Idol ruminations – fourth final and ousting, acoustic

I was pretty sure Jacob’s number was up and if not him then Marty.
But Marty didn’t even get into the bottom three.
This is when the true demographic of this show, ie the ones who vote, starts showing its hand.
So farewell Mark.
But lets take a moment to recap last night’s acoustic set:

TiNatalie Gauci-Arena sang the Michael Jackson song I’m looking at the man in the mirror. Except it appears (or at least sounded so last night) that she can ‘t pronounce her r’s. So it was more I’m looking at the man in the miwwa. It was quite funny. But look, the girl can sing and she certainly can play (the piano). It’s just that she’s a balladrear and it’s just like watching someone’s future unfold faster than usual.

I really liked Mark de Costa and “it was all yellow” which was in my head all day today, fighting for space between Regina Spektor ditties and Joanna Newsom squeakers. I always thought this guy was a bit of a token addition to the top 12, but each week I like him more and more.
** GAWN **

Carl Crooner Riseley finally got to play his trumpet and sing swing. I was underwhelmed. He didn’t fall on his face but he didn’t soar either. I reckon he’ll be gone in the next 2-3 weeks.

You know, each week I am anticipating him to slip up. To have a dodgy song choice, to fall flat, to have his come-uppance if you will. This week I just sat through his performance and thought, ‘you are in a completely different league to everyone else’. Seriously. He was just awesome. AWESOME.
I was surprised Mark didn’t give him a touchdown.

Ben Mackenzie. I have this quiet feeling that this guy is going to take out top honours this year. At the moment I’m thinking the final two with be Matt and Ben, but who knows. I thought Mark would be in the final three if not at least the final five and he is gaawwnn. He was nervy this week but it sort of played in his favour – you know – it was kinda cute.

Daniel ‘I am a hairy man’ Misfud. M’eh. Does nothing for me. The stovepipe jeans, the pointy boots, the scarves, the high hair, the five o’clock shadow? It just all seems so manufactured. So preened. Anyway, he did a KISS song slowly. It was dull and predictable (in an unpredictable way – I filled in time by showing Felix the rendition my brother and I used to do in our sunroom using tennis rackets as guitars and footstools – which we did and still do call ‘poofs’ – as the stage to jump off. ) and then, just as I was getting really distracted, Mark gave him a touchdown. Go figure.


Jacob brit pop Butler. Sang another brit pop tune but stood still and was dressed more appropriately for the indoors. Next.


Marty Jack Johnson Simpson. Marty Marty Marty. It’s like each week he sings the same song but to a different tune. It’s getting kinda old. Lame and old.


Tarisai thank you Jesus Vushe. Thank you Jesus for putting her in a dress. One more week of seeing those pigs fighting under a blanket was going to be one too many. She sang that awesome song that’s in whatshisname’s take on Romeo and Juliet and managed to make it boring. And that dress was very bright.