1/17/08

It's back! The lowdown on "American Idol"

by Beckye and Jeremy Randall

The TV phenomenon that is “American Idol” roared back on the air January 15 and, as usual, the first several shows will feature performances by many odd and painfully untalented people.

If you’re like me, you probably assumed that everyone who shows up to audition for the show gets an audience with Randy, Paula and Simon, but that’s not the case. By the time these “singers” get in front of the final judges, they’ve already been through several rounds of preliminary auditions. Is it any wonder that even the most dreadful singers imagine they have a shot at fame when they’ve been passed forward several times?

My own son Jeremy (who of course is an extremely talented singer) decided to audition for this year’s show in San Diego. A recap of his experience follows:

On the morning of auditions for “American Idol,” I arrived at Qualcomm Stadium at about 5:30 a.m., having already received my armband and ticket on Saturday when I registered. Despite the early hour, the line (which was really more of a twenty-foot-wide crowd) was already wrapped from Gate G (the “front” gate) to Gate P.

And there we stood, only occasionally shifting positions as people closed up gaps in the crowd ahead. At different points in the crowd, I found myself standing next to folks from as far away as Hawaii, Atlanta, and New York City.

Around 6:30 a.m., the line began slowly moving forward, and any meaningful conversations stopped as people drifted past each other. At first we thought they were letting us in, but as we walked beyond the open Gate G, confusion set in. Soon after all of the gates were flung open, allowing the Idol wannabes to flood the stadium from every direction.

Since seating tickets had been assigned upon registration, it was fairly easy to find our seats. I was in section 20, out of 23 total that’d been given tickets. Yeah…way at the end, seated near nobody interesting, but fortunately up far enough in the stands to be in the shade. Once the sun came over the edge of the stadium around 9 a.m., the lower sections of the stadium were suddenly unbearably hot, and soon abandoned by all except the most stalwart sun-worshippers and those who came prepared with shielding umbrellas.

The audition process began a little after 10 a.m. Until that time, they were waiting for us to take our seats, setting up a karaoke stage at Gate G for entertainment, and filming a bunch of group footage for the shows. We were filmed singing a stadium-wide rendition of “California Dreaming” and dancing around like idiots to “Walkin’ on Sunshine.” The sing-along was pretty cool, with an estimated 20,000 people joined in chorus, most of whom could actually carry a tune.

Anyway, the audition process was set up like this:  Folks in each section of seats (23 sections in total, remember?) were led down to the field where 12 different tents, each manned throughout the day by one or two different “industry professionals” (I have no clue what that means exactly), had been set up. Groups of four were taken into the tents for individual auditions.

At the beginning of the day, they’d told us to prepare one verse and a chorus, but by the time noon rolled around and they’d only seen two sections of auditioners, they realized the process had to speed up a bit. By the time my group got up there, we were told to “start at the meaty section, and sing about 10 seconds.”

It was a long, annoying day. I couldn’t find a secluded location to rehearse with any level of privacy and didn’t want to be annoying and intrusive like others around me. Eventually I found a place on the “unseated” side of the stadium, and set up my little camp. After a few hours, my iPod went dead, and I hadn’t brought a book along.

So I passed the last several hours spying on fellow auditioners. I found seats as close as possible to the audition tents, and listened and watched to see whom the judges were passing through, and who they weren’t. The majority of those who made it to the next level were people with gimmicks:  funny costumes, military personnel, the ugly, the grossly untalented, and the certifiably insane. Only a few singers accepted were actually worth anything, in my opinion.

Finally, at about 8:30 p.m., my section was led down to the field. Keep in mind that I’d been awake (and bored) for about 17 hours at this point, so I was practically dead on my feet. But I’d kept my voice in good shape through moderate practice and plenty of water.

I hit the tent with three other folks that I knew would not make it--passable attempts, but not professional grade. It was distracting to be able to hear so much from the other auditioners in the tents on either side of us. I think it would be tough to make an accurate judgment of singers’ abilities in such a cacophonous atmosphere, so I have a little sympathy for the judges. One of them was a young 20-something Latina who didn’t say anything during the entire audition process, nor make much eye contact, but smiled and seemed to be rocking along when I performed. The other judge was a severe older fellow, probably mid-to-late-40s, who never smiled.

I did a portion of Keith Urban’s “Somebody Like You” as my audition piece. I hit every note solid, showed off my range and ability to improvise within a chord, as well as my showmanship and connection with the audience.

After all four of us had sung, they asked us to step forward to the table, thanked us for auditioning, and dismissed us with no amount of ceremony. “Thank you for auditioning, we’ve decided not to pass any of you onto the next round. But don’t stop singing!”

So when you see the ridiculous performances during the first several shows, realize that those poor souls were given a chance to "audition" for the judges just for the sake of cheap laughs, and at the expense of other singers who may have actually deserved a chance to move on.

Sour grapes? Maybe a little... but it's the truth.

(Ed. note: Want to hear Jeremy sing? Click here to get to his demo tracks.)