American Cry-dol

I have peered into the gaping maw of insanity, and it is the American Idol auditions process. And when that ostentatious bus pulled into the Railyard Park, I was there to take in all the misplaced hope, curious obsession and oh-so-American desire to bypass the traditional routes to fame in the hopes of becoming an overnight sensation.

Now in its 15^th and final season, American Idol has absolutely been a cultural phenomenon. After all, who among us is not aware of singers like Kelly Clarkson or Clay Aiken or…that other guy? And yet, at the core of what must seem like an exciting opportunity to the young and the restless is the age-old story of wide-eyed innocents looking to hit the big time and the sad but true reality that almost nobody is anywhere as good as they think they are.

My story begins with an attempt to sign up and audition myself to the tune of Toni Braxton (y'know, because that would have been a much funnier story), but when I fought my way to the sign-in table last Friday morning, a gigantic sign reading "You must be between the ages of 15 and 28 to audition" dashed my hopes and dreams. After the tears had subsided and I had shouted out the requisite, "Y'all ain't seen the last of me!" speech, I asked a PA why it was that American Idol could indulge in such ageism. I was unceremoniously told to step aside, but according to supervising producer Brian Robinson, a 12-year veteran of the show, "It's just the rules of the show…it's an age range that gives us a really good idea of the kind of up-and-coming singers out there who are ready to take that path to stardom."

And though I wondered what clandestine committee came up with and fed this guy that bullshit cut-and-paste answer, I suppose it's only fair for them to run the show however the hell they want. Robinson said the age limit has never been an issue, but one can't help but feel that there must be some extremely talented 30-somethings that have just been excluded. All the same, American Idol takes a very specific, Jason Mraz-loving, original song-avoiding, mainstream-obsessed kind of musician/singer purview, but hey—that might just be my own weird feelings, since my idea of the true joy of musicianship comes from being in the shit and doing the work.

Anyway, age restrictions or not, the fans showed up in droves. People like 23-year-old Stephanie Kurimski of Carlsbad, NM, who showed up at 3 am to make sure she was the first in line.

"I've wanted to try out since the first season, the first episode," Kurimski says. "I just want to inspire people with music the way it has inspired me."

Or Alexa Cappelli, 15, from Upland, Calif., who had been in line several hours and has wanted to audition since she was 8. Cappelli's mother Sandy watched proudly as her daughter attempted to keep patient and told me that her daughter "very clearly has a gift."

But this is the sad part. The Kurimskis and Cappellis of the world surely number in the bazillions, and the truth is that American Idol teaches them a dangerous lesson about the industry—namely that hard work, songwriting and paying one's dues should take a back seat to the concept of overnight stardom. Almost everyone I spoke with said the same basic thing about loving the show and being positive they had a shot. Of course, those William Hung train wreck auditions that everyone else loves so much were not of any concern to these people, because they're obviously very special. Or naïve. Yeah, that one.

The silver lining of my nightmarish journey into the heart of darkness came in the form of local singer-songwriter Miriam Kass who, at only 16, has become one of the most promising musicians in town and was auditioning with an original song.

"I like that the show is accessible for so many, and I like the inspiration it evokes," Kass told SFR. "Ultimately, though, I think it produces more covers and less originality, and that's the weaker side; there is so much more to being an artist."

Very true. And really, that there was even one teenager who could grasp the reality of the situation took a lot of the sting out of being too old to compete. That, coupled with such a ridiculous show ending its dubious run, gives me hope for the future of music. Now if only the producers could unbreak my heart.

Santa Fe Reporter