Très Bien singer Mikey Bostino initially balked. He hated reality shows like American Idol, but suddenly here was an opportunity to be on one: His three bandmates wanted to try out for The Next Great American Band. After internally grappling with the notion, Bostino finally relented. Four months later, he's still not sure he made the right decision.
The members of Très Bien, four guys barely 21 years old, have been close friends since before they formed the band in 2002 while attending Clearwater High School. Last summer they took the plunge and submitted a video to the Fox network. Then the phone call came, instructing the four Clearwater residents to go to Las Vegas for a tryout. It went well, they thought. Weeks passed, then the next call came, informing the members they'd made the cut and would be flown to Los Angeles.
The Next Great American Band aired on Fox from October through December. Très Bien reached the top six. The show wasn't a hit, but the quartet reached a level of national exposure rarely achieved by Tampa Bay acts.
"It was a good learning experience," says bassist Cody Wilson.
We're at the Fresh Mouth eatery in Centro Ybor on a Monday afternoon. The band has chosen the place because it's where they chow down after playing gigs at Ybor clubs like New World Brewery and Crowbar.
Bostino doesn't fit the stereotype of the outgoing lead singer. Generally, he speaks only when directly asked a question. At one point early in the interview, drummer Ryan Metcalf turns to Bostino and quips: "You're supposed to talk — you're the lead singer."
As a vocalist, Bostino sneers assertively like a '60s-era Roger Daltrey or Ray Davies — minus the English accent. Très Bien's overall sound also sticks to the British Invasion template: propulsive drums, scrappy guitar riffs and the occasional funhouse organ fill. Any track off their new self-titled EP could have been culled from the Nuggets box set. But what distinguishes the band is its songwriting chops, which weren't allowed to be a factor on the show.
"I'm still living off the money we made from Fox," Wilson enthuses. "We made $3,700 [each] in seven weeks."
Wilson has a full beard; a corduroy sport jacket obscures his gut. The other three have the starved look of rock stars. All four wear their hair long and shaggy. Wilson ranks as the most talkative member of the band — at least when it comes to reporters. But something tells me Bostino is by no means shy. When I ask if they were popular in high school he replies, "We were the most popular, because we had the coolest band."
"He was prom king," Wilson says of Bostino. "I was voted 'Most Likely to Become Famous.'" Crowe earned "Most Talented" and Metcalf was honored for his absenteeism with "Worst Case of Senioritis."
Early in the interview, the Très Bien guys have their PR guard up, talking positively about the Next Great American Band experience. But as the discussion proceeds, it becomes apparent they made concessions. Perhaps regrettable ones.
For starters, Très Bien thought they would be performing original songs. Instead, they were instructed to do 90-second snippets of numbers ranging from The Rolling Stones' "Get Off My Cloud" to Elton John's "Love Lies Bleeding." And then there was the no-drinking policy. And the drug test. And the multiple-choice psychological evaluation. Most 21-year-old rockers aren't prepared for queries such as: "Are you often fond of children?"
"I think I said 'no,'" Bostino says, still confused. "There were a lot of weird questions."
The lead singer also admitted to producers that he smoked weed and promised to stop during the duration of the show after being informed he could be drug-tested at any time. The no-drinking policy proved even more problematic. After all, these guys have been out on van tours and have grown accustomed to downing a beer or shot prior to show time.
"I was a bit more reserved being sober," Bostino says.
The Next Great American Band had been airing for a few weeks when Bostino found himself at the Urban Outfitters on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood. He spotted Rod Stewart at the top of the stairs. The two men made eye contact. At first, Bostino kept walking, reluctant to approach the rock star. After seeing Stewart a second time in the store, he figured "what the fuck" and walked up. Bostino admitted to Stewart, who was very obliging, that he felt crummy about Très Bien being on a reality TV show.
"[Stewart] told me that in this day and age, with the music biz going down, you got to do whatever you can to get your face out there," Bostino recalls. "He told me: 'Screw it, do it, do a good job and laugh it off when you're done.'"
I give Bostino a ring on his cellphone a few days after our meeting in Ybor. My question is simple: Would he ever do another reality show?
"Probably not," he admits. "But that's just me. "[Metcalf] would probably tell you 'yeah,' but I think the others guys would say 'no.'"
Still, "it was fun," he continues. "I can't complain. But then there's the whole self-pride and street-cred thing you worry about. But fuck it."
Bostino then rattles off a list of hipster-approved indie bands that have sold their music to TV commercials, like Of Montreal, which licensed a song to Outback Steakhouse. With a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, he adds, "I guess selling out is the new in-thing to do."
