08:21 AM EST on Wednesday, January 19, 2005

By BRIAN MORAN / Special to WCNC.com

American Idol is back a few months too soon to rescue some slumping ratings for the FOX network and hopefully erase the taste left in the nations gaping mouth after last year's effort. I pleaded for AI to take a year off, but it was to no avail. They're back in our nation’s capital with familiar confidence only rivaled by their hapless contestants: “This year has more talent than all three previous seasons put together.” We’ll see.

As for last year's American Idol, it was the best of times; it was the worst of times. It was the least amount of skill we’ve seen by far. But it was also the most entertaining season because of the lack of natural ability. The train wreck potential from week to week was off the carts. I was forced to watch half the season from behind a pillow. By reality standards, that’s good TV.

You had John Stevens, God bless him. His demeanor was soothing and he had calmness beyond his years, yet he’d be lucky to catch a solo in the high school glee club. And you had an entire state brutally skewing the voting in favor of their local, Jasmine Trias. I went to Hawaii this summer and I had a general distrust for everybody I came across.

The early stages of AI are always great. The lack of talent is trumped by the substance less confidence of the loony tune contestants. And tonight was no different. This batch was more convicted in their belief that they were stars than in previous years. It actually gave this year’s crop of head cases on the Bachelorette a run for its money.

Well, maybe not. Not with Stalker Stu in play, as well as Michael the Teacher from California who bragged that he likes cuddling so much that he straddles his dog in bed. Amazingly, both were rose-less at nights end.

The first heart-breaking, heart-stopping moment came to us via a 20-year-old named Jesse from Philly. He tries to sing “You raise me up” by Josh Grobin until he forgets the first line. He’s forced to go into the hall to be fed the lyrics. When he came back, his effort was the most brutal reality moment since they incorrectly assumed Trumps COO knew how to speak English. If I were given 20,000 words instead of 1,500 and 2 weeks instead of 2 hours, I still couldn’t possibly put into print how painfully awkward it was. He cries silent tears as the judges look on in horror.

Cheer up Philly boy, look at the bright side. The Eagles are going to make the Super Bowl this weekend. Monday morning, you’ll be slamming Bloody Marys and downing a pound of underdone bacon to get over the festivities. They’ll need a forklift to “raise you up.”

As the contestants continued to bomb with a total lack of self-awareness, the question I keep asking myself is “How do these guys get these over blown egos?” After Melissa goes, the answer becomes clear: their parents. Melissa shows up with kitchen ware doubling as jewelry. It literally looks like she’s got a spatula hanging from her necklace. She brags that she has style and knows how to carry herself. She also has two giant welts lining her exposed arms. The explanation makes perfect sense to me, “I tried on clothes in a pitch dark dressing room.” Don’t you hate when that happens?

Anyway, she sang a few bars in a voice that sounded like a severely wounded llama. The gang breaks her heart and when she goes outside bawling, her mom is quick with “It’s because you lost your voice.”

Things remained hard to watch from start to finish. One young Mom pawned her wedding rings for $200 to get a chance. Another was forced to beg for money on the streets to get home causing a donor to shatter the bottle of coke he was holding. Toni Braxton’s little cuz took the stage and breathed loudly in tongues which was a bit frightening. He seemed bi-polar at times. Avon Moore cranked out back to back final notes to complete Annie’s Tomorrow, both of which sustained longer than thirty seconds.

In the end, it was an entertaining first effort from AI. I know I made it sound like all the singers were awful but that wasn’t the case at all. I saw at least 4 or 5 that could give the top ten a run. All-in-all, maybe all their rhetoric was some merit to it. They’ve promised the talent level will be much higher. They promised us they’ll be changes to help the format. These are all things we’ve heard before but if D.C. is any indication, the next American Idol might actually sell a record or two. But if not, staring at the back of a scarlet taffeta pillow can be fun too. Either way, I’m on board through it all.