Dear Aspiring and Disgruntled American Idol Composers and Artists,

I find it strange that you would even think of participating in American Idol or its spurious songwriting contest. After all, the agreement you have to sign in order to audition is the legal equivalent of handing 19 Entertainment your lifetime power of attorney. And while the contract for submitting an entry to the songwriting contest is apparently no longer published anywhere, both can be summed up like this:
"I, __________, do hereby agree that 19 Entertainment owns me for the rest of my life, on Earth as it is in Heaven."

Some of my favorite highlights include:
- In addition to the rights granted elsewhere in this Release, I understand and agree that if my appearance, name, likeness, voice, singing voice, conversation, sounds and/or biographical data is used in connection with the Program, I may be required... to enter into the following agreements with Producer and/or Producer’s designee(s)...: (a) an agreement for the management of my career in the entertainment industry (including, but not limited to, my acting, singing, songwriting, or other services); and (b) an agreement for the use of my name, voice, conversation, likeness and biography in connection with advertising, endorsements, merchandising, and/or sponsorships. I understand and agree that such agreements shall become fully effective only at the election of Producer and/or Producer’s designee(s), which election shall occur on or before that date which is three (3) months from the date of the initial broadcast of the final episode of the Program for this Season (the “Election Period”).
- I understand that I may reveal, and other parties may reveal, information about me that is of a personal, private,embarrassing or unfavorable nature, which information may be factual and/or fictional. I further understand that my appearance, depiction and/or portrayal in the Program may be disparaging, defamatory, embarrassing or of an otherwise unfavorable nature which may expose me to public ridicule, humiliation or condemnation. I acknowledge and agree that Producer shall have the right to (a) include any or all such information and appearances, depictions or portrayals in the Program as edited by Producer in its sole discretion, and (b) broadcast and otherwise exploit the Program containing any or all such information and appearances, depictions or portrayals in any manner whatsoever in any and all media now known or hereafter devised, or for any other purpose, throughout the universe in perpetuity.
- In the event I perform or display any original material on the Program written or otherwise controlled by me (for example, music, choreography, photography, lyrics, clothing, etc., collectively called the “Material”), I hereby grant to Producer, without charge, the rights necessary to perform and/or display the Material on the Program and the rights required to exploit the Program and the ancillary rights therein, inclusive of the Material, in any and all media now known or hereafter devised, and for any other purpose, throughout the universe in perpetuity.

Notice they don't even limit it to the known universe.

Do you get the gravity of those statements? It means you can't win. There's nothing in there about the Program agreeing to pay you anything. That's because they don't fully intend to.

Now you might be thinking to yourself there's no harm it trying to make it, even if it means signing something so horribly unfavorable to my interests I may never recover. Well consider these scenarios:

- You audition for AI... and totally suck. Fine; a bad day perhaps. But if AI wants to use a clip of your disgraceful screeching as fodder on the laugh-at-the-worst-auditions episode, they don't have to ask or inform you. (I note here that William Hung is not complaining.)
- One of your vocal performances is really stellar, but you don't make it far enough to get any attention directly from the show. Being stellar is good, right? It is, but AI owns your performance. Want to use it as a demo? You'll have to ask them to license it to you.
- You get to the final 10, but you don't want to be in a Ford commercial. Too bad.
- You're sitting there, working out an arrangement of a Bee Gees song with, oh, let's say Barry Gibb, when you sing a little counter-melody that makes "Yesterday" sound like "Old McDonald." You'd sure love to finish that song and get it recorded, I bet. Maybe you can, if AI says you can use their song.
- You submitted a song, it got selected for the final 20, then a publisher calls you to discuss it. What could be cooler? Not having to refer them to 19E, since it's their song.
- You win the songwriting contest, the AI winner records your song..., and you don't get anything for it. Yeah, the contract never actually said you'd get paid for your song; only that 19E owns it.
- You make the top 25, but get eliminated soon after. However, it was just enough exposure for you to make contacts in the industry and you are able to sign a publishing deal for some great songs you wrote years ago, and carefully kept secret while on the Program. Then, out of nowhere, AI sends you a letter saying they've elected to exercise their right to control everything you create, ever. That ain't right! Wait, it's in the contract, along with your signature.
- You submit a song and never give it another thought..., until you hear it on the radio. Oh, you didn't know? Yep, 19E owns exclusive rights to every song submitted, including the rejects.
- 25,000 people pay $10 each to submit songs, yet all of the final 20 songs were submitted by composers who've already published other, successful material. Hey, they never said pros couldn't enter. Thanks for the $10, though.

Okay, maybe these aren't the most likely outcomes from participating in AI. Still, do you really want to risk it? A few, such as the last one, actually did happen. More to the point, consider what you're trying to win. As winner of AI, you won't have any control over your career. 19E will assign a producer, pick the songs, pay you reduced royalties, charge you for royalties paid other writers, and book all your professional engagements. They know most winners will hesitate to sign such a contract, so they've included an exclusivity clause in the participation agreement. That means if you win, you can still turn down their contract, but you can't sign with anyone else until you've satisfied 19E's requirements. Is that really a prize?

Of course, nothing applies if the Program deems you worthless.

Clearly, the exposure from being a finalist, but not the winner, has been a career maker for some. Indeed, for one who wants to be a pop singer (not a writer/artist or in a band), winning AI is a valuable opportunity. However, those aren't the people who complain about the show, you may notice. Aiken, Hicks, Pickler, Underwood, et al. do not bash AI because being a well-fed singer, even one with a less-than-ideal recording contract, is unfathomably better than paying off $43,000 in student loans from the first three years of undergrad, while working at Target and living with two of the most accomplished Halo players in the Americas. Unfortunately, those AI successes represent the only way to succeed using AI. So if that doesn't embody your vision of a great music career, this show is not for you. The lesson is: read and understand everything before you sign it.