You can’t see me right now, but if you could, you’d see this big ass grin as I dance a jig of happiness in the living room. Yes, my man Taylor Hicks won American Idol.
My faith in the general public’s musical… tastes… has been at least partially restored. He was the oldest contestant, had performing experience, and is a genuinely smart and nice guy. He’s also fabulously entertaining.
The world of corporate schlock pop music has been overrun with vapid bouncing blonde bimbos. Pop songs are being written by the same two or three writers, produced by the same handful of music moguls, and fed to us in tasty, sweet, but utterly unsatisfying three minute dosages.
The public is ready for a throwback to soulful and smart performances. Taylor is the man to do it. Wonderful that he might be the guy who gets a new generation of music fans to listen to artists like the Doobie Brothers, Elton John, Ray Charles, Joe Cocker and the like.
And while I’m on the American Idol train of thought, I’d like to officially start a movement to allow the AI producers to put on the next Grammy’s award show. The pacing was fantastic, the musical numbers were stunning, and unlike a couple of finales in AI’s history, I wasn’t bored for a moment.
They collected together on the same stage
- Al Jarreau
- Meatloaf (I don’t think his monitor was working, because he sounded awful)
- Toni Braxton
- Mary J Blige
- Live (which came first, Chris Daughtry or Ed? Ed. Definitely Ed.)
- Dionne Warwick (older than dirt, sounds exactly the same)
- Burt Bacharach (I didn’t realize he wrote What’s New Pussycat?)
- Carrie Underwood
- Clay Aiken (What in bloody hell was up with his hair?)
- and Prince!
Don’t worry Katherine McPhee, your career will be long and rewarding, too… but Taylor wins. Taylor WINS!
::needs a cigarette::