These are, of course, subjective opinions, not facts, but I said Wildhorn and Eder are talentless for a few reasons:
Wildhorn, before he started writing for the theatre, was a fairly successful writer of pop songs. In the theatre, pop songwriters (such as Rupert Holmes) are welcomed, as long as they move away from the cliches that make pop sell and dramatize characters and situations as has to happen in the theatre.
The three Wildhorn musicals lost more money on Broadway than the combined career Broadway output of any other writer. The shows were set in Victorian England, the French Revolution, and the American Civil War. And yet, for the most part, the scores were set firmly in the same century: late 20th. (He also befouled the score of Victor/Victoria after Henry Mancini died... different setting, same old junk.)
All had lyrics that made me laugh out loud, not with them, but at them - howlingly funny without intending to. One song keeps throwing different adjectives in front of the noun, "moment" and one of these adjectives is "momentous." If a kid in a fourth grade writing class did that, he'd be sent back to third grade.
But wait, I hear you say, Wildhorn isn't responsible for the lyrics; he's the composer. The hell he isn't! When a good composer is handed a horrible cliche like "someone like you loves someone like me and suddenly nothing is the same" he sends his lyricist back to the drawing board. I can't imagine Jule Styne accepting that line.
But each lyrical cliche is matched by a musical cliche, and such things are a little harder to explain. (It's easy to point to a bad lyric.) Take A New Life. Please!
A new life
What I wouldn't give to have a gnu life
Better than a pig or kangaroo life
If I must be furry, set me free
OK, so that's not the lyric, but the tune keeps hitting the rhythm of the middle two lines incessantly, always leading to an ill-chosen rhyme. It puts one to sleep. Sometimes, the singer will combat the dullness of the compositional lines, by singing REALLY LOUD.
Which brings us to Linda Eder, who sings really loud. And in a Streisandish mode. What I concern myself with, most days, is making sure that musical theatre performers are living each moment, acting the hell out of their songs. Eder is wholly unable to do this, which is why, perhaps, she's never been cast in anything her husband wasn't involved with. It doesn't matter what she's singing (I am I, Don Quixote, the lord of La Mancha...) she merely sings it loudly. No acting, no facial expression. She's what my wife calls a park-and-bark. She stands and bellows forth.
I'm not saying its an unattractive sound. But when sound seems to have no thought behind it, it's boring.
Which brings up one more point about Wildhorn. Sometimes, he puts so much time between phrases, you could drive a truck through them.
Tell my father that I'm dead (pause, pause)
And tell Fred (pause, pause)
Our chaffeur (pause, pause)
Tell my father that I cried (pause, pause)
As I died.
I know some people like that song, but I can't hear it without falling asleep.
