So, they are going to drive the Beatles thing into the ground, eh? Let me go on record as saying that I don’t appreciate being compelled to blog twice in seven days, so you better bring it AI. If they really wanted to do this over several weeks, they should have broken it down into eras of Beatles development. They could have done the early Beatlemania/Hard Days Night thing, then the more introspective-pot-driven Beatles for Sale/Help!/Rubber Soul thing, then the LSD driven Revolver/Sgt. Pepper/Magical Mystery Tour thing, then the final-push-back-to-our-rock-roots Let It Be/Abbey Road thing. The White Album was kind of a hodge podge of all those themes, so why not do a night devoted just to that? On second thought, screw it, let’s just turn the television off and listen to those iconic albums.

Ryan starts out with a mini-history of the Beatles. He makes a couple of GLARING historical errors–the Beatles were huge in Britain before they ever came to America. In fact, band manager Brian Epstein purposely held them back for 6 to 9 months to let Beatlemania spread in the U.S. before they made their famous Ed Sullivan trip. Ryan glazes over the fact that the famous Shea Stadium concert ended their touring career, since no one had the kind of equipment to drown out the screaming teenage girls more concerned with their own mass hysteria than the music. This was the first nail in the Beatles coffin. That wasn’t a bad thing, though, as many of their heavily studio enhanced hits to follow might never have been made if they weren’t stuck in the studio.

OH NO NO NO NO NO NO YOU DI-N’T! Tell me they did not just show a montage of the original American album covers, and then show that steaming-pile-of-distended-rectum Love album cover–that is sacrilege deserving a public stoning–or at least a good flogging. Yikes. The mentality of this show is amazing. Would it have been too much trouble to show ALL the album covers–they skip at least half of them.

First up is Amanda. She looks less trailer park every week–pretty soon, she might even rate a job at the Cracker Barrel (clearing dishes ). She’s going to sing Back in the U.S.S.R.–yikes–a (loving) parody of the Beach Boys by Paul. I can’t tell if she screwed up the BOAC part at the beginning, or merely barely missed screwing up the arrangement. The irony of the song is totally lost on her. Again, do any of you kids out there (under 35) have any concept of what the “U.S.S.R.” meant. It was al Qaida to the 1000th power. When those emergency sirens go off in clear weather (when they are testing them), I still can’t help but look up to the sky to see if the ICBMs are starting to pour down on us. It was ok, kind of pointless and predictable.

Next up is country gal Kristy Lee, and, as predicted, she’s showing some leg. Next week, should she survive, that hem will be about 6 inches higher up. The more the neckline falls, and the hem rises, the more the performer sucks (except in the case of Katherine McPhee). OMGosh–you must be kidding me–did she just say America is now in “the Beatles mode” due to American Idol–what a flippin’ twit. I think some of us might have heard of the Beatles and enjoyed their music before the AI kids showed up to do their little up with people renditions. Anyway, she is singing You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away, John Lennon’s Dylanesque (well, actually a total rip off of Dylan) ode to troubled homosexual manager Brian Epstein. ZERO emotion is conveyed by the fembot. Simon is correct, she is a terrible performer. Rather than musical wallpaper, I would have described it as elevator music.

Next up is Super Happy Choke Artist David. It’s bad enough he totally choked last week, why bother going over it again–the story was done to death in every possible media venue. Oh, nice, the Long and Winding Road, another fantastic song obliterated by Phil Spector’s “wall of sound.” Check out the Anthology III version if you want to hear it done like it was meant to be done. It lacks the rawness of the original, but I guess it is ok. Why one would listen to this in preference to the original is beyond me. My thought is, if you aren’t going to do something to the song to make it a worthy second version in your rotation, why bother? Simon is drooling–more over the millions and millions and millions he is going to rake in, than the performance. The praise is nearly infomercial transparent.

Next up is Eddie Vedder lite rip off artist Michael, who is taking a shot at A Day in the Life–John Lennon never dared perform it live, so why the heck does this joker think he should do it? This is a classic concept album track that should never have been attempted live. As expected, it falls completely on its face. The song is one of my favorites, and fascinating for the part it plays in the “Paul is dead” conspiracy theory. See http://homepages.tesco.net/harbfamily/opd/index.html . I like how he tries to throw in the “I picked it for my dead friend” sympathy vote pitch. Give me a break.

