Hi. I'm Pamie. Some of you may know me from such intense recaps as Gilmore Girls or Young Americans. I've never watched this Making the Band show before. But I'm in love with Djb. And he needed me to help him out this week. Does that qualify me to recap this show? I think it does. And don't act all offended like you don't know who I am. I recognize your face from my Popstars recaps. That's right. I know you sneak them. Your O-Town loyalty only runs so deep.
Okay, I'm learning here, so bear with me. I just entered this world of pseudo-testosterone. Marky Mark is singing in a studio while some guy is jamming out in the background, tossing fingers in the air with the reckless abandon that only supreme music can create. By the way, I can't tell what song is playing because Marky Mark just keeps wailing away, but the corner of the screen says "Girl." Either they're playing a cruel trick on poor Marky Mark, or that's the creative name of this caterwauling. Oh, wait. They got closer on Marky Mark. That can't be him. Marky Mark's much older than that. And not quite this...ugly. This guy's got hair everywhere. The guy in the back is joined by "Warryn Campbell," according to my know-it-all television screen, and these two guys are about to jump out the window with giddiness, as if Marky Mark just finally learned how to drop the cockney accent to inform them that the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain. Oh, this is the "previously" section of the show. Some kid is saying that Jacob's voice is too rough for the track. Oh, this Marky Mark's kid's name is Jacob. They still name kids Jacob? Whoa. Wow. That's an ugly kid, right there. He's got some scary hair, pouting something about his singing. I can't listen though, because the hair is crying out for help much louder.
And my television either just flipped to an infomercial for fake hair, a scene at Babylon on Queer as Folk, or these are the opening credits. But I recognize Tiny Squares of Boys and Fun anywhere. It's the Tiny Squares of Reality-Based Popstar Life. We all speak the same language. Eden's Crush or O-Town -- it's just five kids who think they have a say in things all being led by the same puppetmaster. Ashley. Does he sing for Radiohead? Erik. Hee. What's with that kid's tiny lip patch of hair? Dan. Man, why do they have one Monkey Boy per boy band? Why? Trevor. Is it possible to have a condition where all of your facial features have been enlarged to the point of impossiblity? Because this boy's got it. Jacob. I think this kid's gonna cause some problems. And I don't just know this because I've already watched the episode once.
We cut to a studio, where the boys are sort of yelling at each other about things; they edit it quickly so we don't know that it was just Ashley asking Erik to bring over a packet of sugar for his coffee, and it looks like actual tension.
The boys do sit-ups. Their faces are completely void of any emotion or intellectual stimulation. Push-ups and other physical fitness attempts follow in the same manner, but the only reason they're doing them is so that we can watch their naked torsos flex, so I'm not complaining. Flex, naked young torsos, flex. Show Mama where it hurts. Sorry.
Someone brings the boys copies of their single. They all open their disks and coo over which O-Town trading card is in their CD. Andrew, the rep from J Records, smiles and sasses that he got a "Trevor." He keeps waving the card in the air, smiling like he gets to do nasty things to the Trevor card as soon as he gets home. He offers to give it to the muscular naked back that's near him, but the muscular naked back walks away. If that's Trevor, then I'd like to have that card when Andrew's done, if that's okay with everyone. I hate this love-hate relationship I've already established with these boys. I just want to spank them. And bite them. And tease them. And hurt them. And make them love me. Jacob is not pleased with the single. He's staring at it thinking, "It's music, but is it music? Is it really my art?" While on pause, the VCR kicks over to the Fox Family channel, and I accidentally get distracted and watch a show on cable theft for five minutes. That's how engaging this show is.
Cut to Jacob holding the single, still trying to figure out how to read the word that comes after the letter "O." He's all, "Tooooweeen? I thought we were called Ohtahn. There's no 'W' in Ohtahn! Idiots!" He tells us in a voice-over that when they first "laid down vocals" on "Liquid Dreams," he was proud of them. He says that they were "a little rougher than they were used to." By "they," he means "people with ears." He says that there was more "edginess." By "edginess," he means "painful screeches." Jacob is now trying to read the back of the CD, but there are so many words on it that he just ends up staring at his own picture. That's the only comforting image he can find. J Records has asked Jacob to "tone it down a little bit." That means, "Can you find a way to have Jacob not sing on the record anymore?" Someone walks by and asks the still-squinting Jacob whether the CD meets the "Jacob Underwood standards." Jacob, still mouthing out the word "liquid," barely mutters a "shut up." Maturity, thy name is Jacob. Jacob continues his voice-over and tells us that even when he only sings a small part, they ask him to change it. ["Dude, it's called a hint. Take it." -- Wing Chun] Every song on which he sings is getting changed. They're pulling him out of the songs. We see a montage of pouty Jacob as he tells us that he has been taken off almost every song. If he sings with his lips pursed like that, it's not hard to see why.
