As I scrub the soot from my NBC issue designer dinner jacket post this week's twitter flaming (from villagers who were upset about this past Monday's decision), allow me to offer my perspective on reality TV and reality.
On reality TV, the talented Afro-Blue was 'sent home'. In reality they're not at home, they're in Los Angeles preparing for their guest spot on "The Sing-Off" season finale with Smokey Robinson.
On reality TV, we're holding a competition. In reality, we're involved in a music form that is by nature, nearly void of competitive ego. That's why a cappella is so special. It's about harmony and working together while a usual singing competition is about divas, ego, dissonance, and of course, music.
The worlds of competitive reality TV and harmonious singing are always going to have a rocky marriage, but this was the 'way in' for the producers of this show who have for years wanted to create a mass forum for a cappella music. I believe we've been a successful and unique music show while we haven't generally been so slick at the competition part. Maybe we've gotten it backwards from most of the other singing shows. We are in many ways the opposite of the singing shows from which we were born.
We had quite a wonderful problem this season: too many great groups. Some of my favorite lead vocalists like Moi and Ruby left early. I've kept in touch with many of the groups who are now off the show, have loaned my studio, arranged vocal coaches, had groups guest on tour, hired them for recordings, attended gigs, passed their details to producers, labels, writers and so forth. This includes Afro-Blue, and the other two judges have done their share as well. When it all feels like such a family in reality, it saddens me that the vibe after Monday temporarily resembles normal reality TV.
I've found that a common dynamic on this show is that a musically advanced group will often have little or no interest in drama or entertainment. Our unspoken intuition is to help keep interest in them by influencing musically dramatic narratives through our comments so they don't come across as 'boring'. We essentially said to Afro-Blue "You are over the public's head and should find a way to relate," for instance. The musical challenge of that can be rewarding too if surmounted; it's called growth and it's not comfortable. I admitted in my last blog that I felt we might have overplayed that a bit with Afro-Blue.
Unexpectedly, Afro-Blue came a bit unglued as they tried to simplify their arrangements, but also because after the second show (as I only recently found out) they lost their regular arranger, the sublimely brilliant Connaitre Miller, to the Autumn semester schedule back at Howard, and had to arrange themselves with some outside help. (Note: their last performance of Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come" was a Connaitre arrangement. Big difference). I believe that record deals and TV shows are short term, while careers, artistry, connections, memories, and lessons are for life. In that way, we all won because we learned. Afro-Blue's guest spot with Smokey this Monday came about by my pitching the idea to our producers, who love them as much as I do. They were supportive and made it happen.
I should point out that a group like Vocal Point on a very good day kicked out occasional jazz elements on par with Afro-Blue and they did it while dancing - never really being recognized for their complexity. Pentatonix never came unglued as a result of early criticism, and they flourished. Urban Method's overall sound was unreal live, literally dwarfing the sound of the poor group that had to come after; that dynamic would be impossible to relay on a broadcast. In reality, a musical artist makes their mark and sells records in the world of multimedia. When someone suggests that we chose entertainment over musicality, I'd point out that a very viable future commercial outlet for a cappella music may well be on Broadway and not on the radio. Dartmouth?
Let's turn all the energy this week into long-term support for your favorite groups. If I find out that a year from now you've dropped the ball after roasting my ass on Monday night then I'm going to come find you and make you listen to 12 tone music in a sweat box! While you're giving them support over the next year, try a little experiment: Survey the year's prime time network programming and get back to me with a list of live jazz performances you saw - hell, make that ten years. When I say it's a miracle that we got vocal jazz on TV, I'm speaking reality. Further, I'm not commenting on the intelligence of the viewers but instead on the tolerance, systems, research, and paradigm of reality TV. Yes, it's often a vapid paradigm but that paradigm exists thanks to us all - we all created it and supported it the same, as we're all responsible for the atrophy of our education system. You can hide under a rock and ignore it, or you can roll up your sleeves and get inside it and try to make a change. But expect to take some knocks because reality is more complicated than reality TV.
I'm proud of our imperfect show because it's launching careers and inspiring millions. If you can't acknowledge that there is compromise and honest error in life or if you don't operate under the assumption that everyone is doing their best, then I suppose you might find yourself desperately frustrated - maybe enough so to engage in some Twitter rage over a TV show. I always aspire to admit my mistakes and acknowledge my compromises (both of which I've made on this show). Try it. It only hurts a little and you won't be as bitter on Tuesday morning.
God Bless 'Merkuh
Ben
