LOS ANGELES — Backstage at a live broadcast of NBC’s “American Song Contest” last week, the crooner Michael Bolton looked relaxed as ever. He was well aware, though, that he was the odd contestant out.
“I’ve been asked, ‘Why would you get entangled with a show like this?’” he said after performing his inspirational ballad “Beautiful World” within the second semifinal. “And my first answer is my instinct, which is that my love for writing music is such an indelible, everlasting love and fervour of mine that it makes perfect sense.”
“It’s just a little nerve-racking at times,” he added. “I’m definitely not the youngest person within the room.”
Bolton is 69, if anybody’s counting, and he did make it to the ultimate round of this reality competition series, through which representatives from each of the 50 United States — in addition to five U.S. territories and the District of Columbia — have competed every Monday night since March 21. (Bolton represents Connecticut.) Inspired by the Eurovision Song Contest and hosted by Kelly Clarkson and Snoop Dogg, the show pits stars against hopefuls for the title of Best Original Song.
When Bolton goes up against the opposite nine finalists on Monday night, many of the competition shall be lower than half his age, including: Grant Knoche, a 19-year old Texan who toured with Kidz Bop; Jordan Smith, who won the 2015 edition of “The Voice” at 22; and AleXa, 25, who was born and raised in Oklahoma but moved to Seoul to pursue a profession in K-pop.
In lots of circumstances, Bolton’s experience and star power might confer an automatic advantage. Just don’t tell that to Jewel (Alaska), Macy Gray (Ohio) and Sisqó (Maryland), all of whom were eliminated in earlier rounds.
“In some ways it’s harder for the more established artists,” said Audrey Morrissey, an executive producer of “A.S.C.” and “The Voice.” “They’re not on competition shows like this. There’s more at stake for them than for somebody that nobody knows.”
Still, it’s difficult for a young artist to perform for thousands and thousands of viewers with a lot riding on the final result. Perhaps the query that counts most heading into the ultimate is just: Who has the most effective song?
Amid rehearsals for the May 2 semifinal, and backstage in the course of the broadcast, several contestants talked about their appreciation for the show’s emphasis on original material. The Tennessee-based singer-songwriter Tyler Braden had considered trying out for one more TV singing competition earlier in his profession, but he ultimately decided against it.
Now he’s among the many finalists, announced Wednesday, with a song he wrote called “Seventeen.” (The vast majority of contestants had a minimum of a hand in writing their very own songs.)
“I’ve all the time believed that the song is No. 1,” Braden, 33, said in his dressing room before the printed, wearing jeans and a ball cap. “You’ll be able to look the part, and your shows may be amazing, but it surely comes right down to the song, and the lyrics and the melody, the texture — and this contest is all about that.”
Given all of the talk of American polarization in 2022, I used to be curious whether any interstate tensions could be palpable off-camera. But everybody I observed appeared genuinely to get along. The word “camaraderie” popped up in every conversation.
“I’ve made so many great friends out of this, lifelong friends,” Knoche, from Texas, said. “I feel just like the whole show just brings states and everybody together much more.”
In rehearsals, I watched the rootsy Chloe Fredericks (North Dakota), the conceptual-pop princess Stela Cole (Georgia) and the EDM-friendly Broderick Jones (Kansas) groove along to the lilting, island-flavored ballad “Full Circle” by Tenelle (American Samoa), then clap enthusiastically. The Latina girl group Sweet Taboo (California) and the dance-R&B diva Enisa (Latest York) laughed off my wheedling about their place in any costal rivalry (made moot when neither made it to the ultimate).
Considering several of the contestants were making their live-television debut, most appeared almost freakishly calm. Essentially the most vocal behind the scenes was Tenelle, all revved up after rehearsal. “I don’t want this to be over,” she said. “But I need to win this mother!”
Exuberance appeared to be Tenelle’s factory setting but still: She knew she needed to kill it on the actual broadcast. (And he or she did; she’ll be in the ultimate Monday night.)
