Chapter 441: Three Waves of Frenzy  

Average viewership reached 6.3 million, with a peak moment hitting 7 million.

The average rating was 5.7, with the highest moment reaching 6.6.

These numbers are astonishing for any late-night show on any TV station; they are even impressive for prime-time slots, easily placing the show in the top three for the entire day. Without a doubt, this show dropped a deep-sea bomb on the North American continent—

Submarines began to surface.

And all this was just the ratings for the final 40 minutes of "The Tonight Show."

It may sound absurd, but if you include the ratings from the first half featuring interviews with Natalie and Ewan, the overall average would actually drop.

Even so, this was enough for "The Tonight Show" to crush its competitors effortlessly, setting the best ratings of the first half of 2002 and further solidifying its position as the king of talk shows. But since when did the undisputed king of North American media, "Star Wars," become a liability dragging things down?

Ridiculous!

Yet, that's exactly what happened.

The ratings are the most straightforward and accurate evidence, and even the producers of "The Tonight Show" didn't expect such a stellar performance.

Of course, they anticipated good ratings, but to this extent?

Unbelievable.

Maybe Jay Leno was the only one who wasn't surprised.

No wonder Jay Leno was so confident from the start, even going to NBC's higher-ups right away, willing to make a fuss. With Jay Leno's two-decade career in Hollywood, why would he escalate to management over a minor issue?

As it turns out, just as Jay Leno himself said:

This is his show, and he knows its impact better than anyone. If the quality wasn't up to par, why would he risk his reputation to appease an independent band?

After the ratings were released, Jay Leno's actions suddenly made sense.

Even more surprising, and definitely worth noting, is that the peak moment in viewership wasn't during the opening or closing musical performances, but in the middle of the interview.

The moment Anson got up and left the studio.

To be precise, it was the moment Anson switched from being a band member to an actor, catching Jay Leno off guard—a rare occurrence.

That scene, that moment, sparked heated debates in millions of households, and you could almost picture jaws dropping all over the country.

This was the pinnacle.

In other words, the concerns Adam Scott had didn't materialize. Not only did they not occur, but quite the opposite—Anson's wit, performance, and reactions became the highlight of the show, even surpassing the band's jaw-dropping performance to become the night's peak moment.

And so, it happened.

Moreover, the ratings frenzy was just one aspect; the real climax of the show was the media frenzy led by the Los Angeles Times.

"From the streets of Manhattan to 'The Tonight Show' studio, an independent band crosses mountains in pursuit of their dream."

"Jay Leno's bold experiment: an unknown band shines on 'The Tonight Show.'"

"No name, no album, the comeback of a ragtag group."

"So, is this... an eight-handed symphony?"

"From 'Wake Me Up' to 'Hero,' an unknown band ignites North America's midnight craze."

"Spectacular, marvelous, unbelievable—a breath of fresh air, yet unreleased."

"One second to be hooked—a new band is born."

The focus, the buzz, the heated discussions.

Big and small media outlets alike immediately turned their attention to "The Tonight Show."

"The Tonight Show" has always been a media focal point, not even requiring NBC's promotion. After every episode airs, there's always a wave of media coverage, which is why major movie crews flock to the show for promotions—it comes with built-in traffic.

Moreover, this particular episode was already highly anticipated. The promotional campaign for "Star Wars: Episode II" was ready to go, with countless official press releases waiting in the wings. Numerous journalists had to watch the show to avoid missing the next day's news.

The result?

A frenzy ensued, triggering a full-blown explosion.

The first wave, of course, was the coverage of "Star Wars: Episode II." As expected, it was a tidal wave of coverage, with the reigning king of traffic once again living up to its name.

Among these reports were a few scattered pieces about the band.

However, over time, reports centered around the band began to surface, sweeping through the media landscape and taking over the spotlight.

Covering "Star Wars: Episode II" is a habit. Regardless of the show's impact, the coverage needs to keep up—no journalist would be foolish enough to miss out.

Covering the unknown band, however, was a passion. As Jay Leno mentioned, a band so full of highlights and buzz that it's not even a proper band, hasn't even recorded songs—this was a surreal and magical moment.

The band had no name.

The songs had no titles.

What kind of absurdity was this?

After the show aired, viewers who were interested in the band or the songs were at a loss. They couldn't buy an album, request a song on the radio, or even listen to it again.

This wasn't a hypothetical scenario; it was reality.

It was so absurd it was laughable. Even seasoned media members admitted:

This was something they'd never seen before.

And so.

The media, big and small, without any mobilization or coordination, spontaneously focused on the band, with discussions about them becoming unstoppable—

Genuine and enthusiastic debates began.

The frenzy gradually overtook "Star Wars: Episode II," submerging it.

Later, a funny yet true phenomenon unfolded across North America.

In 2002, with limited internet access, if someone heard a song they liked but couldn't find it, calling a radio station to request it was the easiest solution. Radio request rates were also an important chart indicator.

After this episode of "The Tonight Show" aired, a similar phenomenon occurred in different cities and regions across North America.

Listeners called in to request songs but couldn't name the song or the artist—they just hummed a tune or gave a weird guessed title, hoping the radio host could help.

Something like "Let Me Go," "Youthful Ignorance," "Knowing the Way," "Lost Myself," "Masquerade," "Walk With Me."

All kinds of odd titles.

Completely unheard-of song names, with these "misheard lyrics" giving radio hosts plenty of laughs, becoming talk show material.

But without exception, no radio host could help.

They couldn't do anything—

Even if listeners accurately mentioned "The Tonight Show Band" or hummed the melody, the radio stations couldn't help because the band hadn't released any albums.

In a laughable turn of events, "The Tonight Show Band" left behind a legend—everyone knew the band, but no one knew its name, so they called it "The Tonight Show Band" as a nickname.

Unexpectedly, it became a hit.

If this were a planned campaign, a record company meticulously crafting a mysterious band, it might have failed because too much planning could ruin the natural vibe. But now, it just happened and became a phenomenon.

And yet, this still isn't the whole story.

So far, we've only seen two waves of frenzy. The third wave is just starting.