Surprise—my first album would come about under entirely different circumstances. They wanted it out by November, so production needed to start right away. This meant writing, rehearsing and recording a good part of the album while I was on the American Idol tour. Deliberation was out and fast decisions were in. I didn’t know the first thing about making a record, so the notion of making it happen while performing on tour seemed completely crazy (and borderline impossible) to me. Where would the inspiration come from? How would I know what kinds of songs to write? How could I know that those songs would be right for me? When would the rehearsing happen? Would I not be totally beat from the tour? How could I produce quality music in such a state of exhaustion? Every morning on the tour would bring on a bunch of new questions that would simmer in the back of my mind while I sat on the tour bus heading to our next gig. How would I know if I was doing everything right? How was I supposed to find and hire a team of professional music people? We didn’t really have one yet. That’s where my dad proved to be a big help while we were on tour. He was able to help with the recording process, kicking ideas around for songs and also helped with the difficult task of putting together our professional support team. We also had to schedule in meetings—while we were on tour—with potential attorneys, publishers, management companies, business managers, and all the other components that an artist needs in order to roll out a successful career.
To meet the deadlines for the album, I recorded wherever we happened to be—in Tulsa, Oklahoma City, Minnesota, and New York. I would record during the day and perform with the rest of the Idol gang at night. I remember thinking, Be careful what you wish you for, because here I was living the life of a professional musician, including the sleepless nights, early mornings, press appearances and a constant pursuit of inspiration and endurance that I could only hope and pray would continue to come. It’s funny how when you stop to look back, you tend to remember the moments of struggle. As I worked on both the tour and the album, I was forced to confront the nature of sacrifice, and face the fact that in choosing the path before me, my life, as I knew it, would no longer exist. I would have to give up being a regular eighteen-year-old and throw myself into adulthood, into the worlds of contracts, conference rooms, lawyers and so many other things that I don’t really understand. I would have to get used to losing my privacy and feeling observed even when I didn’t want to be observed. I would have to learn how to smile even when I was sad. I would have to put the brakes on any plans for college; and I would have to commit to staying focused and serious about my new career as a singer/songwriter with little distraction. I would have to be away from my friends and family a lot of the time, and I would have to find a way to keep those important relationships alive. I would basically have to put my normal life on the back burner, which felt (and sometimes still does) like a pretty big deal to me.
There was just no time to sit back and think. It was a challenge, but I was so grateful for the fact that from the moment I woke up to the instant I went to sleep my day revolved around music. All the questions that I had about my future were now less scary to look at, because somehow or another I started to feel that no matter what, music would always be a part of my life. I told myself that the pressure to deliver on the album while on tour was maybe the kind of heat that I needed to make it all happen. I chose to see the challenge as motivation, which would come in handy because, as I already mentioned, the next rung on the ladder of progress for me would come in the form of . . . gulp . . . songwriting.
Since I was ten years old, people had been advising me to write songs and it was one of those things I knew I should take seriously. But it always scared the life out of me. It was hard for me at age thirteen or fourteen, and it’s still hard for me now (but getting easier). As connected as I am to music, for some reason I find it grueling to sit down and write melodies and lyrics. Melodies are a bit easier, but lyrics have always been an obstacle for me. Maybe it’s because I am still young and have a lot to learn about music and life, but I have always found it easier to slip into the sentiment of a song as opposed to trying to come up with it myself. I feel comfortable putting myself in other people’s shoes, and uncomfortable when I have to express myself in my own words.
I told myself that since feeling itself has always been my guiding force, I could start with that as a basis for writing, too. Instead of trying to come up with clever words to tell a story, maybe I could focus more on an emotion, and somehow find the words that match the feeling. Maybe I could even use my own frustration as a songwriter and put that feeling into the song. Who knew? Maybe I could use my excitement to fuel the creative flow. There are so many ways to go about it and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there isn’t just one right way to do it.
Besides, the record company had its own ideas about what my first solo album should be, so whether I liked it or not I had a set of guidelines to work with. I didn’t care so much about what labels I would be filed under; I just wanted to keep on singing. Ultimately, the album became a nice compromise between Jive’s ideas and mine; while they were more inclined to a smooth pop sound, I leaned toward something a little bit deeper. But I was there to learn as much as possible, and back then I wasn’t about to argue about any of it. I mostly saw the album as a chance to prove to myself that I was someone who could sing way beyond standards and covers. And I wanted to show the world that I was still a teenager and that I had no interest in growing up too fast. The songs on the first album would end up being about simple, universal things like first loves and crushes, themes that everyone can relate to.
The energy of the tour and all the amazing people around me also fed into the writing and recording that I was doing. Because there was so much musical energy around me, I felt connected to music in a very immediate way. I was living and breathing it, and the company of such talented singers inspired me every day as I continued to work through the album. My first single, “Crush,” came out in August on Z100, New York City’s famous radio station, while I was still on tour with American Idol. It was crazy to think that I had a song, my own song, on the airwaves. Would people even recognize that it was me? How would they react? How could they possibly like a song that was recorded so fast, and by such a rookie? I was scared that I wouldn’t be taken seriously outside the world of Idol. I even wondered if my fans would like it because it was a completely new style for me. It felt like such a huge risk.
