Hipsters Out Of Metal!


  • Anso DF


This week’s were my first ever episodes of American Idol, and man, that shit is hilarious in the most unfortunate way. Singing, man. It’s not rocket science. Step one, you visit a voice coach weekly for six months; two, you sing to bars and to your mirror for a few weeks; three, get in line for American Idol auditions. But for some reason, thousands of let’s face it fucktards think that singing is not a skill that you need learn, develop, or even acknowledge. “Hey, I have the ability to make sound with my voice. And therefore I’m going to sing on the TV!” You dunces. I mean, I have arms, eyes, a brain, and an ass — all the tools needed to pilot a chopper — except I’d crash it into a fucking mountain cuz I’ve never taken a Flying Helicopters Not Into Mountains lesson, duh x10000! And one after another, the losers’ refrain was “My friends say I’m a great singer!” Oh well fuck man, if Tina from Accounts Payable thinks you’ve got the stuff, then shut my mouth. Wait, let me pre-pre-order your album. Here’s a twenty.

But srsly I’m not always laughing at Idol auditioners. Nay, I fairly dislocated my eyeballs from rolling them in bulging, protracted 270-degree backward Cs. I haven’t rolled my eyes this violently and disdainfully since Mustaine’s book. You see, Idol likes to wring out all possible human drama from certain contestants via sappy mini-profiles. One singer was bullied. Another raises her special needs child. Another is a creepily adroit schmoozer. But just when the viewer might start to pull for any of them, guess what happens: That underdog outcast takes the stage and then invariably proceeds to sing in the same pinched histrionics as the preceding million would-be Aguileras; in other words, you could say that their toils and burdens have made them into the exact same singer as a 15-year old industry kid in L.A. Gag me. Maybe the contestants dare to be more individual and creative once they’re shipped to Hollywood LOLZ! Super-LOLZ. Oh man.

So ahem we know this so far: In this week’s cities of New Jersey (Wednesday) and New Orleans (Thursday), there were two types of singers trying out, the laughees and the eye-rollees. We know that judge Randy Jackson has a finely-tuned producer’s ear, while Steven Tyler has a producer’s ear and a singer’s persistently obtrusive boner and a grandpa’s library of one-liners. We also know that third judge ‘Fer-‘Pez is a total charity case susceptible to tears, pleas, and abs. We know that Tyler (of the rock band Aerosmith) is earning at least $18 million to suffer this season in regional karaoke Hades. But will his good cheer fade from all the odious ditch work? Will his good intentions result in his irreversible destruction? Will he resist the urge to pork the pubes off of the many beknockered, doe-eyed teen nymph(o)s assembled to wetly beg for his approval? We’ll know more next week.


Metal Sucks’ Idol Remains” returns next week for more recap of Steven Tyler’s adventures in awful auditions when American Idol purges two new cities of their nutjobs and sad sacks Wednesday and Thursday at 8 PM on Fox.

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