Kareoke Night

One of the many ways our western world has poached a great Japanese idea and adopted it to our narcissistic traditions is the karaoke night. It stirs up so many feelings inside me.

Firstly, is a shamed sense of excitement and expectation. But I will get to that.

After the death of a great voice in pop music recently, I heard a very white, very red-headed woman belt out my favourite Whitney song, 'I Have Nothing,' in tribute at last weeks karaoke. She made me cry. not because I knew or missed the woman she was paying homage to, but because this chick has serious chops and soul. And it is intimidating.

Karaoke is the perfect thing for a musician when they are drinking with friends, and laughing at how terrible every act is. But when someone great, AND I MEANT FANTASTIC, takes their turn, it has a terrifying effect. I'm not talking about fear of them being better in any way (though that is sometimes true, and that's ok. There's a whole thing here about confidence in music and how not to compare yourself to others who differ and so on and whatever, she was good and I was a bit green about it. Sue me.) I'm talking about something bigger. If she is better, if a lot of these people are up there really killing it, why aren't they in a band at some other bar getting paid? Why are they sandwiched between the drunken frat boy rappers and fresh-from-a-breakup balladeers? And if I'm only sitting laughing from the shadows, how can I call myself a supporter of the arts, of music, a musician at all?

These kinds of doubts about myself and contempt for the industry are healthy and human, but sometimes they just make me remember I'm an asshole.

Karaoke is also a great release for musicians in between bands, those too busy with life to have steady gigs, or budding music lovers testing their courage.  But its hard to see the things in life that don't just answer the selfish questions we ask ourselves. Like why it's still a struggle of nerves every time i step up to the plate.

Coming to a night like tonight is always about appreciating the guts it takes, and the passion that comes out. After learning what I have about my feelings on this ridiculous and fantastic concept, I will never laugh again. Unless it's at me belting out Total Eclipse of the Heart.