13 August 2006
Idol time
The newest instalment of Australian Idol has just started. Louise and the boys watch it and have a laugh at the no-hopers and jokers (and the judges too). I can’t bear to watch, mainly because of the no-hopers, but also because of the ‘good’ ones.
What I see and hear, apart from a very high proportion of mediocre singing ability, is an apalling lack of originality. I just see all these people trying to be someone else. Someone who sings with soul. Someone who sounds American. Anyone but themselves.
A few years ago my sister took me to this nightclub in the Valley. After a few minutes in there, my sister met up with a few people she knew. This young geeky looking lad in his very wearly twenties took a liking to my sister, so he befriended me as a way of getting closer to his prize. He just hung around us for ages. This isn’t the main story. The main gist of this story is that on this particular night, it was called “Open Mike Night”. Anyway, this same very white, skinny lad grabbed the mike and delivered this brilliant rap rendition, as if he had come straight out of South Central LA. His voice was so precisely black american that you had to look twice to see if it was really him. Words came out at a hundred miles an hour - all deep, bassy and American accented and oozing attitude.
Hmmm, but was it original? Or doesn’t that matter?