THIS! Is a completely Beatle-free American Idol. And Kristy Lee Cook is somehow kicking around, white hood and all.

In kick-ass news, our old unstable homeless friend Josiah inked a record deal. Suck on THAT, top 24!

Also? What the eff is Paula wearing?



Ramiele Malubay. "Alone," in the style of Heart. Doomed spot. Ehh? I still wonder who defines Ramiele's fan base. Once the top-12 hits and people start getting voted off, surviving is all about a precise algorithm. Who will get Amanda's fans? Who got Dave Hernandez's? (Three guesses, and the first two don't count). I'd say Amanda's go the way of Carly or perhaps Dave Cook. Long way of saying … not sure who will benefit if AND WHEN Ramiele takes her asymmetric haircut ass into the audience with Danny Noriega.

She pulls out the f*cking ringer of a song, but no one – NO ONE! – can outdo the great Underwood
"Alone" of 2005, no matter how hard one tries. Ramiele? Ain't trying too hard. Her break into the chorus is awkward and "pitchy," the high notes are strained as hell, the Flashdance-meets-Rhythm-Nation outfit is a straight-up fright. But her hair looks pretty. God, I sound like Paula. Well, so she's apparently sick. I can sympathize – but still, you never attempt "Alone!" And that goes for Ann Wilson as well.

Jason Castro. "Fragile," in the style of Sting. . Castro with a key-tar. Can anything be better? Hmmm. I feel bored. There are certainly better Sting songs. Jason looks considerably more comfortable with his guitar in tow, but he still has a hard time connecting with the audience, live or television. The cute kid pictures will keep him alive for a bit longer, though.

Syesha Mercado. "If I Were Your Woman" in the style of Alicia Keyes? When was this song out, exactly? The only thing Google turns up is Alicia Keyes, and I know she wasn't tickling the ivories when I was kicking around junior high. Oh – there's a Gladys Knight and the Pips –were they in the Top 40 in 1987? Anyway. This is a more assured Syesha. Flawless vocal, but nothing to write home (or dial repeatedly) about. Pretty, but predictable.

Chikezie. "If Only for One Night," in the style of Luther Vandross. If there's a decade's Top 40 charts with which I'm acutely familiar, it's the 1980s. I was rocking out with Casey Kasem and John Garabedian when these kids were running around in uteri and diapers. And yet, I have known exactly one of these songs so far. I still find Chikezie quite likable, but the vocals aren't wowing me this evening. Perhaps it was the song choice? Who knew the lone remaining black dude could wail the Beatles better than the Vandross? He may be in trouble, but I sure hope not.

I thought that was John "Crocodile Rock" Stevens in that Moment of Truth commercial.

Brooke White. "Every Breath You Take," in the style of The Police. Love Brooke, but her Mom looks younger than she does. Sad but true. Both gorgeous, though, so who cares? Speaking of gorgeous, the blow-out is great, although the middle part is not. False start on the song, but she pulls it together for a stripped-down, emotional, and interesting version. Great vocals, and I long for the day when Brooke really challenges her range, because I think she's got a good one. I also think she's overtaken Carly as my favorite female.

Michael Johns. "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions," in the style of Queen. So Michael Johns is at his best singing Queen – can he work Freddie and the boys into future theme nights? His voice sounds stronger than ever, his range seems broader (though there's a hollow note or two), and his hair looks fantastic again. Great final note. You’re hanging in there, little buddy. Keep it up.

Carly Smithson. "Total Eclipse of the Heart," in the style of Bonnie Tyler. The low part of the verse is shaky and rather unpleasant. She's the anti-Brooke in that her range is surprisingly a bit inconsistent – truly great in parts (the notes of the chorus), oddly weak in others. She totally ignores the audience, sways weirdly, and tries to kick those pregnancy rumors. Not her best week. Is she sick too?

David Archuleta. "You're the Voice," in the style of who Google tells me is Johnny Farnham. What? Who? Must be Christian rock. Or something adjacent to the Little River Band, according to Wikipedia. I am SO. BORED, and Archuleta needs to learn how to use a damned microphone. This is very boy band. Very Brian Littrell in 1999. SHOW. TUNE.

Kristy Lee Cook. "God Bless the U.S.A.," in the style of Lee f*cking Greenwood. 1984? I don't think I realized she was "that" old. I pegged her at 1988 and was hoping for various cuts from the Cocktail soundtrack. Oh. Oh, dear. I have nothing to say. Is this Nashville Star? Kristy Lee hates: horses, gay marriage, and going to the Top Nine. Beth hates: freedom. But I must begrudgingly admit she did a good job. And the judges love it. I am beside myself with confliction.

David Cook. "Day Billie Jean," in the style of Soundgarden's Chris Cornell but David doesn't seem to mention this. Last week David credited "Day Tripper" to Whitesnake; this week, he lets people believe he kicked Michael Jackson's ass all by himself. I like David, so I'll choose to believe that his proper credit is on the cutting-room floor (or that he told Seacrest to give it). What do orange Livestrong bracelets support? Carotenemia? Regardless, he rocks it and is awesome from start to finish and should have Chris Daughtry's damned career, already. David has big momentum on his side and is CLEARLY the superior David.

Prediction? Ramiele may survive, only due to illness sympathy. Kristy Lee got late-show placement, but she's still on borrowed time. Patriotism will save her for another week. Hallelujah. Jason Castro? Not totally safe, I fear.