Shots of the busy New York City subway. Shots of a wall. Shots of a bridge. All more entertaining than anything Jacob's complaining about. That's not stopping him, though. Now Jacob's cornered some poor schmo in a room and he actually says, "Everything I did on 'Girl,' was like...it was amazing." Schmo says that "they" told him that as well. "They" are somewhere to the left of Schmo, since that's where he points. Jacob wears his Pouty Hoodie and says that he doesn't mind giving up a part if someone sings better than he does, but that's just not going to happen, he believes. I'm sorry, Jacob is "amped" to give up the part if that situation arises. The Schmo is now Mike Cronin, the O-Town manager. Mike is twelve. Jacob says that this time "They" are taking him off the songs because he sounds "different." Mike rubs his chin and tries to figure out a way to make the word "suck" sound like "more suited for Korn." Mike starts reverse reverse psychology immediately and spits out this gem: "They didn't take your vocals off because you didn't sing good. It was his vocals that draw him away from the rest of the song." Who in the what now? Jacob brats, "So, what are you gonna do with me?" "Kick your ass!" I shout. Why am I so riled up about this asshole I only met five minutes ago? Why do I care? Why does MBTV make me this way? I used to have friends. Jacob's hair continues to morph into a Counting Crows video as he boasts that when he sings in a group of five, his voice "stands out." Jacob still sees this as a good thing. Jacob smiles and says, "So you hide it?" Mike asserts that Jacob's voice doesn't stand out. Once they turn off his microphone. Mike says that when the band harmonizes, it's perfect. Jacob's got that grin like the kid in your school who's been on way too many mood drugs since he was nine. He's three seconds away from being Morgan on American High. And I think this kid's on some crazy drugs. Check out the dilation on these pupils. He looks like he's about to sing "L.A. Woman." Jacob complains the same complaint again. Mike tries another approach, commonly used on people who consider themselves "artists." He says that when "they" first heard Jacob's vocals, the vocals "scared them." Now, this is completely true, probably. They were terrified that they had made a horrible, horrible mistake. Mike spins it to sound like they're just too cautious to try anything new. Jacob says that he wants something else to do. He refuses to be just a backup dancer. Mike says, "We just need to open their eyes to...that that is your sound. Your style of voice is your sound." I love that Mike's not exactly lying about any of this, but that what he's saying isn't exactly nice things about poor Jacob and his crap singing. Jacob says that they all need to talk and "open their eyes" before the album comes out. Jacob then begins stabbing his thigh. He wants a half-hour meeting. Mike counters that they will "start a conversation with Keith." Mike says that if Jacob's not an asshole, then Keith might listen to him, but since he's powerful, perhaps Jacob won't just want to be a bitch baby and whine. Jacob is distracted by the melting walls that tell him he can fly, and doesn't hear a word of Mike's warning.
London. Ashley puts on a British accent and waggles his head as he says, "Aw I know is that I quite fancy Bri-ish gurls." Trevor's giant head tries to figure out what Ashley just said, since he don't know no French talk. "Goh a waigh bout them," Ashley continues, smirking at himself. He thinks he's the cutest. And he is, but that's beside the point. "And I tell you the truth. They make for quite smashing conversation." We are trapped in this van with Ashley's Boston Powers accent. "Smahhshing," someone else attempts. Thankfully, we get to leave the van now.
"All or Nothing," the screen says. Why don't they capitalize "or"? Anyway, Trevor's singing himself into convulsions. They ask him to put some vibrato in his vocals. Jacob watches in his pouty red coat and pouts. He tells us that he knows he could sing these songs as well, but they're not letting him, so he has to sit on a couch and listen to the other boys record music while he doesn't get to do anything. Here he offers that he'd rather be writing songs. Me too. I'd love to hear the songs he's written. "My hair is just the way I like it. My music is just the way I like it. You may all think that I suck! But I don't care because I'm the only one that matters. I love me! Oh, yeah, you know, I love me! Look at me pout and wheeze! I'm the cutest of the three! There's no 'we' in 'Jacob!'" He keeps on using the euphemism "stands out" for "sucks ass." Jacob smacks a drumstick against his knee as we see the clock ticking. He tells us in a voice-over that he has to sit there and read magazines while everyone else works. Why did they fly him to London, then? Jacob "breaks it down" and tells us that he's bored. The rest of the boys sing and sing and sing.
