The New American Idol

And so it begins again. The cycle continues. And I’m tired of it.

In a couple of weeks, the next season of ‘American Idol’ will begin its five month assault on our TV screens, monopolizing the prime time schedule and clogging up our DVR’s. It will once again ask the question “Who will be the next American Idol?”, and once again, I will answer “I don’t care”.

The well tested formula will be repeated. The first month of shows will undoubtedly be the auditions, where people who can carry a tune will be intermixed with clips of those who can’t sing at all. Usually, this second group will consist of people who are living in denial of their lack of talent, and many of them will curse out the judges who brought this fact to light in front of a national audience. One judge will have their own moments of insanity (I’m looking at you, Steven Tyler). Ho-hum. We’ve all seen this before.

There will be stories of contestants who have overcome some adversity in their lives to make it into the next phase of the competition. There will also be a least one contestant who didn’t make it last year and who is now back for a second try at stardom. How droll.

You can also bet that at least one contestant will have an illegitimate child who they ‘miss terribly’. Another contestant will have had a recent death in their family, and they’ll be dedicating their performances to the memory of the dearly departed. Wake me when it’s over.

There’s going to be special guest mentors who will have the contestants perform songs that are entirely unsuited to their vocal talent, and judges who criticize these contestants for their poor song choice. Randy Jackson will call everyone ‘dog’, and question the way that some people are dressed. (remember what they say about people living in glass houses, Randy)



Finally, we’ll have many, many moments of artificial drama, fueled by the talent less Ryan Seacrest, as well as plenty of adolescent little girls flashing placards that were handed out by the show’s producers. I think that I’m going to be ill.

If last season is any indication (and I think that it was), American Idol has jumped the proverbial shark. Last season ended in what amounted to a Country-Western Karaoke contest, and most of America was bored to tears. I know that I was.




At least Simon Cowell had the good sense to leave this fiasco. He pulled a Don Mattingly, and tendered his resignation before he embarrassed himself too badly.

Mr. Cowell just finished the first season of his new show, the X-Factor, which was marginally better than American Idol, but in the end was just another re-warmed rehash of the genre. I give that show another year or so until it degrades into the tasteless goo that American Idol has become.

Let’s face it – lots of folks can carry a tune. Many of them have good vocal instruments that can be fine tuned by professionals into something that is pleasant to listen to. And some of those folks also have a good stage presence, but so what? The lounges of Las Vegas are chock full of such people, and we really don’t need any more of them.



What we need is a new genre of talent show – one that will help discover the next rare talent – and I think that I have found ‘just what the Doctor ordered”.

I call the show ‘The FDA Factor’ (it’s a working title).

I came up with this idea when I realized that the most truly gifted vocalists on the planet are those that you hear at the end of every pharmaceutical advertisement on TV. They’re the disembodied voices that list off all of the dire side effects of whatever pharmaceutical is being pimped in the commercial, and they do so in the most pleasant way possible. This is no easy task.

These voices must sound friendly yet authoritative at the same time. Most importantly, they need to make the horrible side effects of each drug sound non-scary. This is REAL talent. Usually, the mere mentioning of these horrifying effects would make us lose our lunch. They usually sound like something out of a Stephen King novel. “Sudden death”, “Heart Attack”, “Stroke”, “Birth Defects”, “Cancer”, “uncontrollable Muscle Movements”, “Loss of Vision and Hearing” – these are just some of the medical horrors we all hear several times a day being rattled off at the end of almost every drug commercial. Earlier today I heard a commercial for a drug that listed “Uncontrolled Bleeding” as its side effect. Another one talked about a "Fatal Brain Condition". Yikes!

So why aren’t we all freaked out by the mere mentioning of these terrible things? It’s got to be ‘The Voice’. The calm, cool, soothing tones that help make the unthinkable seem downright palatable. Now that’s REAL rare talent.



I know that Scotty McCreery couldn’t do this in that twangy baritone (unless the side effect was an 'Achey-Breaky Heart'). Forget about Kelly Clarkson too. Fantasia and Adam Lambert would probably have the opposite effect and make the nasty side effects sound even worse than they are (if that’s even possible).



No, I think that we all can agree that it takes a one in a million type voice to pull this magic act off.

Everything else about my new show would loosely follow the trusty, rusty American Idol formula. Instead of Ryan Seacrest, actor Hugh Laurie could be the host. The winner would get a million dollar deal making commercials for some multinational pharmaceutical company. The judges could be a panel of former pharmaceutical reps. Instead of Coca-Cola, the contest could be sponsored by Panera’s (the unofficial supplier of free Doctor’s lunches in the pharmaceutical industry). Instead of the Kodak Theater, the final show could take place at the AAFP National Convention. The show practically writes itself.



Aside from the entertainment value, the show would provide a much needed service for industry as well. With the continuous release of poorly tested, overpriced pharmaceuticals being unleashed on the American public, Big Pharm is going to need all the spokesmen and women to convince us that that new acne drug is worth risking that brain tumor for.

Hey, Fox Network, let’s cut a deal. Call Me! I’m in the book.



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