When viewed as a microcosm of American Pop Culture of The Oughts (or whatever this decade will end up being called), it makes perfect sense that "American Idol" (which made its debut in June of 2002) has yielded so few successful solo artists.

Sure, while Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood and Chris Daughtry have all topped the sales charts at one time or another, the overwhelming majority of the show's finalists have enjoyed their three months of fame before flickering into the ether. With each season of the show, the American public seems more interested in the typical "AI" finalist as a celebrity or personality than an artist (hello, Sanjaya!). So, it has proven near impossible for even the most talented participants to be taken seriously by the what's left of the album-buying public.

Where does Blake Lewis [ tickets ], runner-up to Jordin Sparks in last season's "AI," fit into all of this? His sound, if you can call it that, clashes with those of the aforementioned "AI" success stories, in that he beat out thousands to make the show's final due largely to his winning charm and predilection to beat-box his way through almost any song, regardless of genre. It figures, then, that his debut disc is full of fits and starts, vocal bleeps and scratches. Millions voted for Lewis based on his Timberlake-lite approach to not-very-edgy fare by the likes of Maroon 5 and the Bee Gees, and on "Audio Day Dream," he delivers more of the same.

Tunes like "Break Anotha" and "Gots to Get To Her" sound like Timberlake b-sides, and few of the album's 16 tracks would seem to have a place on Top 40 radio. But, in this society of instant connectivity and faceless social networking structures, perhaps a release as jittery and scattershot as this one (just check its acronym) will help Lewis rise above of the long odds stacked against him. Just whatever did happen to Justin Guarini?