Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [154]
The judges were actually quite kind and didn’t tear me apart, but instead gave me comments like, “Good for you. It’s nice to see you trying new things and having fun up there” (Marie); “You had great energy even if the vocals weren’t perfect” (Foster); and “Ohhh, honey, I just felt my big toe rise up inside my shoe!” (Little Richard).
Good golly!
But at the end of the show I was the first one voted off by the producers and the judges. The fact that the fan voting didn’t start until the second week of the show was another shady deal that made no sense to me.
Either way, I took the elimination like a man, vowing to return to TV on the next season of Celebrity Bad White-Boy Dancing, and shuffled off the stage doing a horrible robot.
Despite my blasé demeanor on the outside, I was humiliated on the inside. I mean, here I was the singer in a very good rock and roll band and I’d been the first one eliminated on a nationally televised singing show. I was going to have to eat some serious crow with a dish of humble pie on the side.
But after hiding in my dressing room for a few minutes, I came to terms with the fact that at least I’d tried. I’ve always said there’s nothing wrong with trying something and failing.
As a matter of fact, I’d based my whole career on that statement.
After licking my wounds I poked my head out of the dressing room and saw a pissed-off Peter Frampton. “There’s no way you should’ve been the first one eliminated. You did a great job. You can come sing with me at one of my shows anytime!”
I gave him a genuine hug in appreciation for his words. If my performance was good enough for Peter Frampton, then it was good enough for me!
Then I saw one of the judges in the hall, who told me, “You weren’t the one we chose to be eliminated. We wanted to get rid of one of the ladies, but the producers didn’t want five guys and two girls so you were the next in line.”
Even if it was just lip service, it was still good for my bruised ego to hear that I wasn’t the worst.
Although I was the first one booted off the show, the Duets experience wasn’t a total bomb. Because when I returned for the finale, I got a chance to rub vocals with some of the best singers of all time.
I sang the blues with Little Richard as he warmed up for his performance. Just the two of us. He sang a verse, then I took one, and he nodded approvingly at my vibe. It was a remarkable experience to sing with the man who invented rock and roll vocals and had influenced everyone from Elvis to the Beatles. Now if I ever meet Paul McCartney I have something else to tell him besides Johnny Hutch’s message that he’s a fooking wanker.
After jamming with Little Richard, I spent an hour talking with Gladys Knight, who was flirting with me and calling me her Big Teddy Bear. If I was twenty years older I would’ve pipped her right there.
Then I went to craft services to get a drink and saw Smokey Robinson leaning against the wall sucking on lemons.
Lemons?
Could that be the secret to his legendary vocal talent? Did the citrus sooth his voice? Did the lemony nectar coat his throat and give him more power?
This was my chance to unlock the clandestine reasons for Smokey’s success.
“Excuse me, Mr. Robinson,” I inquired. “I see you’re sucking on lemons. Do they help your voice?”
Smokey looked at me with his ice chip blue eyes.
“No man, I just like lemons.”
After getting Smokey’s advice that nothing helps your voice more than drinking water and getting a good night’s sleep, I was called to rehearsal for the finale’s showstopping number. The eight of us were going to sing a medley of ’50s songs, beginning with “Rock Around the Clock” and ending with Little Richard joining us for “Tutti Frutti.” It was really frooti to get the chance to sing with Richard again, but other than that I was ready to wash my hands of this huge chunk of television fromage.