Jacob curls into a pity ball on the couch as someone voice-overs that he feels bad that Jacob just has to sit there. Oh, it's Dan. He says that he understands, because when you think you have a part, you're proud of it, but it's upsetting when you're taken off that part. I guess the only people singing this song are Trevor and Dan; they're the two in the studio while their bad singer gently sleeps.
Mike sits with Ashley and Dan on some puffy couches to discuss the Jacob situation. Mike points at Dan and says that Dan feels that Jacob might be mad at him, because they gave him all of Jacob's vocals. Dan just sits there, unable to think or speak for himself. Ashley rolls his head over to the other side to comfort Dan: "He's not mad at you, dude." Dan fingers his sideburns as Mike says that there's "still a feeling of uncomfortableness [sic]." Ashley says that this is all very unfair: the producers were saying how great Jacob's vocals were, and then they changed their minds. Dan jumps in to say that they said the same thing about his vocals -- that he's hot, and that they were excited about him, too. He's hinting that the producers say that to everyone. He then says that if the producer thinks that someone else is better for the part (says the person who got the part from Jacob), then the producer is probably right. Mike says that he never heard Jacob's singing, so he can't judge. Ashley says that he heard it, and that it sounds "good." Mike asks for elaboration. Ashley squints and goes, "His voice sounds different, to the point where it's like, 'Ooh, that's cool.' Like, it makes you want to listen. 'Cause his voice does sound different." Mike interrupts with his wicked Boston accent to say that Clive "gets scared" at that stuff. Because he's making a boy band. He doesn't want individuality. He wants five interchangeable fashion plates that could be replaced in a heartbeat by any other boy.
The boys listen to the final playback of "All or Nothing" at the studio. Everyone's happy except pissyface Jacob. He's just pouting in the back with his arms crossed as everyone else claps. Dan is lost inside his own vocals as he tells us that he's excited because it's a great song. From between his dangly earrings, Trevor says that the song is "awesome." Could it be because it's just the two of them singing? Could be. Who knows. Now Jacob says that he likes the way the song came out, but there's a new problem: "I'm singing music that I don't care about." What music did he think he was going to get to sing? ["Selections from Woody Guthrie, I believe." -- Wing Chun]
Cut to Jacob pouting in another Pouty Hoodie, confessing to us that he'd really just like to go home. "I'd probably still be in the garage trying to make it, but at least I was happy there." Oh, wah, Suckface. What an asswipe.
Horrible music swells as the song comes to its emotional crescendo. Dan can hardly keep his head inside his ski cap, he's so excited about hearing his own voice. Trevor mouths the words along with his singing. Jacob's lower lip finally succumbs to gravity and falls off his face. "I don't like letting people down?" Jacob asks us, without actually asking a question in a voice-over. He yawns to show the others in the room just how much he doesn't care: "Even at the expense of my happiness." He says that if he can find a way around it, he's going to. I think that Jacob's talking about finding a loophole in his contract, but I can't tell because he's not so good with the talkin'.
The VCR was on pause for too long again, and the television cut to the captivating FOX Family channel. Promos for the Olsen twins. Pink. If there's one place Pink certainly doesn't belong, it's on the promos for the FOX Family channel.
Jacob is so upset that he has to stand in a dank alley in order for us to see just how broody this one boy can be. In the studio, Ashley, Trevor and Erik give each other dap "for Jacob and Dan," since they apparently aren't on this song. They half-heartedly punch fists. Outside in Broodyland, Jacob tells us in a voice-over that he doesn't feel "connected." The boys inside punch fists "for New Kids On the Block in general." At least they know where to give props. Trevor asks for two fists for Rod Stewart. Ruining a potentially fun moment, Jacob voice-overs that he hates being the odd man out. No, he doesn't. Brats love to be the only one bratting. He's all saying that that's his thing. Man, that Ashley's a cutie. Ashley puts up two fists and asks Erik to give it up for Joey Lawrence. Impressive deadpan, Ashley. The filmmakers obviously got involved at this point and asked them to re-shoot this moment, because now there's a strange pause when the camera pans up from Ashley's fists to Ashley's face, and Erik leaves Ashley hanging, and Ashley overacts his disappointment. They both take off in opposite directions.
