A young man walked onto the stage, his body bouncing with anticipation and excitement wrapped in nerves. He smiled broadly and waved at the judges. “My name is Matty J,” he announced. He was 27 years old, originally from the Philippines, but had spent the past three years living in “Glasgooow,” he said through a laugh and playfully borrowed accent.
The judges chuckled and commented on his exuberance, asking what he hoped to get out of appearing on Britain’s Got Talent.
His answer was simple: He wanted to sing every day. To make music. To perform for large audiences. And, with a grin and a dramatic raise of his fist, “to conquer the world.” As the lights dimmed and the music began, one of the hosts turned to the camera and whispered, “Oh, you know when you just hope someone is really good…”
The feeling was universal.
Emily Erickson. Courtesy photo.
I rarely watch talent shows from start to finish, but clips from Britain’s Got Talent, The Voice, and similar programs find their way to me with surprising regularity. And I often click on them. I’m drawn to the vulnerability of it all: people risking disappointment (or outright humiliation) because they believe they have something worth sharing. There’s something undeniably moving about watching someone bet on themselves in front of millions of audience members.
But more than pulling on my heartstrings, my brain is engaging with them with neurological specificity. Our brains are remarkably good at mirroring the experiences we observe. We anticipate outcomes alongside contestants, experiencing dopamine-fueled suspense as they begin their performances. We feel connected to their stories, triggering oxytocin and empathy. When they succeed, our brains reward us, too, releasing the same feel-good chemicals that accompany our own moments of triumph. In a sense, we’re borrowing the experience.
Maybe that’s why these videos become an antidote during difficult seasons. When life feels heavy or the news cycle feels relentless, they’re one of the things I can count on to leave me feeling better than when I started.
Matty J stepped away from the microphone stand and began the opening verse of Prince’s “Purple Rain” with quiet confidence. His tone was clear and effortless, moving seamlessly between delicate phrasing and soaring runs. The camera panned to the judges. Their eyes were already beginning to mist over. By the time he reached the chorus, the audience and judges were on their feet, swept up in the beauty and confidence of the performance.
When the song ended, Matty’s reaction was as moving as the performance itself. His emotion sat plainly on his face — hope, relief, disbelief, pride. One judge told him, “I could see your passion, how much you want this.”
It felt like watching someone’s dreams materialize in real time, as though every doubt and setback had suddenly become worth enduring. The audience began chanting, “Press the Gold!”
The “Golden Buzzer” (each judge’s one-time automatic pass to the final rounds) is reserved for exceptional moments. Simon Cowell, famous for his skepticism and blunt criticism, walked across the stage and pressed it. Gold confetti exploded overhead. Matty threw his head back in pure elation.
A few minutes later, I closed the browser tab, returning to my mundane work task with my chest lighter and heart more full — the cocktail of feel-good chemicals still humming in my brain — as though I reached through my computer and took some of the triumph for myself. The experience wasn’t mine, but some small part of it felt shared.
If you, like me, want to consume more with this kind of emotional lift as a reward, my recommendations extend beyond talent show compilations. Alongside “Golden Buzzer” moments and “Best Blind Auditions,” I’ve recently found the same feeling in Amy Poehler’s Good Hang podcast.
The premise is refreshingly simple: no “gotcha” journalism, no manufactured conflict, no attempts to create viral controversy or forced promotion. Instead, it’s a seemingly safe space where friends spend time together and enjoy one another’s company.
Guests range from longtime Saturday Night Live collaborators like Rachel Dratch, Maya Rudolph and Seth Meyers to Parks and Recreation castmates Adam Scott, Aubrey Plaza and Nick Offerman, as well as comedy-loving celebrities such as Billie Eilish and Hayley Williams.
A recurring segment asks guests a simple question: “What’s been making you laugh lately?” And the answers are delightfully mundane. Kate McKinnon enthusiastically recommends videos from “Drain Cleaning Australia.” Paul Rudd points listeners toward news blooper compilations. The conversation repeatedly returns to small joys, harmless obsessions and the strange things that make life feel a little lighter.
Perhaps that’s what all of these recommendations have in common. They aren’t profound. They won’t solve the world’s problems. They won’t make difficult circumstances disappear. But they offer a brief reminder that joy, delight and hope still exist. And sometimes, a little levity is only a YouTube clip away.
Emily Erickson is a writer and business owner with an affinity for black coffee and playing in the mountains. Connect with her online at www.bigbluehat.studio.
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