3.27.14 Queen + Adam Lambert Rolling Stone Mag, Glee News ++
Mar 27, 2014 14:23:33 GMT -5
Post by kittykay on Mar 27, 2014 14:23:33 GMT -5
Mar 27, 2014 12:46:09 GMT -5 @grandduchesspf said:
Other things going on today, but some of the old interviews, articles brought back a thought I've had for a while. At any time have we had a indicator as to why Adam did not go to NYC for his career in musicals? It seems illogical to me that if you want to sing on Broadway, you don't go to Broadway. I'm sure his reasons are varied and multi-colored but just curious as to what he thought his trajectory would be staying in LA. Perhaps an independent career was on his mind even before Burning Man epiphany, but that one makes the best story? Anyone remember anything else?
The answer is somewhat in the Ulimate Interview Adam did after Idol. I read it as by the time he was experienced enough to go to New York the dream had changed. He could make a living working in Musical Theater and chase his solo dream. He had connections, friends and a boyfriend.
psyche.terrapolis.org/content/adam-lambert-ultimate-interview-la-times-august-2009-four-part-interview-313
These are a few of the quotes from the interview. Bolded part is the short answer.
At this point, did you know what you wanted to do with your life?
I wanted to perform. Even in high school, I was saying, “I want to be on Broadway. I want to go do theater.” So I had this dream that I was going to go to New York and do Broadway and go to college first. My grades weren’t ever amazing because I was so distracted with all the outside activities that I never really cared enough. I was like, “Eh, I don’t want to do my homework. I don’t want to study for the test.” I just got by. I was a B student and so I didn’t have good enough grades to get into the good schools for theater. I wanted to go to NYU. I wanted to go to Cincinnati. I applied to them and I didn’t get into any of them. I did get into California State Fullerton.
I wanted to perform. Even in high school, I was saying, “I want to be on Broadway. I want to go do theater.” So I had this dream that I was going to go to New York and do Broadway and go to college first. My grades weren’t ever amazing because I was so distracted with all the outside activities that I never really cared enough. I was like, “Eh, I don’t want to do my homework. I don’t want to study for the test.” I just got by. I was a B student and so I didn’t have good enough grades to get into the good schools for theater. I wanted to go to NYU. I wanted to go to Cincinnati. I applied to them and I didn’t get into any of them. I did get into California State Fullerton.
You were in the ensemble, so you were on stage every night, even if you didn’t go on as Fiyero.
Oh, yeah. I was an onstage cover. And we rehearsed it in Toronto for about a month before we opened and we ran there for about 2½ months. So I spent time in Toronto and then we went to Chicago. Spent a couple of months there and then here in L.A. a couple months and then San Francisco. And at that point, it was about six months into it and I felt, “I think I’m done,” and I got to this point where I thought, “This is what I’ve been working toward my whole high school career and my early 20s. This has been the goal, Broadway,” and I knew that I could probably go into the New York production the minute a track opened up but I wasn’t satisfied. Probably because I was in the ensemble. I’m not going to lie. It was probably a step down from “The Ten Commandments” situation. Bigger show but not as featured, not as much attention. Not doing what I felt I was supposed to be doing
Oh, yeah. I was an onstage cover. And we rehearsed it in Toronto for about a month before we opened and we ran there for about 2½ months. So I spent time in Toronto and then we went to Chicago. Spent a couple of months there and then here in L.A. a couple months and then San Francisco. And at that point, it was about six months into it and I felt, “I think I’m done,” and I got to this point where I thought, “This is what I’ve been working toward my whole high school career and my early 20s. This has been the goal, Broadway,” and I knew that I could probably go into the New York production the minute a track opened up but I wasn’t satisfied. Probably because I was in the ensemble. I’m not going to lie. It was probably a step down from “The Ten Commandments” situation. Bigger show but not as featured, not as much attention. Not doing what I felt I was supposed to be doing
So you left “Wicked” to become a rock star?
I came back [to Los Angeles] and took some promo shots and started rehearsing. We had a handful of songs. I don’t know if any of them were great, but it was a start. At the time, we believed in them. We did a couple gigs here and there. The band was called the Citizen Vein. We performed at the Knitting Factory one night, the Cat Club on Sunset, and a club in Hermosa Beach. We did three gigs and that was it and we recorded a couple things, like rough recordings, and I don’t know, it didn’t quite click. We kept writing and doing things, but then I got into my first relationship and I fell in love and I was going out a lot. I was dressing up, just living my life and having a great time. Falling in love was major. It changed everything, because up until then, I was 25 and I hadn’t been in love. I felt like there was a part of me that was like, “I don’t understand something about life, like a big thing.” I listened to these songs on the radio or CDs or I’d see these musicals about people being in love with each other and what that feels like and what heartbreak feels like and the joy of what love is and I had sex but I’d never been in love and just didn’t get it. It was really interesting because during and after that relationship, everything changes. It’s like, “Oh, that’s what they were talking about.” I thought that was so corny before and now I am crying because I totally identify with what that feels like. So that was a big turning point for personal growth.
