Aaron's Got Talent

(This blog is a little longer than normal. If I had an editor (or readers) I'd trim it down a tad. I figured I'd record as much as I remembered. In this case, it was quite a bit)

A few months ago, a friend of mine decided to sign up for the America’s Got Talent 2015 (AGT) auditions in Santa Clara (near San Francisco). Instead of just heading out to support her, a couple other singing friends and I decided to sign up too. We figured even though we didn’t stand much of a chance, the experience would be worth it. After doing it, I’d say it was.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, America’s Got Talent is basically American Idol, but with less signing and more animal acts. I’ve been watching since season 5 after my son showed me a few clips on-line and wanted to watch the actual show. It was family friendly,  had a lot of variety, and very likable judges (Howie Mandel, Sharon Osborne, and Piers Morgan at the time). We were hooked.

I’d always enjoyed singing. I have a good voice, though I’m no Freddie Mercury. I discovered I like singing in front of an audience when I started doing karaoke while stationed in Guam and Hawaii. I experimented with new songs and discovered I had more range than I thought. After seeing America’s Got Talent, I had occasionally flirted with the idea of auditioning, but living in Hawaii made it difficult to tryout. Now that I live in California, I really had no excuse.

One thing to mention is the AGT auditions are not the ones you see on TV. We weren’t going to sing in front of the judges, fearing the audience would boo enough to make the red “X” buzz in. But we knew that going in.

After letting everyone know the four of us signed up, I found out the first wrinkle in our plan. We had to pick a song, it had to be 90 seconds or less, and it had to be a cappella. My singing experience is about 49% karaoke, 50% the Rock Band video game. Only 1% has been singing a cappella in public, and that consisted entirely of me belting out the National Anthem in the gym during 6^th grade (there was no event I was supposed to be opening, and my reward was detention that afternoon). One of the biggest reasons is I can never remember lyrics unless I’m singing along with the song. During Karaoke, my eyes are glued to the screen, even though I’ve sung “Living La Vida Loca” a hundred times.

As anyone would do in this situation, I Googled “how to pick an a cappella song for an audition”. The consensus of advice was to pick something that shows off your range, pick a song that isn’t done to death, pick a song that isn’t original or obscure, and find a way to make it your own. I went to my go-to karaoke list and recorded myself singing a bunch of songs in my car (Privacy is a very rare thing in the Eischens household…). Hearing the recordings made me realize how repetitive most songs are, and how much they depend on the accompanying music and backup singers.

Every showbiz story involves Denny's

 I decided to go with “Drive” by Incubus, with a couple backups just in case (the AGT FAQ suggests you have an extra prepared). It had good range, and it wasn’t too famous or obscure. I even added some twists to make it “mine”. Our audition group decided to try out our songs in front of each other outside of a local sushi bar. We sang our primary and backup and voted on which one was a better fit. The group liked my backup, “Keep Me in Mind” by the Zac Brown Band better. They said it had more passion in it. I avoided it because I felt it didn’t show off as much range, but I was happy with it all the same.

We carpooled from Sacramento, setting sail at 4 AM. When you register, you pick an audition time. Mine was 8 AM, and the rest of my group were 12 and 3PM. The 3PM drove separately, so the two 12 o’clocks drove down with me. None of us got much sleep the night before, so we were chasing our dreams, riding on a caffeine high. We made excellent time, and chose to waste an hour at the local Denny’s because all super-star journeys begin at Denny’s.

The Pre-line line

We arrived at the Santa Clara Convention center, right across the street from Levis Stadium, home of the Santa Clara, er, San Francisco 49ers. The parking garage was bare and we wondered if we were in the right place. We were reassured when several costumed dancers exited a nearby vehicle. Nearing the entrance, we saw the line of the other AGT hopefuls. It wasn’t too bad of a line, considering they hadn’t let anyone in yet. Chatting with some of the other line-dwellers confirmed what we already suspected; the appointment times are merely suggestions. My two 12 o’clock companions were happy that we could all go in together, then wait for our 3PM friend to show up.

Too late to turn back now!

We received wristbands, and a sticker with numbers on it. We quickly made our way through the registration desk and started thinking ahead to what we were going to do with the rest of the day since things were going so smoothly. Good thing we didn’t make any reservations, because we had a long day ahead of us.

