As I've mentioned here before, this season of Idol left me less than enthralled. I stopped tuning in right about the time they narrowed the competition to the final fourteen. Maybe the acts seemed too polished, too commercial, too pat. Only the lunacy of Paula kept me barely engaged.
For what it's worth, my barely turned teenage daughter is mad about David Archuleta. So are all of her friends. He's cute, I'll admit, and he sings like a nightingale, but that's not enough to keep this old 60's rocker entertained. My daughter may have registered a vote or two, but after the judges' gushing comments, her compatriots may have felt safe to let other voters crown tonight's winner. If so, I'm wondering how many other teenyboppers were lured into a smug state of apathy.
From the little I've seen, David Cook's got it down. He's an obscurity who tried out on a whim, one who is brave enough to take chances. He's edgy and dark. Even if he doesn't emerge as this season's winner, he has a bright future ahead. Cook's albums will sell, especially if he maintains the passion of his current convictions. That, and retains the right manager. Enough said about unsavory characters who bilk the unsuspecting.
People like me don't want more of the same. They want music from artists who walk to the beat of their own drum. I didn't bother to vote my opinion as I had in previous seasons. I'd rather vote with my pocketbook when the Davids' debut CDs hit the market.
Whatever happens tonight, David Cook is the real deal. The question on my lips is the fate of the show itself. Can they interest people like me with raw fresh talent? That, my friends, can't be scripted on a note card.