I went to Burning Man, which was another big eye opener. People living in this utopian society and how beautiful that idea is — and after Burning Man, I looked for social outlets here in L.A. that were part of that underground scene, not the typical bar scene but more of a neo-hippie movement. You know, these underground clubs downtown. That was a really fun community to become a part of. Then I did a production of “Debbie Does Dallas” in Lake Tahoe. It was a topless revue at Harveys Casino. I was desperate. I could not find a job. It was going to pay me. They were going to put me up. It was with Anita Mann, the woman who did the cruise ship. I went up there and I was missing the person I was with and I was miserable because I was in a long-distance relationship and the show, when it was pitched to me, sounded like it was going to be a different situation and it tuned out to be not the most professional situation in the world. There was hardly an audience. They wanted to see boobs. They didn’t want to hear me sing, so they would talk. It was not a good gig.
I heard they were rehiring for the Los Angeles company of “Wicked,” and it had been about a year since I had been out of the touring company. They were going to form a new company and I thought, “I don’t know why I left. That was so stupid. I need to get that job.” And so I begged. They said, “Why did you leave? We don’t know if you’re just going to leave again. It’s a liability for us.” I told them, “No, no, no. I was stupid. I was lonely on tour. I wasn’t satisfied and had outside opportunities. I really want to be in a sit-down company and then I can work on all my outside stuff and still work on the show,” and they said fine. So I came back and I opened the L.A. company of “Wicked.”
I came back [to Los Angeles] and took some promo shots and started rehearsing. We had a handful of songs. I don’t know if any of them were great, but it was a start. At the time, we believed in them. We did a couple gigs here and there. The band was called the Citizen Vein. We performed at the Knitting Factory one night, the Cat Club on Sunset, and a club in Hermosa Beach. We did three gigs and that was it and we recorded a couple things, like rough recordings, and I don’t know, it didn’t quite click. We kept writing and doing things, but then I got into my first relationship and I fell in love and I was going out a lot. I was dressing up, just living my life and having a great time. Falling in love was major. It changed everything, because up until then, I was 25 and I hadn’t been in love. I felt like there was a part of me that was like, “I don’t understand something about life, like a big thing.” I listened to these songs on the radio or CDs or I’d see these musicals about people being in love with each other and what that feels like and what heartbreak feels like and the joy of what love is and I had sex but I’d never been in love and just didn’t get it. It was really interesting because during and after that relationship, everything changes. It’s like, “Oh, that’s what they were talking about.” I thought that was so corny before and now I am crying because I totally identify with what that feels like. So that was a big turning point for personal growth.
I went to Burning Man, which was another big eye opener. People living in this utopian society and how beautiful that idea is — and after Burning Man, I looked for social outlets here in L.A. that were part of that underground scene, not the typical bar scene but more of a neo-hippie movement. You know, these underground clubs downtown. That was a really fun community to become a part of. Then I did a production of “Debbie Does Dallas” in Lake Tahoe. It was a topless revue at Harveys Casino. I was desperate. I could not find a job. It was going to pay me. They were going to put me up. It was with Anita Mann, the woman who did the cruise ship. I went up there and I was missing the person I was with and I was miserable because I was in a long-distance relationship and the show, when it was pitched to me, sounded like it was going to be a different situation and it tuned out to be not the most professional situation in the world. There was hardly an audience. They wanted to see boobs. They didn’t want to hear me sing, so they would talk. It was not a good gig.
I heard they were rehiring for the Los Angeles company of “Wicked,” and it had been about a year since I had been out of the touring company. They were going to form a new company and I thought, “I don’t know why I left. That was so stupid. I need to get that job.” And so I begged. They said, “Why did you leave? We don’t know if you’re just going to leave again. It’s a liability for us.” I told them, “No, no, no. I was stupid. I was lonely on tour. I wasn’t satisfied and had outside opportunities. I really want to be in a sit-down company and then I can work on all my outside stuff and still work on the show,” and they said fine. So I came back and I opened the L.A. company of “Wicked.”
So you stayed for the entire Los Angeles run?