Jacob hangs in an alley, dangerously close to a car that's not his, as the editors play the background noise labeled "London City Sounds Complete With Funny Alarm Their Cops Use." Fade to commercial.
Back in New York, Jacob's pouting on the phone to his friend Janie. He sits on his broody black leather couch wearing his broody black t-shirt and his best broody black dreads to complain about his never-having-to- work-and-get- paid-for-it lifestyle. He says something about having problems in his personal life, but that he's going to deal with them. In a separate interview, Jacob wears his best lip gloss and tells us that music makes him really, really happy. Then he says the word "taint," and I giggle. Jacob's socks are dirty. He wears all black except for his socks. Class. Jacob hangs up his expensive cell phone with his painted fingernail and pouts some more. Jacob, maybe you should go outside or something. Do some charity work. Put your fucking life into perspective.
In a scary, almost dream-like sequence, the camera pans over to find Trevor sitting on the couch in a yellow jacket all smiley and leering at Jacob. It's like he's the opposite of Jacob, and he's been sent there to show us what a "contrast" is. He beams that "Liquid Dreams" was number two on Z100 the night before. He cheers that they beat *NSYNC. Trevor stumbles in a separate interview to tell us how cool that is, but I can't listen to him at the same time as I wonder why he chose to do the diagonal part in his hair.
Trevor and Dan meet in a hallway and begin thrusting their crotches at each other while completing a messy repetitive high-five. They then begin this strange chant: "It's number two! Number two! Number two! It's time to eat! Britney Spears! Britney Zinc! P Jakey!" It's sort of falling apart at the end, there, and as Dan walks off, Trevor almost slaps him on the back of the head to keep the rhythm going. By the way, there's a new rule in my house. Nobody is ever allowed to shout the words "number two!" and then shout, "It's time to eat!"
Shot of a taxi cab, tennis shoes walking, and a fire engine racing to a fire. Three things more interesting, entertaining, and important than these five boys.
We now begin the most painful portion of the show. We meet Mark Hudson. He's going to be the producer for the ear-massacre "Love Should Be A Crime." He sits with his hand on his chin, wearing a purple beret and dark sunglasses as he brags, "I've produced Ringo Starr's last album." And I'd like to see all the hands of anyone who bought that album. I'll give six thousand dollars to anyone who can name that album. Or any Ringo Starr album, for that matter. Mark continues by saying that this was important to him because he loves the Beatles, and he knows that these kids love the Beatles, so he's going to keep on name-dropping. He says that he worked with the Beatles. Then he follows with "McCartney," when he realizes these kids are younger than Ringo Starr's last album. He says that he went to Paul's house and watched him play bass and then "sang background" while he played. This means that Mark broke into Paul's house while he was working and hung out in the garden humming "Yesterday" while Paul called for security. Mark does a horrible John Lennon impersonation at this point as he says that he always imagined he was John. Kill me. He keeps on saying that when he was a kid, he used to pretend one of his brothers was Paul and that when he was at Paul's house, he "internally hemorrhaged." That's because the security guard kneed him in the spleen. And by the way, since I'm new to this show, I'd just like to point out that it's a total gyp that Erik-Michael Estrada isn't related to Erik Estrada. Why do you think I offered to cover this show this week? I wanted to get at least seven CHiPs jokes in there, and now it's pointless. Mark then butchers the English language with this pearl of wisdom: "You have to think of any band that you know. No matter how much you love anybody. From, from Soundgarden to -- pick your -- to Korn." He says it's pretty amazing that the Beatles can release an album thirty years after they form and have that album go straight to number one. Yes, it's pretty amazing, but it was also a greatest-hits album of number-one songs. And I love that Mark's scope of "music" that "the kids" like these days ranges from Soundgarden to Korn.
Jacob is just eating all of this stuff up, and fawns all over Mark's scuzzy ponytail to tell us that he just loves the words that fall out of Mark's braggity mouth. Jacob says that Mark was "comforting." He says he felt like he was with somebody who appreciates music "for the emotion." Jacob is still moony-eyed as I vomit all over my keyboard.
