the Hives for the Ford commercial.

The Ford commercial made it look like you can now buy a Ford with your own custom paint job stenciled onto it.

Stools. Heh heh heh.

I returned to my ongoing habit of looking for Manchurian Candidate–style secret gestures coming from the judges.

Orianthi sang a song with the word "you" in the title. Comment from my 8 year-old niece: "Her bangs are ugly." Comment from my 44 year-old brother: "This is like that Kelly Clarkson song about something with 'you.'"

My response: "Yes, I can see how you might find that confusing."

The roachclip in Crystal's hair migrated to a new spot. Comment from my sister-in-law: "What do people do with those anyway?" Also, "Have you ever shopped at Earthbound Trading Company?"

The Bottom 3 are Lacey, Paige, and Tim. This leads to the biggest non-shock of the night: Lacey leaves, and Tim is safe. Because being adorable means that you can do anything you want in this life: murder, theft, singing "Under My Thumb" like how UB4O would do it, anything.

Actual shock of the night: My entire family knows and enjoys the music of Ke$ha.