Blake Lewis sounds off on 'Idol,' digital music

Blake Lewis

was a cut apart from all the other contestants on season six of "American Idol." In fact, from all the other singers

who've ever been finalists on the show.

He's also the most honest and outspoken "A.I." vet I've interviewed - the only one who hasn't acted like he's walking on eggshells.

The guy who introduced beatbox vocals and percolating, electronic pop styling to the show, the spiky-haired and drily humorous Lewis surprised even himself by lasting all the way to the grand finale, where he finally lost out to the more mainstream, Wal-Mart-friendly soul-pop singer Jordin Sparks.

A solo album was his reward, the late 2007 release "Audio Day Dream" largely written and produced by Lewis and mostly playing off his strengths.

Now he's belatedly touring behind the project, with a show at the North Star on Sunday featuring the guy on guitar, piano and a mess of voice-altering "toys," plus a band of friends, some of whom he's been playing with "for upwards of 15 years."

The other day, we got on the horn to talk about the hows and whys of his life and career.

Q: From where you stand now, what's your take on that TV extravaganza?

A: I never thought I'd be on a show called "American Idol." I never watched it before. I surely don't believe in false idols and idolatry in general. The whole thing was crazy, but, you know, my path was chosen for me. I go with the flow of life.

Somehow I wound up there and great people chose to vote for me, without me asking for them to. I got to beatbox for a lot of people. I got even 5-year-old girls and guys coming up, beatboxing for me. That was so heart-touching, that you can communicate through TV in a positive way.

Q: Did you always feel like an odd man out on the show?

A: [Laughing] They sure treated me like a troublemaker. Early on, when we got to Hollywood, we had this handler . . . I wanted her fired. She'd come down to the lobby in her pajamas at 10 o'clock at night and scream at me - where had I been, blah, blah. I don't disrespect anybody, but if I get disrespected, I'm over with you.

I also complained that they didn't feed us well. The catered food was really gross. The biggest TV show and you're treating us like cattle? You ought to make people happy who're making you half a billion a year.

So I'd leave, do my own thing. I brought a skateboard with me and would get away from the bunch. Plus, I didn't rehearse a lot, and they hated that.

I come from a jazz/hip-hop/electronic/freestyle improvising tradition. I did a one-man-band thing for 10 years before this came along. At rehearsal, I'd stand straight in front of the camera and sing badly. I was holding back for the live show. After three weeks, they finally caught on and let me be.

And I wasn't a team player. I hung out with the production guys - the lighting and sound guys. Maybe that's a reason I was successful. I cared about the true people running the show.

Q: You were one of the biggest sellers of digital downloads of show performances, with your Blaked-up treatments of tunes like "You Give Love a Bad Name" and "Season of the Witch." That must have made you feel good, didn't it?

A: Aaagh, don't get me started on that! I think digital music has really messed things up for artists. They've lowered the price and the bit quality too much, taken the art out of music, made it look like a hobby.

When we recorded those download tracks, we'd only have an hour in the studio for each one. The band would go in the night before and record the backing track, then they'd haul you in at 7 a.m. to sing. I'm not a prima donna, but I'm not an early morning person. I can't get up and start warming up my voice at 4 a.m.

Plus, they messed up a lot of my arrangements. I'm a producer, and that really pained me. And we cut these things even before we performed the songs live on the show, so right after you sang it on TV, people could download it. Truth is, I don't do my best until I do it live.

Q: So how was your experience recording "Audio Day Dream"? That had to go better, right?

A: Arista was attuned to my idea of the record, but not exactly the whole thing. I wanted B.T. to be the executive producer, not Clive Davis.

Clive knows music, he knows vocals, what do to with Alicia Keys. When it comes to electronic, my area, he knows nothing. The man is, like, 80 years old!

We wanted to make a Michael Jackson kind of record, each track different but all flowing together. It was definitely tough to do that. So I'd say about 70 percent of what I wanted came to fruition.

The whole thing got done in a month and a half, 'cause that's what they gave me. I could have spent four months on it.

Q: Is it true you've since severed your ties with Arista?

A: We had issues. I tussled, politely, with Clive over what should be the single. They spent $200,000 making a bad video for the wrong song, "Break Another," without telling me I was responsible for half the cost. Finally they did an audience test, and the song that scored highest was the one I wanted all along to be the single, "How Many Words."

That's the song that has the most meaning, that I felt was most relatable.

The album sold 300,000 copies, not bad in this day and age, and it was all domestic sales. They refused to put it out in Europe, even though I thought there was a much bigger market for it over there, given the electronic flavor.

Then there was a regime change at the label. Clive was demoted. This new guy, Barry Weiss from Jive Records, came in to replace him. I'm waiting and waiting for him to call us. It was two months before he got around to listening to the record. Then we finally got a phone call: "Barry doesn't want to favor the second option." Meaning, [he] won't let me make a second album.

All this time, we could have shopped for another label deal, gone out on tour. So now 19 Records, kind of our middleman, is helping us out with tour support. ["A.I." producer and 19 label executive] Simon Fuller said at the end of the last season of the show that they're behind me and want me to be successful, and he's proven a man of his word.

I'm working on a new album at my home studio in Seattle now. It's not a Blake Lewis record. It's a production record - Orchestral Drive-By. It's like Massive Attack meets Zero 7 meets Glitch Mob, which is the best hip-hop out there right now.

I'm doing it with my longtime drummer/production partner KJ Sawka, a renowned drum and bass guy. The man's got a great reputation - 2 million hits on YouTube. Check him out.

Q: Ever think of writing an "American Idol" tell-all book? With your frank attitude, I think it could be a good read and would sell well.

A: If I ever do, I'll give you credit. But the person I think should do that is Sanjaya Malakar. I was very vocal about him, didn't think he should be on the show. But he's a great kid. And his life story is super shocking. I can't tell you why. I've burned him enough already. Trust me, though. It'd be a New York Times best seller. *

North Star Bar, 27th and Poplar streets, 7 p.m. Sunday, Carlotta opens, all-ages show, $10, 215-787-0488, www.northstarbar.com.