Like last night, Ryan has swapped around the order of the song. He starts out singing the chorus low and softly, over nothing but slow keyboard chords. Then he goes up an octave on the second line. So far, so good. Nate the Drummer counts off and the band kicks in full strength. And it sounds great. No fiddly keyboards -- there's still piano, but it's really big like the piano in "New Year's Day" by U2 and Nate is just pounding out a driving four-four instead of bothering with the syncopated high-hat that goes on in the original. As for Ryan, he's making his first misstep, having a little trouble struggling out of his sweatshirt during the intro and then trying to get his necklace straightened out before he has to sing the first verse. Not cool. But the first verse is quite dramatic, with Ryan singing low again and the band hanging back again. They're back for the second chorus, and then Ryan's mic cuts out briefly while he sings from near the other bottom-threes at stage left. For the next chorus, he's out on the runway, singing harder than Dave Gahan ever will and bent so low over the audience that he appears to briefly lose his balance. Someone in the front catches he hand, and Ryan has to yank himself free. Again, not cool. He goes back upstage for his big finish, which involves a lot of yelling and ends with the shouted injunction, "Enjoy The Silence!" Thanks, I think I will. Okay, I'm sorry, that wasn't fair. Ryan really wasn't bad at all, especially if you just listened and didn't watch. Josh and Jill join Ryan at the end of the runway, where they'll wait out Supernova's commercial-length deliberations.
After the break, Gilby does his thing where he summarizes the bottom three performances, prefacing it with the remark, "As always, we never agree." Well, that certainly bodes well for the future of the band. "You don't want to know," Tommy intones. Gilby tells Jill that it seems like the voters are trying to tell them something, putting her in the bottom three for a third time. But she always seems to sing her way out of it, he says. Brilliant observation. Gilby says that they all know Josh has a great voice, but there's doubt as to whether it will cut through the loud guitars (or guitar, as the case may be). Gilby also mentions the Josh-insisting-on-playing-guitar issue. Gilby turns to Ryan and repeats that it's his first bottom-three performance. The audience claps and cheers for Ryan, unlike for the other two. Gilby tells him he's been building on his momentum, although they're still not sure about his stage presence. "We do think you deserve another chance," Gilby concludes, and just like that, Ryan is safe. And Gilby turns it over to the "Tommyhawk." Into the silent hall, Gilby orders, "Give Tommy a little love, guys, come on." Tommy gets a little love from the audience, if it can be called that under such circumstances. "Noise" might be a better word. "Coerced noise" might be better still. Aw, no love for the hatchet man. Maybe he should drop the schtick.