The registration line

Immediately after signing in, we went to the large “holding room” where hundreds of other hopefuls sat in randomly placed chairs. The holding room was a giant room, about the size of a basketball gym. In the center was a dance floor which was intended for dancing acts to practice on, but it was used for that and quite a bit of filming as we’d later learn.We located 3 free chairs that were strangely arranged in a circle. I later learned that they were intentionally placed like that. My companions headed off to one of the randomly located makeup mirrors to erase the 4 AM road trip, so I turned my attention to the info sheet every entrant was supposed to fill out.

My life story, as far as AGT is concerned.

Since I am a “good” singer but not a “great” one, my strategy was to play up my military status and how I haven’t been able to pursue a singing career because of it and my kids. Laziness has a lot to do with it too, but AGT is first and foremost a television show. Yes, the people who make it to the televised version are talented to varying degrees, they also have compelling stories to go with it. A couple of mediocre young singers made it to the semi-finals in 2010 primarily because they played up their cysticfibrosis. I’m a slightly better singer in good health, but the show seems to have a soft-spot for singing vets.

With my co-audtioners all prettied up, we ventured forth to see what kind of people were milling about in the holding room. I kept myself amused by trying to pick out some of the people I’d expect to see on the show when it aired. There was “Bruce Leroy” who took his karate very seriously. 

KISS

There was a quirky opera(ish) singer wearing a purple shirt and a conquistador helmet. Another guy wore a Next Generation Starfleet uniform and had an Enterprise hat (I can only imagine his “talent”). A KISS era gene Simmons look-a-like, a belly dancer with a chandelier on her head, and a robot that
didn’t appear to do much other than blankly stare off into space were some of the other highlights.

We came across a teenage country singer hopeful and a trio of musicians who played jazzy acoustic versions of Frank Sinatra songs. They asked the country singer what song she wanted to sing. She requested “Ring of Fire”. We got kind of excited because we all knew the song and were going to sing along. I especially wanted to show off my baritone, Johnny Cash voice. They asked what key she wanted and she kind of stammered. Before she could answer, she was whisked away by a producer who wanted to film her and her grandfather. I’m not really sure why she stood out enough for them to want to film her, but I could never quite figure out why they picked most of the people they did.

The stray country singer we picked up.

Once she left, the musicians asked what we were singing. My co-talent nudged me and I told them my song, “Keep me In Mind”. Then they asked what key.  This was when I realized how much of an amateur I really was. I never knew I had to know what key my songs were in. I always just let the music guide me. I told him I didn’t know, so he told me just to sing it and he’d figure it out. I was suddenly nervous. I hadn’t sung to anyone other than my group and the unfortunate passersby outside the sushi place. I had a false start, but got it right the second time. He told me it was an A flat, then asked if I could find it on a piano. Despite my limited instrumental career, I actually did know how to find it. He said that there will be a keyboard in the audition room and to hit that key before I start so I can be in key. I thanked him and before we started a song, they were called away to audition.

Actual talent.

In the two hours we had been there, they had only called about 50 acts to audition. We were numbered 261-263, so it was going to be a while. The initial excitement was wearing off and the reality of waking up at 3 AM was beginning to hit us. The cell service was almost non-existent, so our batteries drained quickly due to the phones trying to get a signal. I had the foresight to bring an external battery, but smacked my head when I realized I forgot the cable. Fortunately, the producers rounded us all up (well, anyone who wanted to go) and we headed outside to recreate our registrations.

One cannot have enough AGT selfies.

One poorly kept secret about “reality shows” is that many parts are staged or recreated. AGT is no different. I had already figured out a while ago that the interviews and shot of people waiting practicing before they went before the judges was filmed from an earlier audition. With the thousands that try-out for AGT (and other talent shows like American Idol and the Voice), it would be impossible for everyone to do it in front of the judges and an audience. They would be there for days. What I never realized is how many takes they did of those “candid” shots.

I had been a rainy morning, and the sun was finally peeking out. The producers wanted us to wait in a large line/gaggle and pretend to register when we got to the front. We were told to be happy and smile  (we all gave him a wide berth while he demonstrated). I chatted with my companions, one of whom was trying to get us all to sing a song together, but we were all drawing lyrical blanks. I “registered” again, which involved chatting with a guy at the table and receiving another number (no paperwork this time!). Once we were done, we were ushered to the end of the line to start over again. Fortunately, they finished before I had to register for the third time.
a lot, oh, and don’t look at the cameras. Many hopefuls saw this as an opportunity to stand out and we heard many singers, and saw several breakdance fights. Plus, Bruce Leroy made a cameo with his nun-chucks

Fell asleep mid-chip

We went back to our seats, hungry and tired. Our 3 PM friend was on her way and took orders for Subway. One of my co-auditoners took a nap, and I went on a quest for caffeine. I decided I wasn’t tired enough to pay $3 for a bottle of soda, and kept myself entertained by watching the film crew make the performers they filmed do their acts over and over again. I think it’s assumed all the large group acts (dancers, etc) will automatically move on, so they concentrated extensively on them. When they filmed some wide shots, I found out why our chairs were in random locations; they didn’t want it to look like we were all facing the dance floor as if it were a show and we were just the audience.