Some eliminations have been unexpected, to say the least. (Cuts are determined by a points system that mixes audience and jury votes to balance the advantage of larger states.) The charismatic cowboy rapper Ryan Charles (Wyoming), whose song “Latest Boot Goofin’” was an early favorite of Snoop’s and proved extremely TikTok-able, didn’t make it past the semifinal. And I used to be personally upset when John Morgan (North Carolina) and his Taylor Swift-like ballad “Right within the Middle” didn’t make the cut.
But such are the realities of competition, and all of the contestants received notes from the creative staff after rehearsal to assist them improve their probabilities. “Charm is all,” said Christer Bjorkman, one in every of several Swedish executive producers, all of whom have connections to Eurovision. He and Tenelle were in a windowless viewing room, scrutinizing the third run-through of “Full Circle,” which involved a not-negligible amount of pyrotechnics.
“It’s all about contact,” Bjorkman he told her. It was about connecting with the camera and, thus, the audience.
For Allen Stone (Washington), producers suggested that he tone things down for his blue-eyed soul entry, “A Little bit of Each.” “I used to be attempting to put some extra mustard on my vocal,” he said, only to be told, “It’s a very good song; don’t over-sing’” — advice possibly never uttered within the history of “American Idol” or “The Voice.”
Whatever Stone did worked; his performance on April 25 put him through to the ultimate.
Despite the great songs and high production values, the show’s rankings have been underwhelming. I asked Morrissey why she thought they weren’t higher.
“I do know that everyone’s upset,” she said, visibly wincing under her mask. “However it is a giant, recent brand. It’s a really different type of mechanism — there isn’t one other show where performance happens and there isn’t a critique right after.” No evisceration from Simon Cowell. No bromantic hugs from Adam Levine.
The emphasis on song craft could have added to the growing pains. “That has been a giant query for us this whole time: If someone makes it to the ultimate, they’re going to perform the identical song the identical way thrice,” Morrissey said. “Is our American audience going to get that?”
European viewers definitely have, though it wouldn’t be the primary time trans-Atlantic tastes differed. Since 1956, Eurovision, through which artists from different countries compete, has been an establishment, making international stars out of acts like ABBA (Sweden, 1974) and Maneskin (Italy, 2021). Given the uncertainty, “A.S.C.” producers “made a really purposeful decision to return out of the gate with big performances,” Morrissey said, referring to the show’s lavish production — very much within the Eurovision tradition, though still nowhere near that contest’s camp excesses.
Two individuals who didn’t need convincing were the “A.S.C.” hosts, who’ve a long time of combined songwriting experience: Clarkson, who catapulted to fame after winning the primary “American Idol” in 2002, has even blurted out, “I need to do that one!” after some numbers.
“I didn’t realize how amazing those songs were going to be,” she said while getting made up for the live broadcast. “You’ve got these beautiful ballads from Hueston or Michael,” she added, referring to the mononymic artist from Rhode Island and to Bolton. “And you could have these fast ones like AleXa — from fricking Oklahoma!”
Finding viable contestants from some states wasn’t easy, however the search turned up some gems. Fredericks, of the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation, was spotted playing in Hollywood by some scouts. They were blissful to learn she was from North Dakota.
“They said ‘Well, we don’t have anybody from there,’” Fredericks, 24, said with a booming laugh which will help explain why she appeared to be the entire other contestants’ recent best friend.
“I used to be very surprised that I went through the primary round because I’m a small artist and a few of us here have larger followings,” she added. She did that and more: On Monday, she’ll be within the finals.
Regardless of the show’s probabilities for a Season 2, the concept of “A.S.C.” seems to have pleased the hosts, who volunteered individually that they loved being free simply to cheerlead.
“That’s the sweetness: that I don’t need to be the judge, that I don’t need to put my decision-making on who moves on,” Snoop said during a business break. “I may be open and just benefit from the performances,” he added. “I don’t don’t have any dog on this fight.”