Carson, Courtney and the ultimate shout-out
A day in the life of MTV's "Total Request Live."
By Sarah Kendzior
Aug. 29, 2001 | By 2 p.m., the line stretched halfway down 45th Street. They sat wearily on the pavement, tiny backpacks slumping on their bare shoulders, large, pleading cardboard signs by their sides. Some had been there since 10 in the morning; most had been waiting, in a sense, for weeks, and by now the heat and the noise of the city barely registered.
"This ain't nothing," you hear one girl, a real veteran, say. "I've seen so much worse than this. I was here when Backstreet came by and, man, that was dangerous. You don't want to be here when that shit goes down." Her audience, three wide-eyed young women from Florida, nods in understanding.
They've come from all over -- Texas, London, Staten Island -- to be in Manhattan today, their tired, huddled masses sprawling onto Broadway like a teeny-bopper crossroads of the world. Mostly female, their ages range from 16 to 22 -- as required -- with a couple of hopeful scofflaws thrown in. Nearly all are there with friends. The MTV studios -- in the Viacom building at 1515 Broadway -- loom above the crowd like a musical Mecca as the teen hordes scream, willing Carson, the great caliph of teendom, to answer their prayers of fleeting stardom.
Welcome to the world of "Total Request Live."
"Total Request Live" -- or "TRL," for those in the know -- is a video countdown series begun in 1998 in response to critics who wanted the "music television" back in their MTV. Hosted by deadpan dreamboat Carson Daly, the hour-and-a-half show plays 10 videos a day (plus occasional "wannabes," videos selected by the MTV staff for potential appearances in the top 10, and "close calls," videos that don't quite make the cut) chosen by fans who write in to the official Web site or call a hotline. Videos are rarely shown in their entirety, and are often interrupted by e-mails rolling across the screen or filmed shout-outs from audience members.
"TRL" prides itself on its interactivity, but both the show and its fans -- although not its critics -- realize that the videos are beside the point. "TRL" is an experience, a generational touchstone, regardless of the virtues of the series itself. The show's many teenage deplorers were lined up that day with equal resolve. Of the hundreds of teen and college-age kids gathered on 45th Street, few were there to watch videos, or even to see the stars in residence that day: Willa Ford, the oddly controversial teen singer, and, more poignantly, Aaliyah. Rarely did a teen girl utter, "I want to see Carson." The most popular request is "I want to see me."
This is a generation younger than MTV itself, raised in the shadow of reality TV and instant celebrity. On the afternoon of July 17, they were prodded, cattle-like, through a studio, made to shout inane pieces of dialogue on national TV and told to request videos for bands they didn't even like. But what makes this group different from, say, their flannel-wearing predecessors is the savviness with which they do so. While older music fans profess outrage for MTV's blatant commercialism, the "TRL" audience blows off such concerns as irrelevant. The goal, obviously, is to get on TV. "TRL" may claim to mark a return to videos, but in the end it's just another reality series.
Here is the story of a day behind the scenes.
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"I've seen so many celebrities since I've been here," says Justin, a Texas teen in New York for the week to visit colleges. "I saw J.Lo, and that chick from 'The Sopranos.' The best was seeing Matt from 'Real World New Orleans,' though. I got his autograph and had my picture taken with him; it was awesome. It was like we knew each other."
Justin is a big fan of "The Real World," and of all reality series, for that matter. He recalls with regret the day he painstakingly filled out an entire application for the newest edition of "Survivor," only to discover he didn't meet the age requirement. "The minute I turn 21, I'm going on that show," he says with a sigh. Today, the goal is more feasible: to get on "TRL," preferably, in the front lines, where cameramen can track his every "Wooo!" Justin had tried to attend a taping yesterday, but had to settle for a J.Lo T-shirt ("Now, everyone can be sexy," it says on the back) and his name on the MTV reservations list instead.
Behind Justin, two other Texas girls are gazing at the scrapbook of a local city teenager, which is filled with pictures of herself with various "TRL" celebrities. "I have been on this show so many times," she says. "Here's me with LFO -- aren't they hot?" Boy band members grin beneath the photo album plastic. "And I've seen Britney, and Shaquille O'Neal, and Lil' Bow Wow ..."
"So do you have reservations?" asks Nadine, one of the girls from Texas, putting a large, hand-painted sign on the ground: "TX loves TRL."
"Standby," the girl responds, referring to the line for those without advance seats. "I'm hoping they'll bring me up, but I've been here so many times." The Texas girls nod appreciatively. "So," she asks, "who'd you sign up with? Courtney?"
Next page: The all-powerful Courtney