I stayed. I lived right down the street from the theater, and I really enjoyed being a part of it. It was a great job, and it was nice to have money again in the city and live my life. There was a producer I started working with. He was forming his own publishing company for placement in film and TV and advertising campaigns, so they hired me to be a songwriter. And so I would go down there a couple days a week during the day and lay stuff down and write and really started to build a nice collection of music and I felt like it was at a much better level. I’d learned more about writing, about pop hooks, how it all works. Through trial and error, we got some good stuff. I was doing some session work here and there, so I was really starting to move toward, “I really think I should go for this now.” I felt more confident and I started getting frustrated with “Wicked.” I felt they weren’t promoting me and it wasn’t satisfying. I started performing at clubs, just to get my name out there. I was going to release music. I really got into the idea of becoming a solo act. I think a couple years before, the idea of that really scared me because I was concerned about, “How are people going to think of me?” and “I’m never going to have a private life if I do that.”
I didn’t think I was ready for that. I didn’t think I could handle it and then I really got into the idea of it. I had turned 26 and felt, “I’m getting old and I still haven’t been to New York yet.” I knew there was work for me in the theater and I could move to New York and probably work there, but I’m particular and I never really considered myself the best actor in the world. I wanted to be myself, so I was less and less enchanted with the idea of musical theater. There weren’t a lot of shows that were interesting to me musically or conceptually. I wanted to do my own thing. So I started experimenting, doing club acts and the pop/dance thing.
I sang and I had two dancers and we were wearing really wild clothes and then I was doing stuff with Upright Cabaret. It was like the New York tradition of having all the show actors and people in town come together and sing, like Joe’s Pub [in New York]. I met a lot of great people through that and got a lot of attention.
I stayed. I lived right down the street from the theater, and I really enjoyed being a part of it. It was a great job, and it was nice to have money again in the city and live my life. There was a producer I started working with. He was forming his own publishing company for placement in film and TV and advertising campaigns, so they hired me to be a songwriter. And so I would go down there a couple days a week during the day and lay stuff down and write and really started to build a nice collection of music and I felt like it was at a much better level. I’d learned more about writing, about pop hooks, how it all works. Through trial and error, we got some good stuff. I was doing some session work here and there, so I was really starting to move toward, “I really think I should go for this now.” I felt more confident and I started getting frustrated with “Wicked.” I felt they weren’t promoting me and it wasn’t satisfying. I started performing at clubs, just to get my name out there. I was going to release music. I really got into the idea of becoming a solo act. I think a couple years before, the idea of that really scared me because I was concerned about, “How are people going to think of me?” and “I’m never going to have a private life if I do that.”
I didn’t think I was ready for that. I didn’t think I could handle it and then I really got into the idea of it. I had turned 26 and felt, “I’m getting old and I still haven’t been to New York yet.” I knew there was work for me in the theater and I could move to New York and probably work there, but I’m particular and I never really considered myself the best actor in the world. I wanted to be myself, so I was less and less enchanted with the idea of musical theater. There weren’t a lot of shows that were interesting to me musically or conceptually. I wanted to do my own thing. So I started experimenting, doing club acts and the pop/dance thing.
I sang and I had two dancers and we were wearing really wild clothes and then I was doing stuff with Upright Cabaret. It was like the New York tradition of having all the show actors and people in town come together and sing, like Joe’s Pub [in New York]. I met a lot of great people through that and got a lot of attention.
Where did you audition?
In San Francisco. I drove up with two of my best friends. The next morning I had gotten an hour’s sleep because I was really anxious, and right as I auditioned, I reached this epiphany where I thought, “You’re about to be 27. What do you have to show for yourself? You’ve done a couple shows. You’re working. You know you can pay your bills but do you want to do something great? Do you want to do something major and launch yourself? Yeah, I do,” and I knew that “Idol” was going to be, if I could get it, such a platform. I’d seen people that had been on “Idol” and were eliminated playing leads on Broadway, and I knew that’s the way New York is now. If you’re on TV and you’re a celebrity, you can get a lead in a Broadway show. I thought that’s what I should do because they don’t seem to want to promote me at “Wicked.” The worst-case scenario is that it would enhance my career in the theater and the best-case scenario is that I could do really well — and I didn’t know what it was going to be.
In San Francisco. I drove up with two of my best friends. The next morning I had gotten an hour’s sleep because I was really anxious, and right as I auditioned, I reached this epiphany where I thought, “You’re about to be 27. What do you have to show for yourself? You’ve done a couple shows. You’re working. You know you can pay your bills but do you want to do something great? Do you want to do something major and launch yourself? Yeah, I do,” and I knew that “Idol” was going to be, if I could get it, such a platform. I’d seen people that had been on “Idol” and were eliminated playing leads on Broadway, and I knew that’s the way New York is now. If you’re on TV and you’re a celebrity, you can get a lead in a Broadway show. I thought that’s what I should do because they don’t seem to want to promote me at “Wicked.” The worst-case scenario is that it would enhance my career in the theater and the best-case scenario is that I could do really well — and I didn’t know what it was going to be.
