American Idol Recap: Gag Me With a Spoon

I am a child of the ’80s. My first concert was Duran Duran. Top Gun made me gay. I wear an off-the-shoulder Forenza sweater at all times, as a base layer. As such, the idea of an American Idol ’80s night scares the parachute pants off me. Eighties throwbacks tend to misunderstand the decade; it always gets re-imagined as a nonstop parade of peppy synths and kicky topknots, when the reality was much more complex. And American Idol never met a theme it couldn’t get utterly wrong. From the start, I’m dreading the Day-Glo. 


Well! I should not have underestimated the season 13 top eight’s ability to suck the joy right out of everything. Tonight, they give us the ’80s by way of the dreariest of the mope-rock ’90s and the coffeehouse aughts. Ugh.  Read More...


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