Our Subway Saviors!

They were about 25 numbers away from our group (They called people in by groups of 25 to 50). We didn’t dare venture too far in case we missed our numbers being called. Our 3 PM friend and her boyfriend let us know they were here. I rushed out greet our sandwiches, er, them. Even better, she had an iPhone cable! I rushed the cable and sandwiches back to our spot in the holding room. We ate and shared the charging cable like it was a joint. Not long after, they finally called our group of numbers.

Our group of 25 was led up to the audition area and we were broken up into smaller groups. There were about 10 different audition rooms. Most were for small ones solo acts, and a few were larger to accommodate groups. We waited outside of our room for about 10 minutes, then headed in.

The sign made no sense to
this guy either.

A smiling producer, hiding behind a Macbook sat at a table near the front of the room. Our group of 8 was told to line up on one side of the room, while any guardians of those under 18 sat on the other side. The producer cracked a few jokes to set us at ease. One of my co-auditioner volunteered to go first. She was directed to stand on an “X” made of tape and do her 90 second performance facing the producer. She let us know that the 90 second rule wasn’t absolute, but she’d cut us soon after if we exceeded the 90 seconds. My co-auditioner did a great job, then the rest of us were called up in random order. With the exception of a young saxophone player, we were all singers. Fortunately I was the only adult male (a 10 year old boy belted out a beautiful “Ave Maria”) so I didn’t have to worry about comparisons.

5 hour wait to get in
another line!

While watching the others, I noticed a lack of a camera. I had heard they filmed all of the auditions, which made perfect sense. They supposedly do not make decisions on the spot, so how else would they remember each performance? I also noticed there was no keyboard. Oh well. I would have to use my newly learned key trick some other time.

Everyone was pretty impressive. My heart sank for one 14 year old whose nerves got the best of her, and she couldn’t perform. I wound up being the last performer. I went to my X, answered a few questions, and then started my song. About the only thing I was nervous about up to this point was forgetting the lyrics (especially in my shortened version). Once I started, the words just flowed out effortlessly and my nerves were pretty much gone. The producer maintained eye contact with me the whole song, which made me wonder how much eye contact I was supposed to return. She was either a really good producer or she genuinely enjoyed my song because I felt like she was into my performance. Either way, I finished my song with a rush of relief.

We'll see these guys again

The producer gave the 14 year old a second opportunity to sing, but she refused. The producer let us know that we’d find out if we’d made it to the next round in 3-4 weeks. She thanked us and told us to wait outside until we were dismissed, in case she needed to call any of us back. None of us were and we were finally done with the day! Well, kind of…

We had initially planned to stay the whole day and support each other all the way through each audition. I knew it would be a lot of “hurry up and wait”, but didn’t expect it to take 5 ½ hours from registration to audition. Our 3 PM friend was facing another 5 hours herself. I boldly announced we’d stay a couple hours then head home. About 20 minutes later, my co-auditioners asked 3 PM if she wouldn’t mind if we left. She said no problem and understood. Besides, she and her boyfriend had a lot of freshly charged electronic companions to keep them entertained. We wished her luck, then headed back to the car.

We stopped at a Mexican restaurant and the Coffee Bean to fuel up for the trip home. 3 PM excitedly texted us while we ate. She had been filmed by the AGT crew right after we left. They did some shots of her getting ready. I joked that we were the reasons the cameras were shying away, so she was good to go now. We wished her luck, then headed back to Sacramento.

As of the two-week post-audition mark, we haven’t heard anything back. I’m not really expecting to. A generous estimate would figure about 95% of everyone that auditioned that day won’t make it. It’s not that they aren’t talented enough. Like I said, America’s Got Talent is a TV show. They need the best (or worst in some cases) combination of variety, talent, and backstory. A lot of it is being in the right place at the right time. The thing is, you’ll never be in the right place if you don’t get out in the first place. I know I don’t have much of a shot, but I got out there anyway.