Lucky Starr

Held aloft by an airy synth pad, the first band of the night cooed this refrain over and over. In matching pink undershirts, black ties and sunglasses, The Gaze was saying more than just the words printed on the large sign hanging behind them. Possibly more than any of the other varied and interesting performances that night (photos here), The Gaze were stating that they got it.

They knew how ridiculous the entire concept of the Starr Project is, and they were replying in kind. Beautiful, playful, homoerotic kind.

I can’t say that I know where the idea for the Starr Project came from (it was first done in Houston in 2003), or what exactly compelled the current organizers to start it back up. It’s a Houston happening that really could exist only now, in the time where reality television has pushed most scripted programming off the big three’s schedule. Don’t agree? Try this on for size:

Twenty strangers, divided at random into four teams, have just a single month to write and rehearse a set before competing in a battle of the bands. You, the audience, will vote to see who wins the big prizes and who goes empty handed. Forget washed up Aussie rockers; this is The Starr Project. Weeknights on CBS.

The Starr Project is reality reality. But, like reality television, it’s actually the opposite: a structure and set of rules to create a narrative; rules and structures that don’t exist in the real world (though they do in The Real World). We buy into this on television because we need a beginning, middle and end, along with enough interesting developments each week to keep us watching for the entire season. But then why try the same approach outside the tube? I have no idea, and I can’t think of anything else out there that might be comparable. Could it be that ‘because it will be fun’ is reason enough?

When I think of the sort of people that want to be a reality television show, my thoughts are less than positive. So than if the Starr Project is reality reality, would the same sort of people go out for it? Would these also be the sort of people I wouldn’t want to be stuck on an island with? Or, would they be like me, drawn to throw their names into the hat, but really unable to explain why? Why should I put aside personal projects and spend time on something that’s only going to last a month?

But regardless, my name was drawn, and for the next month I will be one of those strangers, chosen at random, to start a new band. We’re called Montrose Dolphins. Oddly enough, this is the second band I have been in that Domokos has named. I have no idea what to expect, I only hope that, like The Gaze, the five of us get it too.

PS – I had this misfortune of standing next to the trombone player in the last band (the one dressed as the priest) while he was closing his tab. Circumstances set aside, he was such a dick to the guys behind the bar that it blows my mind. Way to bring some negativity to what was otherwise a great evening. What a douche.