The Bush administration has incurred its share of backlash from the music community. The Vote for Change Tour in 2004 had the likes of Springsteen, R.E.M. and Dave Matthews stumping for lame-duck John Kerry. Current albums from the Dixie Chicks, Neil Young and Pearl Jam further an anti-war, anti-administration stance. Protest songs and political activism not seen from musicians since the '60s have returned. But the largest and most subtle response to the current political climate comes from an unlikely source—American Idol.
This is where I go all Malcolm Gladwell/Freakonomics and expose the real, secret logic behind some pop-culture phenomenon. It is my thesis that Idol's unstoppable and unparalleled popularity (now in its fifth season; reality shows like Survivor, Regis' Millionaire and The Osbournes couldn't sustain intense public interest for more than a season or two) is a by-product of the American public's desire for democracy at a time in our history when contemporary politics is a two-party disaster.
Democracy, in its traditional forms, is dead. Cynicism is rampant. We're turning away from science and regressing to religion. We have no hope, no prospects for the future. McCain was once an outlaw, now he's part of the machine. Hillary's a late-night punchline. Giuliani is too New York. Obama is too black. The Democrats can't run anyone even remotely associated with the Kerry/'04 debacle. Harry Reid is the kid you stuffed in a locker in middle school.
But Simon, Paula, Randy and an almost laughably diverse group of contestants make for the most democratic entity in contemporary America. Is it great music? No. But as Walt Whitman once said, "I hear America singing." He just didn't know that we'd be singing Top 40 covers, Stevie Wonder hits and glorified karaoke. It's not just can't-miss TV. It's the masses at work.
The masses can't name you the speaker of the House or the secretary of defense, but they're still Americans, and they've been programmed with democracy since birth. The "reality show" is usually cheap escapism. And, yes, well-written, filmic TV gets ratings, with shows like Lost, The Sopranos and 24 garnering critical acclaim and big numbers. But Idol is in its own league. It's a ratings juggernaut. It's been on the cover of seemingly every magazine in America. It's water-cooler television not seen since the heyday of Cheers or Seinfeld.
Its appeal baffles me. I don't even enjoy watching people I know do karaoke, but Americans are tuning in, twice a week, mind you, with amazing regularity. The democracy theory is the only thing it could be. The public feels impotent, voiceless. Nothing they do changes anything or improves their lives. But here is a forum where pluralism still exists. And, unlike at the polls in November, people vote for this. There aren't two weaselly candidates representing parties both controlled by corporations, special interests and greed, politicos who won't institute any real change. No, American Idol gives us a broad spectrum. Here the libertarians, the socialists and the Green Party stand a chance. Here, hip-hop vies with soul, country with rock, hamminess with extreme hamminess. Various aesthetics, regions, races and genders are represented. They smile and seem excited about what they're doing. They all get equal time and there is genuine suspense surrounding the results.
It's not particularly good or original (Star Search did it 20 years ago, and that show had stand-up comedy, acting, dancing, spokesmodels and cute kids; Ted Mack's Amateur Hour did it before that, from 1948 to 1970, back when viewers voted by postcard), and it's not particularly artful, but it redeems our inbred ideals about democracy and pluralism. Either that or most Americans just have really bad taste in music.