Left In the Dark: The Unspoken Truth About ETA Scoring

I’m tired of tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. Before I get into this, let me be perfectly clear: I am not disparaging any winners or contestants, I am not writing on behalf of any one particular ETA, and I am not writing about any one specific event. This is a topic that comes up repeatedly, and nearly every tribute artist I’ve spoken with agrees.
We need more transparency with scoring.
Now, this might not seem like a huge deal on the surface, but hear me out. If you're an ETA, you already know the drill. If not, let me paint you a picture. You decide to enter a contest. You pay the entry fee—usually a couple hundred bucks—and arrange your travel, which can easily run anywhere from a few hundred dollars to a small fortune. You invest thousands in custom jumpsuits, wigs, jewelry, and shoes. You travel to the venue, step under those blistering lights, and sweat your heart out. At Competition A, you walk away with second place. Woohoo! But a month later at Competition B, you don't even crack the top ten.
Confusing, right?
Why were you "good enough" for the podium in one city, but buried at the bottom of the stack in the next? What changed? Was it just a different panel’s personal taste, or was there an actual flaw in your performance? These guys are left completely in the dark, scratching their heads and wondering what to tweak for next time. Instead of answers, they’re usually met with a polite wave and a "that’s just how it goes, better luck next year!" So, they pack up their gear, head home, and start the whole expensive guessing game over again.
I've heard all the counterarguments, and I'll admit a few have some merit. Organizers worry about judges facing backlash, which is understandable. People say the raw scoresheets are confidential or property of the sanctioning bodies. Others claim they want to protect the guys from overanalyzing every single point or comparing numbers with each other. I get the concerns, but there is an incredibly simple middle ground here.
Judges don't need to hand over every number on the scorecard—a quick summary highlighting what went well and where to polish things up gives competitors all the actionable feedback they need to grow. And it can easily be done anonymously. It doesn't need a judge-by-judge breakdown that points fingers. Something as simple as, "Great vocals and energy, but work on authentic stage movement," or "Fantastic jumpsuit and look, but work on audience engagement," would make a world of difference.
Just give these guys something to work with. They pour endless time, money, and soul into honoring Elvis, yet they're expected to fly blind when it comes to their evaluation. So many ETAs have vented this exact frustration to me, but they’re terrified to speak up publicly. Nobody wants to be labeled a sore loser or get blacklisted for being "difficult." Well, fortunately for them, I have no dogs in this race. I’m more than happy to take the heat and be considered difficult on their behalf.
Because at the end of the day, a competition is nothing without its competitors. These guys are the ones filling the seats, bringing in the fans, and keeping the magic alive. Many of them are wildly successful on their own, booking packed tours and headlining shows, only to hit a brick wall on the contest circuit without an explanation. Or they consistently land in the top five year after year, but can never quite touch that top spot. Eventually, after spending thousands of dollars to be left guessing, any artist is going to ask themselves the same obvious question: Why bother? If event organizers want these talented performers to keep showing up and pouring their hearts onto that stage, the least they can offer in return is a little constructive clarity.
Again, this isn't about pointing fingers at any single organizer, judge, or event. It’s simply an issue that keeps coming up behind the scenes, and I felt it was high time someone said it out loud.
To all the ETAs reading this: please know this is always a safe space for you. If you ever need to vent, talk through the frustrations of the road, or brainstorm ideas, my door is always open. I might not have the power to single-handedly change competition rules, but I can promise you a sympathetic ear and total confidentiality. You don't have to navigate the madness of this industry entirely on your own—I’m always in your corner, and I’m always here to listen.



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