Not Even Earthbound Goddess Kelly Clarkson Can Save ‘American Song Contest’

Chris Haston/Dave Bjerke/NBC
Chris Haston/Dave Bjerke/NBC
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The Eurovision Song Contest, if you’re lucky enough to be familiar, is an international fever dream—a cavalcade of nationalism filtered through an absinthe trip costumed by Cinderella’s mice and set to music that, occasionally, resembles an actual song.

Sure, Céline Dion and ABBA are former competitors. So, too, were a Latvian group called Pirates of the Sea—one need not a particularly active imagination to picture their wardrobe and vibe—and a puppet named Dustin the Turkey who sang a song titled “Irelande Douze Pointe” roasting his home country: “Give us another chance / We’re sorry for Riverdance.”

What a feast of outrageous entertainment: an annual, global delirium of joy. So leave it to America to take away all the fun.

American Song Contest, NBC’s much-promoted, historic U.S. version of the competition, premiered Monday night, and was a fascinating thing to judge—though not in ways you would think if you read that first paragraph. (Where! Were! The! Turkey! Puppets!?)

It’s a reality music competition that does fix what have grown to be the genre’s most exhausting problems as each network desperately attempts to recreate the magic the original run of American Idol had. Yet, with two glaring exceptions—one in the form of Kelly Clarkson, the other a sure-to-be viral hit of lunacy called “New Boot Goofin’”—the whole endeavor was egregiously bland for something so ambitious, let alone with such cheeky, anything-goes roots.

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As far as the spate of American reality music competitions go, American Song Contest is actually quite refreshing. Who knew what a pleasure it would be to excise the exploding egos masquerading as pointless celebrity judging panels? But as far as must-watch television? Even if we might be new-boot-goofin’ our way through the streets tomorrow—cursing Wyoming’s Ryan Charles the whole time (while simultaneously searching for TikToks riffing on the song)—the whole big premiere night was kind of a big ole meh.

Even if you’re a fairly jaded person—this writer raises his right hand—what’s being attempted here is pretty cool.

There are 56 acts from the 50 states and six U.S. territories, each competing with original songs. It’s a shame that we’re so overloaded by TV bombast that this alone probably isn’t exciting anymore, not in the age of Sarah Palin rapping to “Baby Got Back” while dressed as a pink teddy bear.

Like Eurovision, American Song Contest does have celebrities competing alongside the normals—well, normals who have millions of Spotify streams and YouTube views already. But here the celebrities are… Michael Bolton and Jewel.

Bolton competed in the premiere on behalf of his home state of Connecticut, exhibiting all the outsized charisma you’d expect from a Boomer that hails from Connecticut. While the most famous name of the night, he was maybe the least memorable, save for Clarkson being absolutely adorable playing fangirl after he sang.

Clarkson and Snoop Dogg serve as the show’s co-hosts. While the whole “we’re gonna pair a random white lady with Snoog Dogg, isn’t that funny?!” thing has long gotten old as a gimmick, they’re two incredibly likable TV presences. It’s almost unreal that Clarkson can be this magnetic and full of energy across each of her countless jobs in entertainment. True fact: Kelly Clarkson is officially considered a leading cause of the national employment crisis. She is Kim Kardashian’s “get your fucking ass up and work” tirade manifested. Better yet, she’s really good at this.

But even this divine goddess walking among all us unworthy plebeians can only do so much.

Across a bloated two hours, each contestant is introduced with a seemingly endless clip package that has them describing their home state—often poking fun at the stereotypes—while explaining the impact their local culture had on them and their music.

The Minnesota group Yam Haus jokes that, “Every time someone sneezes in Minnesota, a lake is born… And a hockey player.” Their song, “Ready to Go,” which opened the show, sounds like a track off a recent Jonas Brothers album. Or maybe Disney Channel-era Jonas Brothers. Mall-tour Jonas Brothers? (That would fit the whole state theme…)

Arkansas’ Kelsey Lamb, a country singer, rejects the idea that her state is full of hillbillies or isn’t worth visiting, making a strong case for the latter as she touts their famous cheese dip: “It’s like melting Velveeta and putting Ro-Tel in it.” Honestly, werk. She sings a song called “Never Like This,” which could be from any episode of The Voice over its 45-season run.

A cute, teen-idol-ready young gentleman named Jake’o from Wisconsin goes real hard into the whole cheese thing, too. But it turns out he used to work at a cheese plant, where he would literally cut the cheese. “That’s not a pun.” His next joke, about “R&Brie” music is, and we appreciate it. He’s a fourth generation Wisconsinite and currently lives in a century-old schoolhouse his grandmother once taught in. Going against expectations, his song, “Feel Your Love,” is what he self-describes as “nuvo” retro. He’s styled like Elvis in outer space. The whole thing is fun and ends with Kelly Clarkson wearing a cheesehead hat. Not mad about it.

The truly great thing about American Song Contest is the focus on artistry. Again, the acts are all performing original songs, and they’re available to stream after each episode. Rather than having the world’s most random celebrities bloviate about what they thought after each one, the performances are left to speak for themselves. Sure, most of the material sounds like the music-adjacent songs that soundtrack an episode of Selling Sunset, but the sentiment is to be admired.

The show also takes care to paint a picture of America as a cultural melting pot, not just in the parts of the country where you’d expect. UG skywalkin is Ugandan and a former missionary kid who grew up in Indiana. His equal appreciation for his background and his home state inspired his entry song, “Love in My City.”

And then there’s Alexa, one of the night’s breakout contestants. She’s South Korean, raised in Oklahoma, lionized singers like Carrie Underwood as a kid, but is currently an award-winning K-Pop phenom in Asia. Her K-Pop performance of “Wonderland” is probably not what anyone anticipated from the contestant from Oklahoma, but it was a bop and one of the most fun moments from the premiere.

My future husband, Christian Pagán of Puerto Rico, was another highlight, and the performer with the most on-stage confidence and comfort. He’s clearly a star, and I can’t wait for the wedding.

The premiere belonged to Rhode Island’s Hueston, however, whose stirring ballad, performed on a stool center stage, was chosen by the show’s 56-person jury as an automatic semifinalist. Audience votes determine the rest.

Look, it’s not that American Song Contest was bad. It’s that it seemed so uninspired. The clip packages and trivia games centered around the states followed by what was some overwhelmingly generic staging gave off vibes of a season-long version of the Miss America contest than it did some grand experiment translated from the notorious Eurovision circus of fun.

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Hueston’s song was solid, but when a performance that could appear on any episode of American Idol/The Voice/The X Factor or what have you is considered the night’s strongest contender, I feel like it misses not just the spirit of Eurovision, but the potential the show has to be doing something new.

So thank the stars for Wyoming. The state’s contestant, Ryan Charles, performed what he called a “cowboy western rap” titled “New Boot Goofin.’” It played like a satire of “Old Town Road” or that “Fancy Like” Applebee’s song. Or more than a satire, maybe something nefariously engineered to dominate TikTok. It was heinous. It was irresistible. It was undeniably the worst song of the night, and I have no doubt that it will be this entire competition’s greatest success story.

That my fellow reality-TV patriots, is the spirit of Eurovision. And that is what I hope for this show to be.

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