Welcome to the “American Idol” Abbattoir
by Pat Reeder
It’s truly bizarre to me that so many people get so caught up in “American Idol.” I watched it for the first few years, but lost interest at least four seasons ago. Still, I see flashes of it as I wander through the living room because my wife Laura is that rarest of endangered species, a professional singer with musical training. She still watches it, even though she suffers from perfect pitch and often experiences actual physical pain from the experience.
When “Idol” first launched, it was touted as a vehicle for finding great undiscovered talent that would otherwise be overlooked by the cocaine-addled weasels at major record labels. But as the series has steamrollered on, it’s become obvious that they’re not really looking for talent that will change the world, but for young people who are willing to be changed by a TV show. We all know that if a young Bob Dylan tried out today, he’d be one of the nasal losers mocked on the audition shows. And every time I see the panel of “expert” musical judges, I think of their spiritual forefathers: the A&R people at Decca who rejected the Beatles, telling them that “guitar bands are passé.”
I’m old enough (just barely, so please don’t euthanize me, “AI” producers!) to remember ‘way back to the 1960s. In that dim prehistoric era, all the cool kids sneered at the Monkees because they weren’t a “real band,” but just some guys cast to play pop stars on a TV show. This despite the fact that Mike Nesmith was a ground-breaking singer/songwriter who’d already recorded under the name Michael Blessing, and Peter Tork played multiple instruments and was recommended to the producers by Stephen Stills. But the Monkees were considered a joke because they were tainted by association with TV and the commercial music machine, and so weren’t considered genuine, independent musical artistes, man. The ridicule was so relentless, they took pains to point out on the cover of their third LP, “Headquarters,” that they played nearly every instrument themselves, even though the session cats on their earlier albums also backed such groups as the Byrds and the Beach Boys without anyone questioning those bands’ musical integrity.
Now, with “Idol,” we have a complete reversal of mass psychology. Week after week, viewers are obsessed with seeing who can do the best job of molding him- or herself into whatever the lowest-common-denominator pop music Svengalis demand. For instance, I figured early on that Carrie Underwood would win because she was a hot blond with no discernible style of her own, who seemed willing and eager to do anything the producers asked of her, from singing whatever dreck she was handed to losing 20 pounds to wearing micro-miniskirts. Compare the corn-fed Oklahoma girl who first appeared on “AI” to the gleaming, made-over, cleavage-baring product that she’s been polished into by the “AI” pop star assembly line.
People now actually root for their favorites to do the best job of selling out so they can join the mass-produced commercial music scene and cash in big on multi-level endorsement deals. Today, we derive more entertainment from watching the cogs of the music industry grind up young people who are willing to sell their souls for success than we do from listening to any of their resultant “music.” Just compare the millions of fans who speed-dialed their pinkies off for Ruben Studdard or Taylor Hicks or Kris Allen on TV to the relative handful who bought their CDs.
It’s as if we Americans have collectively lost our taste for sausage, but have inexplicably developed a bottomless fascination with watching it be made.
(Pat Reeder is the co-owner/co-writer with wife Laura Ainsworth of the Comedy Wire syndicated radio service, one-third of the writing staff of ABC Radio’s “The Huckabee Report,” and co-author of the books “Hollywood Hi-Fi” and “9 Hallmarks of Highly Incompetent Losers.” His ambition is to someday do something all by himself. For the Comedy Wire’s Joke of the Day, visit www.comedy-wire.com, and for his video reviews of rare, hilarious celebrity records, see hollywoodhifi.net)