Mark says that he's been doing this since he was eleven. At this point, only Ashley, Jacob, and Erik are still listening. People are milling around them, totally ignoring this vinyl-clad wannabe. He continues, "By now, I should be unhappy and disgruntled and a Republican." The joke kills because Ashley thinks that the word "Republican" has something to do with a penis, and because Erik wants to sing lead on this song. They go fucking nuts with laughter all, "No, he di-int!" like Mark actually told a joke. Mark continues namedropping to add "Aerosmith and you guys." Another range as impressive: Aerosmith to O-Town. That's volume one of the classic series NOW That's What I Call Sucking! Erik offers, "Experience meets innocence." Coincidentally, that's the description of the first porn Erik's going to do in six years. Coincidentally again, the porno is still called Liquid Dreams. And Erik totally just lost the lead singing gig with the age joke, there.
Mark tells the boys that he wants to hear their voices so that he can assign parts. He lies that they don't really have to try to sing because it doesn't really matter right now. Ashley loosens up his neck, just in case Mark needs an emergency blowjob.
Ashley sings first. Or he's hyperventilating. It's really hard to tell the difference. So much breath and head movements, it's a wonder he can read the words on the page. Ah, hell. Who cares. What a hottie! WOOOOOOOO!
Does Erik know that singing involves making noises with his voice that are called "tunes"? It's not the same as "whining" or "moaning." Ow.
OW. OW. OW. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT NOISE? Oh, God. It's Jacob! Look, I've never heard the boy sing before, but...WOW. No wonder the producers are trying to eliminate him from the group. What a crap-ass voice that kid's got. Tom Waits is all, "Kid, stop. You're gonna hurt something." It's like this wailing noise that won't stop. By the way, the words of the chorus? "And baby, baby, baby, baby! It's making me go crazy! Well, if you call that love, then love should be a crime!" Jacob hits a note so bad on "crazy" that he sneaks a glance at Mark to make sure he noted that Jacob shouldn't sing here either. Jacob doesn't notice, and blisses out to the music as the howling summons all the dogs in my neighborhood.
The wailing continues into the studio, and against anything resembling "better judgment," the boys are now recording. Ashley's first. I don't know whether his voice is any good because his face is squinting like we're about to have a simultaneous orgasm, and that's all I'm allowing myself to think about. I'm so going to Hell, people. Don't judge me.
Mark is wearing a purple blazer and a purple beret. His ponytail has some sort of jewel around it. Dangly earrings. This man is dressed like my Aunt Lori. They keep having the giant spit catcher block Ashley's face, so I have no choice but to hear his scary voice. I want to stop watching this show now. Can I go home? Is the ride over yet? I'm scared. This is the last time I recap Fear.
Mark tells Ashley that his voice was "pretty good," so he doesn't have to hurt us again. Ashley hears the playback and says he can do better. "Easy, Streisand," Mark says. Whoa. That's a dis on about sixteen levels. Dude. I totally didn't see his purple Lennon shades before. When did he become the giant Prince monster? Ashley sings again. Sadly, the clothes are still on. I think there's something in his eye. Or he's half pirate.
Mark puffs on a cigar and tells Jacob it's time for him to sing. He makes a lame joke about Jacob's hair straightening, but I'll spare you.
I will not spare you from the hellish notes that are Jacob's "sound." They don't even soothe us with the buffer of background music. It's just Jacob wailing around screaming, "How you play me, play me, play me!" It's so bad, y'all. So horribly bad. This is also the part where Djb sees what I'm recapping, covers his mouth with both hands, and stares. "I can still see you smiling," I hiss at him. "Wow. It's really...I don't...this is bad." "Are you happy?" I ask him. "Yes, ma'am, I am." He then goes back outside to work on his tan. Jacob finally stops beating me with his larynx. Mark tells him that it sounds "pretty groovy." I don't even have to make a single joke on the exchange. Mark: "I'm sorta liking the plugged-up-ness." Jacob: "It's not plugged up, it's just more scratchy. I gotta push a lot more air through." Look at all the different ways you can say, "Your voice sucks ass." He sounds like Cartman.