Despite all my doubts, “Crush” somehow ended up at number two on the Billboard Hot 100. I was totally psyched. To my complete shock, they also said it was the best chart debut in more than eighteen months, and I had a really hard time understanding them fully. We were not even finished with the whole album, and the single was already out and to my surprise, it seemed to be doing well! It soon became apparent that this would be the rhythm of my life for a while—fast and furious—and if I wanted to play the game, I would have to accept this madness as part of the rules.
If touring and recording weren’t enough for a newbie like myself, there was also the video for the single to shoot—a whole new challenge for a guy who can barely get a sentence out to a reporter, let alone act. I was afraid of becoming the laughingstock of YouTube, and I felt paranoid about the idea of having so many people watch me squirm out of my comfort zone. It was a terrifying but crucial part of the process, especially if we wanted the single to continue to do well. But I was always so uncomfortable in front of the cameras; I just didn’t know how I was going to tackle this new beast.
We shot the video in Atlanta on one of my days off from the tour. I had a show the day before and another one the day after, so the pressure was on; we had to make sure we got all the shots right. It was a beautiful summer morning, and the plan was to shoot just as the sun was coming up, which of course made for excellent inspiration. I thought: All I have to do is sing like I know how to sing, and try to let loose.
In the end, it was a lot less stressful than I thought it would be, and way m
ore fun than I ever could have expected. I have family on my mom’s side that lives in Atlanta, so my dad surprised me by having the whole family fly out to see my first video shoot as well as go to a few shows in Atlanta and Tampa. It was so nice to be all together, if only for a few days, and it felt incredibly supportive to have my relatives there while I was working on this latest challenge. It taught me that sometimes the anticipation of something is a lot worse than the actual thing itself.
In hindsight, I can see how important the video was in giving my song another dimension, another element for the audience and fans to hold on to, and a chance to watch me perform. I’ve already talked about why I think you should not only listen to a singer but watch as well. The making of the video got me thinking about the interpretation of the song in a more exacting manner, paying more attention to my facial expressions and body language, and bringing in a bit more drama and character to punctuate some of the song’s key moments. It was actually kind of cool.
I was afraid of becoming the laughingstock of YouTube
What was missing was the one variable that has always fueled my shows: a live audience. Without someone to sing for, I wasn’t sure how I would work up the right energy. After all, it was always the looks in the eyes of the people out in the audience that gave me direction when I sang. It was their appreciation that kept the fire burning for me during each show. How could I do it without them? I literally had to pretend that I was singing for a room full of people to get the song right and in the end it all worked out wonderfully. Though at first I had stressed out about the video, after all was said and done, I not only learned a lot but also had a total blast making it happen.
One thing I find to be kind of tricky is understanding the world of fans. It’s hard to understand how people who have never even met me can realistically like me so much. I mean, how can you get so excited about a person you know virtually nothing about? It was especially odd to hear that someone could actually have a crush on me without knowing who I really was! The whole idea nagged at me a bit. It made me question the nature of stardom, and start thinking about how I wanted people to see me as an artist. I didn’t want to be seen only as a teen heartthrob who catered to crying girls; I wanted to sing for as many people as would listen. But the “fan-omenon,” just like everything else, had its pros and cons, and I ultimately made up my mind to stay optimistic about the mania, accepting the positive things about it and simply observing and acknowledging any negativity or weirdness that it might also bring about. Besides, it was something that was completely out of my control, so there was no use trying to fight it!
Here I am posing with a group of super friendly fans
TOP 3 FAN ENCOUNTERS
▶ I’ll always remember the little girl I met through the Make-a-Wish Foundation. She had cancer and said that one of her wishes was to hear me sing. She was also a singer and a cheerleader, just eleven years old, but she couldn’t even open her eyes; she was so weak. I remember she was trying so hard just to smile. It just put everything into perspective for me. I didn’t want to disappoint her. She was beyond a fan. She was a sweet soul who wanted to be comforted by music she loved. She was going through chemotherapy, and she knew music would make her feel better. I have so much respect for that, and was honored to be able to share that moment with her. Three days later she passed away, and I always look back at that moment with strong emotion.
▶ Some of my best fan encounters are when people actually say something like “Thank you for singing that song; I really felt something when you sang it.” That always makes me feel reassured somehow, and reminds me of why I’m doing this to begin with.
▶ One time while I was on the American Idol tour in Pennsylvania, this girl came up to me after a show and gave me a diverse array of obscure kitchen utensils: an avocado slicer, a cherry pitter, and some other thing for corn, too. I thought, “Well, that’s certainly special.” It reminded me of how interesting and dynamic people can be.
