This is an interesting time to launch a primetime show about songwriters: Some are getting unprecedented name recognition while many are being exploited by an industry that depends on their work. As Tedder himself put it, in an interview with NPR, “If a guy working in the mailroom of Sony comes across the next Beyoncé, he gets more notoriety for discovering that artist than the songwriter that writes the song that becomes that artist’s hit.” Moreover, he points out, songwriters are often the least paid participants in the industry. Earlier this year, members of the Songwriters Hall of Fame, led by Nile Rodgers, sent a letter to Spotify urging the streaming company to change its payment structure for songwriters. Alongside virtually every other streaming company (except Apple), Spotify had appealed a ruling from the Copyright Royalty Board earlier in the year that would have increased songwriters’ royalties through 2022. “Songwriters are not treated fairly,” Rodgers told NPR.

Conveniently, the winning song on each “Songland” episode is available to stream or purchase immediately after airing. But on the show, there is no talk of songwriting splits or compensation at all; the real prize for the rookie, the implication goes, is exposure—just as it is across the music industry. (NBC did not respond to requests about the winning songwriters’ publishing deals.) “And it wasn’t about who ‘won’ because there are so many different opportunities for these songs once they get rewritten and re-recorded, even if it’s not right for John Legend,” McAnally told Rolling Stone. Maybe some of the writers—who are mainly peddling conventional pop songs that could be sandwiched between Halsey and Zedd on any given radio playlist, the kind of music I have come to associate with riding in the backseat of an Uber—will find luck elsewhere. But it’s easy to imagine an “America’s Top Model”-like scenario, where few contestants benefit as much as the experts do.

“It’s this idea that I think every songwriter has had,” said Aloe Blacc on the show’s accompanying podcast, which offers more insight into the world of songwriting. “We’re trying to figure out how we can see ourselves on TV; we see singers, we see novices singing other people’s songs and we think, Why can’t we share new songs with these amazing singers, these new stars? Why can’t we show the process of songwriting?” Blacc’s “Songland” episode has an interesting twist: He’s not simply looking for any old hit single—he’s after an “anthem” to be placed in the upcoming action flick Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw. That purely commercial directive awkwardly articulates the sensibility of the show, but it also makes for the most engaging episode thus far. By being directly addressed, the artifice is stripped.

As for the songs themselves, they’re mostly serviceable but hardly groundbreaking—the sorts of pop songs that can be as familiar as they are frustrating. Will.i.am’s winner, “Be Nice,” written by Adam Friedman, feels like a Bruno Mars throwaway; Meghan Trainor’s choice, the generic kiss-off “Hurt Me,” written by a 22-year-old known simply as Kole, was the first time fans of the show objected en masse, preferring a more introspective song. The other day, Dave Stewart, one half of the Eurythmics and a co-creator of “Songland,” shared with USA Today a playlist of the songs “that have captivated him in his career as a singer, songwriter and producer.” They include such tender classics as “A Change Is Gonna Come” by Sam Cooke, “California” by Joni Mitchell, and “Back to Black” by Amy Winehouse. But you’d be wrong to presume, as I initially did, that this sort of personal, soul-mining material would come out of the show’s first season. There are valiant efforts, and some iTunes chart traction, but halfway in, “Songland” is more an unintentional exegesis on the state of pop music than it is a springboard for emerging songwriters.