Pop Rock, 2006
So, you’re Chris Daughtry. And you finished fourth in the fifth season of American Idol after having suffered the indignities of being called “egg head” and even “penis with ears” by your detractors. Never mind, that will not stop you from conquering the world.
So you’re only three feet tall. Never mind, Napoleon did nearly conquer all of Europe, after all. What you do is to hire three men even shorter than you, whose names all begin with J so you don’t have to even bother remembering their mensch names. Voila, so now you have a band. Named, of course, after yourself. Clive Davis doesn’t like the name The Chrissies, though, so it will have to be Daughtry even though that word is harder to spell. Tattoo that name on your body so that you can see it every morning and remember how the word is spelled.
Let’s make an album now. Pack it with generic and ultra-forgettable songs that will, at their best, make people go, “Hey, didn’t Bon Jovi sing It’s Not Over a few years back?” while at their worst, make people say, “Well, he was from American Idol, so he’s supposed to be good at singing other people’s songs, right?” Never mind that this album is completely forgettable and generic. Never mind that we aren’t even talking about Linkin Park here, we’re talking about Bon Jovi rejects. Be grateful that the parents buying this CD for their kiddies have no notion of the existence of groups like Hinder and Shinedown, not the best groups around but groups that come off like geniuses compared to Daughtry.
Pose like an emo hottie on the cover (use skills taught by Ryan Seacrest) and make hay while the sun shines. The kiddies will grow up soon and will move on to the Killers the next time they hear Read My Mind on radio, so there is no time to lose. Chop, chop, Daughtry! The world is waiting!