Next up is Brooke, singing Here Comes the Sun off Abbey Road. They could at least bother to mention this is a George Harrison song–he wrote it at Eric Clapton’s house at a time when he was sick to death of being a Beatle. She dressed in an ugly yellow dress–this is very pagenty. Yuck. If Donovan was a chick, he would have sung it just like that–and that is not a compliment.

Next up is comb-over-boy David doing Day Tripper (the “classic” White Snake version). It’s ok, but get’s old quick. I could have done without the Frampton Comes Alive bit in the middle. Whatever.

Next up is McCarly , who would be utterly forgettable without that accent. She’s following up her HIGHLY overrated version of Come Together with Blackbird. What is this, White Album night!? George Martin had it right when he said that the White Album is not a particularly strong album–it is a double album with very little cohesiveness–however, he rightly says, which of those songs would you have thrown out for the sake of making a stronger album? Well, Revolution No. 9, for one, but very few others. Every poetry reading, Birkenstock wearing, English lit major knows how to play the chords of this song on a guitar, so this better be exceptional. Eh. Very indulgent. It was like one of those songs a band does acoustic while the roadies re-jigger the stage. The song, incidentally, is one of Charles Manson’s favorites–he thought it was a metaphor for the apocalypse. He’s probably watching it in San Quintin right now with a smile on his face. McCarly’s explanation for how her suffering entitles her to sing the song makes me long for the apocalypse. Yikes, her nasty new tattoo makes me like her even less. Man, I hope karma comes back to bite her and she’s thrown out!

Next up is the Rastafarian Erkel, Jason, who is going to sing Michelle. A good, solid song off Rubber Soul, one of my favorite albums. The Beatles got all folksy on the album–deep into the ganja, and just coming up on the LSD period. It’s a strong performance, though he is stressing the French pronunciation way too much. I can only conclude that he isn’t familiar with the song, because any Beatles fan worth his salt can repeat the phrase EXACTLY like Paul sang it. Paul sings it effortlessly like it is coming out of his soul–Jason sings it like he’s reading it off a page in a Berlitz travel guide. It was a lot better when I wasn’t looking at his goofy face–maybe he should sing in the dark. His attitude is way too flippant for a love song like this.

Next up is Saisha, who is workin’ what she was born with to get a couple extra votes. NO NO NO, not Yesterday. I hate that song. It is played WAY too often, and has been covered over 3000 times. It’s kind of funny, that this was one of those tunes where the melody popped into Paul’s head, but it took MONTHS and MONTHS to find the words that suited it. They jokingly called it Scrambled Eggs for some time. Once again, Saisha elevates form over substance, dumping in a bunch of inappropriate vocal runs. It would have been much better if she had played it a little straighter. It was passable.

Next up is Jacuzzi — his favorite Beatle is John Lennon — which is appropriate since John was, if we’re being honest, a self-centered, acerbic, jerk. Yikes, he’s going to sing I’ve Just Seen A Face off Rubber Soul. It was a throwaway song written during the Help! sessions, and, again, he took a lame Beatles version and made it something better. It is not nearly as successful as last week though. I suspect he is copying another cover version. What the heck?! Right in the middle it turns in to a hootenanny. Why can’t he pick one style or another. I preferred the second. Simon thought it was gimmicky, and he is right. There is way too much going on. Hopefully he focuses a bit more the next time Beatles night comes around.

Finally, we have Rehmele (or whatever her names is), who has held up well despite weekly drubbings (many of which are not deserved). She’s going to sing I Should Have Known Better, off Hard Days Night. The song borrows heavily from Dylan, who the Beatles (mainly John) had come to greatly admire by the time they wrote the songs for this album. I believe the entire album (all original compositions) were knocked out over several weeks in the Bahamas. A fantastic “concert” movie–you have to see it on the big screen the next time they release it or at your local nostalgia theater. Everything people loved about the Beatles shines through in the movie. Anyway, to the performance–HORRIBLE HORRIBLE HORRIBLE. She is doomed. She didn’t sell the song, and her voice is decimated by nerves. I’m guessing when she sings it on the way out, it will sound much better. It’s funny how those elimination performances are often so much better since the weight of the world is no longer on their shoulders. This version is utterly pointless. There were hints of a country version in there that she could have really run with but didn’t. Simon was right–way too safe–it was like something out of a high school talent show.