In our house, we don’t have TV. And not because we’re on that crack-political agenda bandwagon… God knows I love me some mindless TV. But up here in the sticks, it’s all static without cable. And cable is hella expensive. Netflix (bless it!) is cheap. Internet TV (Survivor, The Office, etc.) is free.

We make do.

But last week, while visiting my fully cable-equipped parents’ house, it was a no-holds-barred, all-out, brain-numbing TV bonanza: Deal or No Deal, Dancing with the Stars, and that gravy train, top-dog of shows, American Idol.

Man, it was bad. But still, I watched along with 30 million other walleyed viewers.

Why?

For the most part, and to be fair (because honestly, I wanted to gag my eyeballs out) the singing is fine… if hitting the notes is the standard, those kids certainly have me beat. So I guess you call that “talent.”

But musicianship? Artistry? Not even close.

Let’s be clear, Idol contestants are performers. And while I applaud courage (after all, performing in front of 30 million people takes guts), they are not legends-in-the-making. Will YOU be following Kelly Clarkson’s career in 10 years?

First and foremost, the music on American Idol just plain sucks. And I don’t mean the songs themselves (overall), I mean the whole package, the actual music. Even the classics — at best, mere props for the aforementioned “talent.”

But last week wasn’t about brazen attempts to out-do the likes of Al Green, Freddie Mercury or Elton John. That might have been less painful. Instead, Mariah Carey guest-starred, so the show focused on her music (if you can call it music). Each performer had to cover one of her songs… apparently the new high-bar that America’s aspiring “musicians” are aiming for. Egads.

Admittedly, I had a moment of blushing reflection. Is that what my parents thought, back in my Madonna days?

Madonna, at least, was undeniably interesting. She made up for her lack of musicianship with stunts… the hairdos, the fingerless lace gloves, the cone-boobs, the dry-humping… we ate it up.

What’s interesting about Idol is the wrong notes, the embarrassment, the tears, the unpredictability, the drama, the inevitable Cowell-induced squirming, the witnessing of shattered dreams, hell, even Cowell’s accent is utterly captivating to the average land-locked American. But the potential of failure, that’s the real dog-and-pony-show. We get high off it. Perfect is boring, mistakes are exciting! Now that’s fucked up. Albeit, remarkably human.

And the humanity is the draw. It’s a kind of voyeuristic-awe, a window into someone else’s adventure (or misadventure), bundled in the irresistibly compelling notion of “That could be me!” Evocative. Relatable. Addictive.

Plus, there’s power. There’s the voting. The idea that we, the viewers, have a substantial amount of control over each performer’s destiny is deliciously Machiavellian. Even that qualifies as shared experience. The connection is there.

When you think about it, this sort of innately irresistible appeal is what allows connection to outweigh actual musicianship, it’s what allows performance to trump art. So it was no surprise when the Idol caller who mentioned National Record Store Day received an awkward silent pause in response — as if to say not “Who knew?” but instead “Huh? What’s a record store?”

Certainly, when it comes to most Idol viewers, we’re not dealing with record collectors or investors in music (dropping a paltry $.99 per song does not qualify you as an investor). Hence, content, a.k.a. quality is not king. And although some people would suggest that this is a recent phenomenon, the opposite is true. Think about it. How many times have you been to a concert where the sound was crap, your seat was crap, the beer was crap… but still, you came away having the time of your life? The songs sounded different than they did on the record — a good thing. There were wrong notes — you loved every one of them. You felt a connection. If you were at a Ryan Adams concert, maybe he played the same song three times in a row, God bless him. Brilliant. Because it was imperfect. Because it was REAL.

And real is king. Yet in a world of digital audio, the autotune, the overdubs, etc., what is real, what is wonderful, gets stripped away. The goal is absolute PERFECTION. Lifeless, utterly boring perfection. Anyone with a computer can achieve it, you no longer have to be an actual musician to make “music.” You’ve heard this one:

What did the ProTools engineer say to the band? That sucked, come on in.

Even Madonna figured out that it was high-time she at least learned to play the guitar. Less provocative stunting, but still, real.

All I’m saying is what if we combined what is real with what is great? Unheard of, right? Is it so much more work to raise the standards, to create something more than entertaining… a timeless lollapalooza of both humanity and caliber? Something both captivating and world-class? The kind of thing that people would even be willing to pay for?

Oh yeah, it’s called HBO.

So here’s an idea for you Bill Nelson: on the off chance you guys wanted to get into the reality-TV game, why not kick Fox’s ass with a show for the rest of us: how about a TV version of real-life Guitar Hero, something of an American Guitar Idol? Now that would be worth watching. Seriously. I might even reconsider paying for cable.

© Outlandos MusicTM 2008