Jacob tells us in an interview that he connected with Mark, and that they could communicate just by looking at each other. Mark tells Jacob that he should go into vibrato every once in a while. No, he really shouldn't. Jacob: "I felt like I was sitting with a Beatle." Lightning then crashes down and smites Jacob. The ground rips open and he fall into the depths of Hell, where I'll have to spend eternity with him someday. Jacob continues drooling and says that it makes you "a better thinker" to work with someone like Mark. Too bad it doesn't make you a better singer. The camera turns to Mark, and the other two people in the studio are blurred out. They're all, "I work with fucking Radiohead, you shits. I'm not signing any release form. This is all a part of Mark's rehab conditions, anyway. This is just punishment for the hooker we bought Sam for his bachelor party. Who knew that blow was gonna kill her?"
The lyrics. Shudder, shudder, children. The lyrics: "And if you call that love and all it was was a pocket full of nothing but a suicidal gun. If you call that love then love should be a crime." Wuh? Mark holds back the other two people in the studio who are holding their own suicidal guns, and says, "Okay. We're getting close. I'm gonna start guiding him in here." Jacob is lost in his own world of self-love. Mark yells, "Don't be so Caucasian!" And with those skank dreads and pre-pub goatee, I think perhaps Mark should have shouted that to Jacob years ago. I'm afraid the man's just a tad too late. Mark has turned into Ringo Starr at this point, and is just completely high, floating back and forth to Jacob's singing. The other studio workers have started shooting heroin to ease the pain. Jacob's pupils are so incredibly dilated that it's pretty clear these guys followed every step of the Beatles' method of recording an album. Someone stop this boy from singing before he encourages more bad music to be created in this world. Jacob's fully delusional now: "It was like...real raw music."
Mark has been asked to talk Jacob down from his imaginary ledge. They "rap" around a meeting table like "cool cats" with "issues." Mark gave Jacob his stupid-ass Lennon glasses. Mark asks whether Jacob thinks he's the troubled soul in the group. Jacob lies and says he doesn't: "When I'm happy with something, it's because of the emotion. What I did in the song. But what makes me happy, what makes me proud of what I did? Isn't...might not... might not be what they think is gonna sell. So I've been the victim of 'Let's make this record sell.'" What heartless bastards, playing the game of "Sell the Album" instead of "Pamper the Shithead." Mark says that Jacob either has to stand up or roll over. Jacob says that he's standing up, and that he doesn't roll over. Except for the fact that he's just been rolling over. Jacob smiles and explains to us that Mark explained to him "how things work," and that in "this business," the label is always going to argue with "the artist." ["What?! That's not really true, is it?" -- Wing Chun] Mark is so wise! He tells Jacob to keep doing what he's doing now. Which, I guess is nothing except making horrible, horrible music.
Incredibly intense shots of New York buildings make my heart race. The tension! What will happen? Which building will be the important one? Will a window open? Will a cab be hailed? God, this show is so good! Oh. I had it on pause.
Mealy-mouthed Boston Mike has brought Jacob into some semi-office with a bed, from which they plan to call Keith Naftaly, from J Records. Jacob is wearing a black shirt with the naked mud-flap girl stamped down the sleeves. Fire that boy. Keith seems shocked to hear that Jacob is in the room on speakerphone, since he was going to tell Mike just to beat the shit out of Jacob and then send him home, and now he'll have to figure out some other tactic to get Jacob to shut the fuck up. He asks Jacob to pick up the phone to talk to him. Mike looks terrified and tells Jacob to pick up the phone. Jacob does. Then there's, like, this montage of Jacob breaking down and bratting out. He's just going on and on about his problems, about getting taken off all of the tracks. At one point, he calls Ashley the "whitest guy" he knows. He sits there with his painted fingernails, saying that he's not fulfilling his dreams anymore, and probably shouldn't be in this band. Jacob tells us that he's not here to be a background dancer. He doesn't want to be pulled off songs anymore. Strange Fatboy Slim music plays in the background as Jacob tells us that Keith's going to have to talk to Clive about it, so Jacob's going to talk to Mike about it. Yes, it's all just as dumb as it sounds. Jacob says he's "iffy" about being in the band. Mike says that Jacob can't threaten the label like this. He uses the word "scare" again. Mike, shut up. He says that if Jacob's going to be a whiny bitch-baby, then the producers are going to think that O-Town is a group of whiny bitch-babies, and they're going to drop them, and the other four guys will then beat the shit out of Jacob. Jacob has to think about this for a few seconds, and then wanders off to smoke another bowl. Sweet commercial bliss for me.
