Grading The Voice: An Introduction

I gave up television because of American Idol.

It’s true. It was 2004 and I was obsessed by it and angry with it. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with television.

Despite giving up broadcast television entirely, I still followed Idol by way of video swatches through Season 8. There I felt like I saw the two halves of my musical taste duke it out on screen – the artistry and interpretation of Kris Allen versus the genre-bending showmanship of Adam Lambert.

That was it for me and Idol. I thought I’d finally be free of televised singing competitions.

Then, in the past week, I started to hear about The Voice. (Remember, I don’t have the benefit of TV commercials to inform me of these happenings. I read about it on the internets.)

Four relevant, millions-selling artist mentors meant be constructive rather than destructive in their search. A search not for comically bad auditions, or style over substance. but for a remarkable, memorable voice.

The Voice. Which, aside from original Idol Clarkson, Cowell and Co. have never truly managed.

The glowing reviews wore down my “no television” stance far enough that I sampled a smattering of auditions last night. I was completely blown away. Of the four I sampled, even the worst one was someone I’d consider buying an an entire album from.

It begs the question – can a voice be relevant without an image? What if one of the contestants has a face for radio, an issue presaged by that Buggles classic? What happens after the blind audition is over and a mentor gets stuck with someone fugly?

Begrudgingly, I was hooked enough to want to find out. I spent last night last night watching the first two episodes of this madcap show that’s a twisted concoction of X-Factor, Hollywood Squares, and The Dating Game.

The audition rounds fascinated me because the judges experienced the contestants the same way I listed to Idol for half a decade: blindly. I heard the songs on the internet without the hoopla of their sob stories, stage lights, and snarky judge comments. Someone might have had a pretty face and visual panache, but were they behind the beat? Did the big diva go flat on all of her major melisma moments? I noticed this stuff while watchers ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the stage show.

On the other side, I am these contestants. I’m a singer. I’m an artist who has spent many years trying to turn heads in my direction. I’ve tried subtlety and screaming. The results depend on the room.

The auditions of The Voice were a solid B. Despite a lot of repeated soundbites and constant awkward interruptions by a bumbling, arithmetic-spouting Carson Daly, the three hours of show flew by. Never too long with one contestant, just enough time in the undeniably magical presence of the mentors.