At every concert, there were many young girls out in the audience, true, but there were also grandparents out on a date; I’d see groups of friends, colleagues and entire families. There were girls, boys, men and women of all ages, which gave me the sense that there really was a universal tone and message to my singing. I was able to finally see that the best thing American Idol had given me (besides some confidence and a more sharpened sense of self) was a wide audience. Through being on the show, I learned the invaluable lesson that music has nothing to do with the way you look or what your age is. Music transcends those things. With a forum like Idol each and every one of us was able to show our best as singers, no matter who we were or where we came from. We were finally able to crawl out of the shadows of our own self-criticism and proudly step into the spotlight, where we could begin to share a little piece of our souls with anyone who was listening.
If I thought 2008 was crazy, the even crazier 2009 kicked off with my own solo tour, which was almost totally sold out. In twenty-seven appearances across the country, I had the chance to perform alone onstage, and I had a warm-up act, Leslie Roy, opening for me, which was really strange because I was a big fan of hers and loved her music. Many folks in the audience knew the songs, and even the lyrics, from my album. But there were also a lot of people who didn’t know the music and were hearing it live for the first time, which I took as a total compliment. The idea that someone would come to my show without even knowing the music! Now that’s dedication, I thought.
It was really weird for me to accept the reality that I had actual fans. Not just Idol fans, but fans that would come out just to see me. It seemed completely crazy to me that so many people would even know who I was, let alone make such an effort to express their appreciation. Where were all of these kind words coming from? How could a shy eighteen-year-old matter to them? I had begun as part of the American Idol show, but now, for the first time, I was being given the chance to be me. I realized that, along with having a relationship with music, I’d now be able to have a very solid relationship with my fans. Each time I faced an audience, no matter where I was, would prove this to be true. There were some people I began to see over and over again. Why would they want to see me more than once? Why would they travel all over to show their support? Once again, I was blown away. I have always felt that without the fans, I had no way of completing the experience of singing, that without them, I would still be the shy kid in the backyard who felt safe singing to his cats. My fans allowed my music to become part of an exchange, which made me feel that someone would always be listening. I owe this ongoing experience to the world’s greatest group of fans!
The fans are always the ones who keep me going
There have been so many fans and from all over the world. People have come from Singapore, the UK, Canada, China, Japan, Germany, Italy, the Philippines, Denmark, Israel, Malaysia, Puerto Rico, Mexico, and so many others that as much as I want to, I can’t even keep track! It seemed that many of the fans wanted to go out of their way to make sure I knew just how strongly they felt about me. It was almost as if they picked up on my insecurities and worked extra-hard to make sure that I’d feel good about myself. More than fans, they felt like a team of morale-boosters who would always be around to remind me of my worth. The fans stepped up as the much-needed providers of faith and motivation that I would come to rely on as I continued down this new path.
CHAPTER 8
DIVINE FREQUENCY
“We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey.”
STEPHEN R. COVEY
Sometimes, in this constantly evolving world of pop music, I find it important to continually remind myself of my original motivation for singing. For me, singing has also been a tool for something else, something more profound, even spiritual.
No matter what song I perform, my primary goal is to communicate with the audience, transfer feelings to them, and then have the energy they feel come back to me again. This, to me, is the coolest thi
ng about performing. First the energy starts up; then it just builds and builds until the band and I feel excited, and then to see the audience also experience something incredible makes my role as a performer seem almost perfect. A lot of what I try to accomplish musically has to do with the type of song I choose to sing. Some are happy, some are sad. Some songs are just quirky and fun. “Touch My Hand,” “Works for Me” and “Zero Gravity” are songs I love to perform. They aren’t meant to be too serious, they’re just meant for everyone to jump around or clap or just have a good time. Other types of songs that I enjoy singing are more about relationships like “Crush,” and “Barriers,” or romantic ballads like “To Be with You” and “You Can.” There are other songs that have special messages and can really touch and move people in a very emotional and even spiritual way like “Angels,” “Imagine,” “Fields of Gold,” certain Christmas songs and “Prayer of the Children.” As much as I love all kinds of music, I’ve always had a special place in my heart for this last type of songs.
So as I think back on it now, I think it is safe to say that music is something you both hear and feel. I also realize that feelings change frequently and that for the most part, they are not a constant. They change from high to low, happy to sad, content to ecstatic and back down again. Not all music has the same purpose, but most music makes you feel “something.” I personally love the type of music that has the ability to lift and heal and inspire. I’ve always responded emotionally to music, but there are certain songs that go beyond just fun or pretty or sad. There are songs that make me feel something so strong that while I am performing, it’s almost like I am being transported to somewhere else and for a few minutes I feel like I am inside that song, trying to pour out as much emotion and energy as I can. Not everyone feels it the same way, but some people seem to connect at a very deep level. They too become a part of the moment, and the song seems to embrace them as well, and does something that borders on a spiritual experience. When the intent and emotions of the song are right, I get swallowed up in that emotion, and it helps me know for sure that there is a power much higher than you or me that is in charge of all that is good in the world, including certain special types of music.