Does anyone watch Fuse? It’s not a bomb-making channel, although that would make for some explosive television. Wink, wink. No, Fuse is the only music channel not named VH1 that actually plays videos, since MTV decided to repackage itself as the place to go for vacuous refuse starring money-grubbing D-listers and pompous teenyboppers, all of whom deserve to be punched in the face.
In addition to covering all-things musical, Fuse is home to such ratings grabbers as Pants-Off Dance-Off, a sexy little romp where ordinary contestants remove their cumbersome clothing to the beat of a song. I kick myself for not coming up with that genius concept.
Recently, to no one’s surprise, Fuse entered into the trite world of reality TV. Their latest effort is a poor-man’s American Idol called Redemption Song. Not exactly groundbreaking, but if Redemption Song is any indication of the programming we can expect from this fledgling cable outfit, I’ll be adding Fuse to my list of DirecTV favorites.
Hosted by pro-wrestler/rocker Chris Jericho and his ridiculously large biceps, Redemption Song offers eleven young women a shot at music stardom. The winning songstress secures a deal with Geffen Records. Sounds normal, right? Well, it does have its own unique spin. You see these eleven lovely ladies aren’t mousy introverts searching for their inner-voices. They’re bad girls with troubled pasts, and this series represents their chance at “redemption.” Clever, huh?
Now you’re probably wondering what sort of trials and tribulations this precocious bunch could have possibly endured? Allow me to describe each wannabe starlet in two words or less. Here it goes: homeless, penniless, drug addict, stripper, dropout, bad attitude, dumped, alcoholic, teen mother, blackout drunk, and stalker. Whew! All the girls you want to take home to mom.
It would be easy to pass judgment, but these gals are trying to put the pieces of their smashed to smithereens lives back together. How can you not root for them? I mean, who among us wouldn’t wish for a second chance to seize our dreams and find true happiness? Then again, how many of us have resorted to pimping in order to bail our boyfriend out of the clink, like the industrious Kededra? Better still, who hasn’t lived out of a car while feeding a drug habit, like the resourceful Angelica? And who can’t say they’ve been tossed out of a band for stalking the lead singer, like the determined Elisa?
Behind the tattoos, piercings, and daddy-issues are soulful singing voices yearning to be paid millions by hard-up record labels. To be fair, most of the cast can sing, a couple of them really well. But finding the next Christina Aguilera is not the purpose of this show. No, that would be drama, lots and lots of progesterone-fueled drama. Screaming matches, near fist-a-cuffs and petty name-calling are abundant. Sounds like an evening out with my ex-girlfriend.
But Redemption Song isn’t about my failed relationships; it’s about broken-winged songbirds fighting tooth and manicured nail for a better life. The series has a slight “I need a shower after watching” feel to it and I think that’s why I enjoy it so much. Train wreck TV rules: The first season of Flavor of Love was the Godfather of small-screen disasters and I remember it fondly to this day. So if you’re a fan of trashy, mindless reality TV with absolutely no redeeming value, check out Redemption Song Wednesdays at 11pm on Fuse. You won’t be disappointed.
Clacked by Scott Tunstall 
on Dec 03, 2008 @ 14:02 EST5EDT
Funny stuff, Scott!
“…since MTV decided to repackage itself as the place to go for vacuous refuse starring money-grubbing D-listers and pompous teenyboppers, all of whom deserve to be punched in the face.”
ROFL, that alone was worth the read!