American Idol: Top Seven Take Two: Disco Mild Blaze

Say hi to your judges! Hi, judges! Randy points heavenward as if to say, "It's not about me, it's about God." Then he confusingly gives the UK version of the middle finger, as if to say, "Go eff yourself, America." No, the sign for peace is not a palindrome. When you turn it around it means something else. Kara in a pink homecoming dress, Paula in a floral cardigan, and Simon in an undershirt. Tra la la, isn't it all wonderful? Do we have to sit through six confused amateurs, poorly produced and ludicrously dressed to get to some Lambert?

LIL ROUNDS: Lil sings Chaka Khan's "I'm Every Woman." She's wearing a black spandex cat suit and a super funky wig. The judges have been trying to get her to sing something like this for weeks, but then they hate her for it. Yeah, okay, it was a steamy mess. Only Paula throws her a bone, saying she had laryngitis yesterday and has made an amazing recovery. As Lil listens to the judges' comments, she crumples like a dropped puppet. Then Simon says she's going home for sure -- this is her last week. Someone from the crowd yells angrily and the camera shows us some variety of Rounds relative who is saying unmentionable, I'm pretty sure, to the lip-readers in the audience. Poor Lil. Pimped early, dropped late.

KRIS ALLEN: Kris sings "She Works Hard for the Money" with a Latin folk vibe. Oh my goodness, somebody has changed up a genre! How shocking! They even drag out that drum that you sit on to play it, and bring all the percussion right downstage. Kris sings kinda like a fuzzheaded little cat or something. Sometimes he yawns and a note comes out. Kara repeats the perpetual lie with her overworked, ruthlessly articulating lips, "Oh, wow, you took a HUGE risk with that performance! And it paid off BIG TIME." Yeah, a giant risk. Because last year's winner failed utterly in switching genres on songs. And this year's front runner is having terrible trouble with his "Looky, I made it my own" performances. So yeah, big risk. Trust me, when they bring out the drum you sit on, accusations of blistering originality are right around the corner.

DANNY GOKEY: Danny sings "September" in a super dorky way. You know what, it just feels like everyone has given up. They're done. They're on the tour. Lambert is the winner. They don't even care anymore, they just want to get to the part where they get a few weeks off to take horse tranquilizers and lie around. Gokey's dancing is just beyond laughable. Gruesome even. When they go to "Danny's friends and family" the camera picks out four undead girlbots in sundresses. Who are these people? The camera visits them again and again. Are they more Cheesecake Factory conquests? Danny has an entourage that takes its ranch vinaigrette on the side. They droop and leer at the camera. The judges fawn and gush about him. Kara's lips disengage from her body, crawl down her front, swing out from the microphone and land on Gokey's scruffy chin, grabbing for purchase among his weedy little beard scraps, and landing at last on his pink, thin mouth hole. We know the judges love Danny.

ALLISON IRAHETA: Allison arrives on the stage riding a glistening chrome staircase illuminated with red bulbs and bathed in the glow of the fiery jumbotrons. She is a rocker! Take a memo! They're trying to help her out of the bottom three, I guess, but then Randy says, "You're one of the best singers in this competition." Really? One of the best? There are only seven left. Out of like thousands, hundreds, dozens, etc. So, really, one of the best -- that's overwhelmingly generous. The judges quibble. Do they like the arrangement? Or not? Who cares. They drag out the old lauds and honors -- she's authentic, she's genuine, she's real.

We are going to commercial BUT -- THERE IS ADAM LAMBERT! He's in the crowd -- I see his HEAD! I see his smiling head all wreathed in hair product and favoritism!

ADAM LAMBERT: Adam is pinching off a little Elvis tonight, and I totally want that snake ring on his pinky finger, microphone hand. He sings a really tortured, eye squeezing, look-at-my-pulsing-soul-seething-with-angst version of "If I Can't Have You." An unremarkable song that has now has all of the corpuscles wrung out of it forcibly, in the meaty fists of our favorite son. The judges froth and foam. Kara shakes her head in fake, contrived disbelief. By the way, Kara shouldn't wear her haid pulled back -- it makes her look like a fetal monkey. The kids love it. Paula confesses tearfully that she could feel Adam's pain. Simon calls it brilliant. Whatever! I didn't actually like it that much. So!

MATT GIRAUD: Matt bores the shit out of everyone with a predictable, crotch-touching, Whiny McPulerson version of "Stayin' Alive." Randy searches around for something mildly inaudible to say, and decides to opine that this group of seven is one of the most talented groups they've ever had. Oh, really? Out of seven groups, this is *one of the* most talented? I'm overcome with awe. Matt in a black straw fedora and burgundy leather jacket. Just the most completely unattractive man I have ever seen. Just that.

ANOOP DESAI: Anoop sings "Turn Down the Lights." I don't understand the song, the pink v-neck sweater under the taupe business suit, the judge's comments, or the show itself anymore. I am utterly, completely bored by Anoop, to the point that I clicked away from this window to investigate an incoming mail alerting me to a auto-thanks-for-the-follow-DM on Twitter. Just to see if maybe there was anything else there besides the autothanks. Equivalent of changing channels to watch the channel guide.

BEST PERFORMANCE: I didn't like any of them.
WORST PERFORMANCE: Matt Giraud.
GOING HOME: Matt Giraud and Lil Rounds