Confessions of an American Idol junkie

On the eve of the American Idol announcement of the top 12 contestants for this season, I have an admission: I secretly love the show. In fact, it's currently the only program on TV I actually make a point of watching and following through an entire season.

Those who know me would find my interest in the show odd; I've played in numerous rock bands since leaving high school and my record collection (that's vinyl, folks) numbers in the thousands. I'm not a celebrity follower nor do I keep abreast of the goings-on in pop music.

Nevertheless, I never miss a show, from the lowliest of auditions straight to the final broadcast. In the past, I would have said some of my interest comes from my faint hope that someone with actual talent will somehow squeak through, although that hope is usually dashed (Taylor Hicks aside). It's not that I don't think the contestants are good; they're skilled, but not talented. House painters are skilled, in that it's something most people don't do well, but I wouldn't contract them to redesign the Sistine Chapel.

This season of American Idol, though, has been a major letdown for me and it's made me realize my interest has more to do with the judging panel than the contestants. Last season, I felt the show had its strongest lineup of judges, Ellen DeGeneres notwithstanding. Kara Dioguardi, an incredibly strong songwriter, was tough but honest; Randy Jackson, a stalwart since season one, was coming into his own and shedding his reputation as a jokester; and the usually prickly Simon Cowell started to give real advice while retaining his stinging wit.

When the new judging panel was announced over the summer, with Jennifer Lopez and Aerosmith's Steven Tyler joining the ubiquitous Jackson, I did not have high hopes, but I was ready to give them a chance. The results so far have been disastrous, to say the least. Both Tyler and Lopez loath to say anything remotely critical to the contestants; every performance seems to blow them away, and if Lopez had her way, I think we'd have a top 82 contestants rather than 12. Tyler's behaviour has gone way past creepy, as he's hit on girls old enough to be his granddaughter; late-night host Jimmy Kimmel has been hilariously lampooning the aging rocker since the show's premiere. Randy Jackson is left to be the "Simon" of the group and although he has been tougher, it's clearly not a role Jackson is comfortable with.

It would be tough for any show to remain fresh through 10 seasons, especially a one-trick pony like Idol, but with an opportunity to revitalize the tired format, producers took the easy way out and hired some famous names looking to boost their spiraling careers. (Aside: Am I alone in being unable to listen to Aerosmith anymore?) Ratings, although lower than previous seasons, will continue to be high, relative to other shows, so I imagine there isn't the impetus to do any thoughtful tinkering. But until producers wake up to the fact that it's the judging panel that keeps casual viewers interested, I may have to find another television vice.

-- Ryan Charkow