I want to be an ‘Idol’: Truth behind auditions

On the day of my "American Idol" audition, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. with high expectations and to a torrential Seattle September downpour. Today was the day that I might meet the Holy Trinity of rock star promise, the guardians to the gate of all things Hollywood hip — Randy, Paula, and Simon. 

Pondering the greater questions in life (like how I would tell Paula that “Forever Your Girl” was my favorite album growing up), I donned my cute outfit, moussed my hair, and hurried on my way.  When I got to Key Arena, home of the Seattle SuperSonics and Audition Central, it was 6:30 am, it was still pouring down rain.

I began to wonder what the point was of waking up early and trying to make myself look good if I was just going to stand for hours and have my face melt off.  Perhaps the rain was a test of endurance, or a baptism, cleansing my mind of all doubt and fear. 

I walked all around the complex trying to find the back of the line, and after what seemed like a mile, I took up my place at the end.  The line continued to build for what looked to be several city blocks behind me.

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While waiting in line, I met a pretty blonde girl named Jessica, who had flown in from LA for the audition.  She had auditioned once before and was more than willing to share her experiences.  When I asked her for any advice, she looked at me with serious eyes and relayed a message that I shall share with you, the reader: Remember that first and foremost this is a reality TV show, not a talent show.  At Jessica's previous audition, she reported that a girl dressed up like the Statue of Liberty was ushered in to see the producers without even having to audition. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses desperate for fame.

At eight o’clock, they began letting people in the auditorium, but it was still another hour before everyone got inside.  Once everyone was settled, people began to chat excitedly — were they there?  The Randy, The Paula and The Holy Terror? 

Rumors were circulating rampantly, and I heard from one girl that William Hung had been outside distributing donuts.  Apparently we were already in the midst of warbling royalty, and I had no idea.

We built this city on 50+ takes
We expected the auditions to begin immediately, but alas, that was not the case.  No, first we had to film the crowd shots for the show that would air three months later, in January.  A man on a mike explained to us that the cameras would be making large sweeps of the crowd and that we were expected to follow his instructions. Several people around me began to complain. The three girls in front of me slumped down in their seats and napped.

Slide show   Singing in the rain See and hear “American Idol” auditioners singing in the rain

At the ticket distribution, the "American Idol" staff had informed contestants that we should be familiar with Starship's 1985 "We Built This City." (Named the  "the #1 Most Awesomely Bad Song Ever" by Blender Magazine in 2004, though that fact wasn't mentioned.)

If we weren’t familiar with the song when we got to the auditions, we were definitely well acquainted afterwards. We sang the song all the way through, standing and cheering as the cameras passed overhead.  And then we sang it again.  And then we sang it fifty more times, just for good measure. 

We built that city on rock and roll for what felt like hundreds of times, and we were tired.  None of us were there to become carpenters or construction workers — we wanted to be rock stars, and this was just a repetitive means of keeping us from our destiny.  Once the song was over, there was a collective sigh of relief, but the producers were nowhere near done with us.

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The crowd was also told to repeat phrases that the producers thought would make catchy introductions to the show or advertisement teasers, such as, “Cheer up, Simon, it’s only rain,” and “I’m the next American Idol,” where we had to point at ourselves as the camera swooped overhead.  Apparently several of us had difficulty pointing on cue, because we did that take several times. 

Inspired by the liquid sunshine falling outside, one of the producers went out on a limb and made the oh-so-original decision that we should sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head." The last-minute decision unnerved some singers, who didn't know the lyrics. The boy next to me kept singing, “raindrops keep falling on my head, but that doesn’t mean my life will soon be over, dead.”

We sang that song, too, over and over and over again, and then we were asked to open our umbrellas and twirl them about.  Then we moved them from side to side with the cadence of the song.  And then we twirled them some more.  I wondered how Fox would feel about getting sued when someone inevitably poked their eye out given the tiny space we were squeezed into, but there was no bloodshed, just grumbling.

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