Scary, scary Clive body is resurrected long enough to give some mouth-breathing words to the boys of O-Town. I don't know who this guy is, but Jacob tells me that he's very important. Mike still looks terrified. Jacob says he's going to listen to Clive before he starts bitching. Clive says that these kids got better music than most new artists get in such a short period of time. Translation: "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you write any of these songs? No? Then shut up. You have no reason to expect to sing on any of them. Dance, monkey boy, dance!" Clive says this is a business, and that it's not personal, and that a song isn't about showcasing all of their individual talents. Translation: they are a boy band. And it doesn't matter who sings on what part because we don't know and can't tell who is singing what part. They're all supposed to sound the same. Jacob scratches a flea from his dread. Clive admits that nobody knows who is singing what part anyway. It also becomes clear that he doesn't know which one is Dan and which one is Jacob because as Jacob complains that Dan got to fly out and re-sing the stuff, Clive says that they now have enough good material to piece together bits of Jacob singing on "Girl" so that he's not taken off. But he never mentioned that they had Dan fly out to sing it. There are things on Clive's face that are about to explode. This scene is edited poorly. Clive's saying one thing and then saying the opposite in the sentence. Once Clive says that Jacob's vocals will stay on the track, Jacob tells us that Clive is one of the best in the music business. He then tells us all the stuff we didn't see, like Clive apologizing to Jacob, and telling him that the label was wrong and that Jacob was right. I want all the drugs they're giving Jacob to make him that delusional. I'd like to ask Johnny Depp out for hot sex, and I'm going to need that kind of confidence and the ability to create conversations that never happened. Jacob concludes, "It was a frustrating thing for me, but in the end it was just what I needed to hear." What?
New York skyline, showing us that O-Town hasn't demolished it with their vocals yet. In due time, I'm sure. Everyone needs to move out of there soon.
Oh, God. All of the boys are around a mic in the studio. They're singing the background vocals. Erik has lockjaw, I believe; he has his mouth open as wide as it'll go and he's just still. It's scary. He might be suffering from a scorpion bite or something. Oh, this singing. It's so bad! So bad, people. Like cats attempting to speak English. The worst sounds in the world end, and you hear Mark off-camera say, "Greatness. one." "Yeah!" the boys all sing in unison with some stupid editing joke.
As the boys try to harmonize with Mark pointing at random places in the air, Jacob explains in a voice-over that it was his idea to have everyone sing the background vocals around an old microphone just like the Beatles used to do. Lord. You can't say the word "Beatles" that many times in a row without permanent reputation damage. The boys all make their "ooh" faces, which are absolutely hysterical. Erik has eaten something terrible, and his lips attach to the bottom of his nose. Mark loves Jacob's "idea."
The "ooh"s continue as Trevor scares me with his face and Ashley's voice pains us all. Trevor's eyes widen more and more as Erik morphs into a Monchichi. He blisses out and morphs again, this time into Emmanuel Lewis. Mark: "You've gone from genius to suck." Mark keeps stopping them, trying to teach them how to sing, harmonize, hold notes, or carry tunes. It's not working and goes on forever. They sing badly. Erik makes hand motions like he's cutting and scratching. It causes Jacob to act out in his singing and start doing some scales instead of just holding the note. Mark stops them. He cracks that they're killing him. They sing badly. He stops them. They sing badly. Mark pokes Erik in the eye. They bliss out. He stops them. He performs "comedy." They sing badly. Eventually Mark lies and says that it's good enough. They applaud themselves and run out of the booth to listen to the final playback. They are all very pleased with themselves. Jacob tells us that it's his favorite song on the album, not because he pissed and moaned about everything until he got to sing, but because they got to sing "like the Beatles." He says, "It was like a history lesson from somebody back in time that was brought back to teach us where music originated." Look at that sentence. Look at it! Read it out loud. Do it. God. So stupid! There's nothing stupider ever. Ever. Mark's only in his forties, for fuck's sake. It's not like Mozart just strolled in. Jacob's so pleased with himself. I want to end this recap, but Jacob keeps on stupidinizing all over himself: "I learned more in that studio and will remember more in that session than ever, I think."
The boys all air-drum and move like they actually played an instrument in the song. They stare at each other as Jacob beams. We reach the end of the song, where the screen changes to a black-and-white still shot of the recording booth. It's supposed to remind us of the Beatles, but comes off like the opening of Family Ties. Sha, la, la, la, indeed.