Australian Idol: Thoughts From Your Editor (Part One)

So last night I did a very rare thing. I sat down in front of the telly with a piece of paper and a pen and jotted down notes as I watched the very first episode of Australian Idol for 2008. Paper and a goddamn pen – what is this, the Victorian era?

Well, it was certainly the Victorian auditions on Idol, judging by the many exciting shots of Melbourne landmarks. As my friend Fluffy said after the camera rushed down Degraves Street, “God, Melbourne is so cool – when you view it through the eyes of the Idol crew”.

Anyway. In what I hope is chronological order, let me transfer my highly insightful notes on the show off this “paper” I’d previously only heard about from museum curators onto the interwebs.&middot One of my favourite quotes of the night was from a young lady called Emma who – as most delusional people on Idol tend to think – believed she was the “complete package”. When asked if she’d considered modelling, given that she was so completely hot etc, she replied “I’ve been shortlisted for a Myer catalogue… but unfortunately they went in a different direction.” That is brilliant. I plan on using that line in the future whenever I am asked what I do for a living.

&middot Chris Fatouros, a 25 year old busker, has horrible taste in clothes. He’s spent the last ten years on the street singing for his supper, and he’s hoping to wow the judges. As soon as he starts singing, one thing goes through my head. KEEP UP THE CATS. He is a brilliantly Bi-Lo version of James Blunt. The other notable thing about him is that he moves his eyebrows in order to get high notes. Up goes the left one, up goes the right one, ooooh there they both go! I think there’s no way he’s going through. I am wrong. Marcia calls him “intensely intriguing”. Marcia has obviously been drinking.

&middot Nayeni calls herself a “very good performer” but says so while displaying the charisma of a block of wood (or alternatively, Tom Williams). She sings ‘Fame’, which at least gives the judges a chance to indulge in some “BVs” (which is what one refers to “backing vocals” as when one is in show business, or so I was once informed by a femmus singer). It’s a no from the judges, but Marcia calls her singing “nice”. Dicko pipes up “Yeah, nice when she finished.”

&middot If Chris Fatouros is the Bi-Lo Blunt, then Marina is the Safeway Hawkins. She is very attractive, so Kyle has high hopes she’ll be able to sing well and thus fulfill his dream of one day finding a great pop star who is actually incredibly attractive. Unfortunately her rendition of Amy Winehouse’s ‘Valerie’ isn’t quite up to scratch. Her vocal affectations mean it sounded as though she sang the line “Stop making a fooooooo oudda meow!” Or maybe it was “Stop making a fooooooo oudda Mao!” Either way, it wasn’t good.

&middot Sarah Carnegie moved from Sydney to Melbourne for music. She sounds quite sweet in a Wesley Anne/The Empress sort of way, but for some reason I roll my eyes when she says “Me and music have quite a history together” – oh really? Why, did music fingerbang you in the toilets during the year ten semi-formal?

&middot If there was ever one name made for pop stardom, it’s Tatum Jackson. Her parents are musicians (the photo of her folks on stage is so amazing, it’s like something out of that Bad Album Covers meme) and she says “Singing is in my family, singing is in my blood… singing.” She doesn’t get through with her original choice of song, but as she thanks the judges she says “I love you, you’re so funny” to Kyle. This is probably the first time anyone has said such a thing to Kyle, and he is moved. He searches for Tatum in the lobby and asks her if she can perform something a little different, something poppier for the judges. She agrees, comes in and sings that song I’ve only ever heard on late night mobile phone ringtone ads (sung by a surfer chick? Possibly called Bubbly or something like that?), and blows the judges away. She gets through. “I COULD KISS YOU BUT I’M NOT ALLOWED!” she exclaims gleefully in Kyle’s direction. He looks around him and says “There’s no sign!” as though Tamara Jaber would really authorise a post-audition pash, and I begin to realise something horrible. I am finding Kyle rather funny in this episode, and this could be the series which turns me into a fan rather than a playa hater.

&middot NYC’s Naked Cowboy pops by and sings a tune. In tighty whities – not quite “naked” but never mind. Dicko asks Marcia if she was looking at the Naked Cowboy’s willy during his performance (do bears shit in the woods, Dicko?), and then he and Kyle confess that they certainly were. Naked dude has made about $3million already this year. Upon hearing this, the three judges begin undressing.

&middot My hair-dar begins going nuts when young Casey Freeman from Nowhere Creek appears on the screen. After confessing she only gets around seven people to any of her gigs in Melbourne, she sits on the floor and strums a song on the guitar. The judges like her very much. Dicko announces that Kyle just whispered to him that Casey was “… the only star I’ve seen today.” Casey’s response is positively McLennan-esque – “OH REALLY? Shit!”

&middot It should also be noted that Casey has a vaguely English accent which no one can explain as she’s not from the U.K at all. She confesses she’s always had it, and she quite likes it. Well, Eliza Doolittle had better hope it doesn’t irritate the nation after a couple of weeks! She farewells the judges by flirtatiously saying to Marcia “You’re well cute in real life!” Heh.

And that’s Part One of this audition wrap done. More coming this afternoon!