The judges on "American Idol" talk about pitchy this and oversinging that. But what they're really looking for is that hard-to-define quality known as "It." Of course, Randy, Paula and Simon, like you and I, all know "It" when they see It.

Chris Daughtry has It. So does Beyonce, and even Britney Spears had It for a while.

On Wednesday night at the half-full Target Center, I saw Jordin Sparks, the reigning "American Idol," and Grammy-dominating R&B superstar Alicia Keys, whose "As I Am" is the biggest-selling album of the past six months. And, to my surprise, neither star had "It."

Both have been plagued by vocal-cord problems of late and have had to call in sick for a few gigs. In fact, Wednesday was Sparks' first appearance on the tour. The 18-year-old's smile and eyes sparkled, and her voice was strong, confident and big. But she didn't have the songs or the personality (what's up with wearing a T-shirt, jeans and 6-inch heels? Is that an "Idol" outfit?) to carry a 25-minute set in a basketball arena.

Keys, 27, has certainly had the big hits and the big career to seemingly warrant being an arena attraction. But her 1¾-hour performance proved that her talents don't effectively translate to an arena. She did not consistently connect with the crowd; she seldom electrified the audience. When she talked between songs, her voice was monotone and her patter often self-important or preachy. She didn't have the personality or pizazz to wow the more than 6,000 concert-goers.

At her best, the New Yorker is an intimate singer, crooning vague confessionals from her diary. Her voice is small (it loses its color when she reaches for those often screaming high notes); her vibe is all about her interior, getting inside her head, heart and soul.

At one point at Target Center, Keys talked about how music-biz power brokers wanted her at the beginning of her career to "shake it" or "take it off" but she was determined to be "different" and "special" -- to "play my piano." And when she did that Wednesday, she was at her most potent. The piano ballads connected: "Diary" produced sparks thanks to Keys' revved-up vocal exchange with backup singer Jermaine Paul, and the emotion-packed "Like You'll Never See Me Again" had fans waving their cell phones in the air like they could feel her pain. And the closing "If I Ain't Got You," rendered on a white grand piano at the end of a stage runway, was a pleading tour de force.

But when Keys wasn't at the piano, it was a ho-hum affair. She is not a natural dancer, but she insisted on devoting about half the show to generic choreography with four female and two male dancers. Her attempts to turn "You Don't Know My Name" and "Teenage Love Affair" into girl-group numbers were ill-conceived. Watching her dance and sing like a butch Diana Ross was as painful as sitting through a full season of "American Idol."

Also appearing was R&B hitmaker Ne-Yo, whose preoccupation with slick ensemble dancing took the heart and soul out of his music. He was convincing on the dancer-less ballads (especially "So Sick") and when his nine-man band and four female dancers found a 1980s Minneapolis Sound groove.

For set list and fan comments, go to www.startribune.com/poplife.

Jon Bream • 612-673-1719