I interrupted myself from watching Silver Jews on MTV2’s Subterranean for this?
It’s Stevie Wonder night on AI, which inevitably means some fool’s going to be singing “I Just Called to Say I Love You” or “Part Time Lover.” It’s an important tradition on this show that at least one or two contestants select the worst possible song available from that week’s theme.
The “Who the Hell Is Stevie Wonder” reel plays to teach all the middle-schoolers watching about this old dude whose best music-making years are decades behind him. I still find it hard to believe that the man who wrote such incredible songs in the ’60s and ’70s could turn to complete mush by the ’80s. And then just stay that way for the next 20+ years. If you look on Wikipedia for the expression “resting on one’s laurels” it barfs up a picture of Stevie Wonder. “Stevie’s music is just as influential today,” Seacrest announces, as the reel shows us Mr. Wonder, version 2006, in a big brown track suit, looking like a giant roast beef. And even though Seacrest is lying through his teeth, Stevie’s old stuff is still so good that he gets a pass for all the rest of his crap.
And speaking of crap, here’s Ace attempting “Do I Do,” but not before we see his personality reel where he weeps over meeting Stevie. When Ace cries, his fertilizer-rich tears hit the dirt and sexy little flowers begin to bloom, making the path he walks on fragrant and beautiful. When Ace chases after “Do I Do,” however, and fails to catch it, he tramples on those flower and they die screaming. When I was a kid I saw John Davidson (he’s another old guy, famous for I have no idea what) on Johnny Carson singing “Staying Alive.” Ace’s performance reminds me of that. Then he finishes the song and the crowd goes ballistic with sexual hysteria—they can see the Ace-Groin that the camera is studiously avoiding—and then there’s a shot of the audience, and then the judges, and then finally Ace. After what must be a solid five seconds, Ace is still holding his face in that seducto-stare he’s perfected. It gets more and more unnerving every week.
Kellie Pickler is up next. “I’m not that familiar with Stevie Wonder’s music,” she says. Of course she’s not. That’s because she’s never heard an oldies station—or any other radio station, for that matter. She’s never seen a radio in her life, period. She’s never been in an elevator or a supermarket or a Gap or a movie theater where music played. Not once. She didn’t even know people sang things called “songs” until a few months ago when she was led blindfolded to the Idol audition by her grandpappy. So naturally, since all Stevie Wonder songs are new to her and weigh the same, she’s chosen one of the non-hits that nobody knows, “Blame It on the Sun.” She bores it to death, nervously winking at whoever it is in the audience who’s been force-feeding her all that yucky spinach salad and sal-mon since she arrived in Hollywood. You just know that her little joke is that she calls it HollyWEIRD and she probably thinks she made it up all by herself. How is it that two weeks ago I had such fond affection for this girl, and now I want someone to make her STFU? The judges tell her she blew it and she begs for forgiveness: “I’m sorry!” And for a second I actually almost do feel sorry for her.
I finally agree with my domestic partner: Elliott Yamin is Captain Caveman. But I don’t care. He’s so good it hurts. I suppose I should say Crying Caveman, though, because he blubbers over meeting Stevie too, just like Ace. The difference is, I believe it from Elliott. He sings “Knocks Me Off My Feet” and it’s technically precise, like he’s been practicing the life out of it. But that’s just it. He practiced the life out of it. Come back next week, Captain Caveman, and do better for me, your fan.
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