Karaoke Advice

It’s a...Tuesday? I think? In the summer? I do know that it’s August, because I moved back to the States on August 1st. So I’m also completely jet lagged and I don’t have any sense of the time of day. To add to my confusion/displacement, I’m staying in my childhood bedroom at my mom’s house which has remained relatively unchanged since the mid-90s. (Case in point, my sister and I still refer to one of the bathrooms as “the new bathroom” although it was renovated in 1995.) So every day I wake up at about 5am craving enchiladas, and unsure about what decade it is, and where I am in my life. But I don’t think this is a unique problem. I assume that most of you are feeling aimless, unsure of the day of the week, and perhaps craving enchiladas at whatever hour you awaken. All of the “normal” markers of life are gone. Seems like a good moment to do a deep (medium?) dive into songs about time. 

Time (Clock of the Heart) - Culture Club 

[This is Karen’s only entry because not only is time meaningless, but I can’t remember any songs I have ever heard at all over the last 44 years.] 

I go through periods every few years where all I want to do is listen to this song on repeat and start crying a little bit when actual chiming reminiscent of a beautiful yet merciless clock gently starts up during the chorus, and if that’s not something you can relate to, I guess you probably didn’t grow up waiting to just get to the part when you’re an older yet wiser divorcee in a peignoir with a high rise apartment featuring large windows to knowingly gaze out of over a twinkling cityscape as a saxophone solo wails in the background. 

Well, some of that has come true for me, but not most of it, but luckily there’s always SOPHISTI-POP to help me cut to that feeling. According to Wikipedia, this is a term applied retrospectively to music “that emerged during the mid-1980s in the UK which incorporated elements of jazz, soul, and pop.” To me it’s songs that came on Top 40 radio after my mid-1980s bedtime of 8:00 pm so I had to listen to them on my clock radio stashed under my pillow and fantasize as detailed above and also something about impatiently taking off a large clip-on earring to answer the phone. 

This feels like a love song but it’s actually a giant dis and a meditation on the sunk-cost fallacy of long-term relationships that are dead in the water. “Time won’t give me time / And time makes lovers feel / like they got something real / but you and me we know we got nothiiiiiiiiiiin’ but time.” At first it feels romantic--we’ve got nothing but time, baby, time to spend together in this beautiful partnership. But wait a minute. Time makes lovers feel like they have something real, but in this case the lovers have...nothing but time. That’s it. Time and nothing else is what’s keeping them together. The charming chiming is actually signalling the death knell of a relationship. “Time won’t give me time.” Isn’t that the truth? Also: an excellent saxophone solo.

Time Passages - Al Stewart

I always get Al Stewart and Dave Stewart of The Eurythmics mixed up. (I know, I know.) This song is actually pretty boring: a perfect fit for this period of ongoing malaise. The experience of listening to it is the equivalent of not listening to anything. It also seems to go on forever, clocking in at 6 minutes and 40 seconds. 

There’s a seemingly endless youtube video someone made which pairs the song with just pictures of sunsets and skies. It’s exhausting and somehow irritating to watch. I think it’s supposed to be relaxing? 

There’s also a weird screaming instrument (or person) at just about the halfway point. So, it turns out I hate this song. I didn’t know until I started this entry. I learned something new about myself today. If you want everyone to die of boredom, you could sing this at karaoke. Actually, that would be a great idea for a room full of drunk kickball players. Please someone take me up on this challenge when and if we can ever safely gather again.

Breathe (2 AM) - Anna Nalick

I don’t know where Anna Nalick came from or where she went after she wisely cautioned us all to “just breathe” at 2am when we are waking up in a cold sweat and calling her for advice. Actually, at 2am I haven’t gone to sleep yet. I’m likely doing one of the following: having a debate with myself in my head about whether or not I should just give up sleeping and start a movie; deciding if it actually matters if I brush my teeth; wondering what things are plugged in that shouldn’t be; and/or mentally cataloging every boy I ever kissed. Also if someone called me at 2am I would scream. I’m calling BS on Anna Nalick actually picking up. At any rate, she is a really good friend to even consider answering the phone at that hour. Also maybe put your phone on vibrate?

Chicago - Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

This is truly the question for RIGHT NOW. It’s also a really really dumb song. It seems like a filler song, like truly stream-of-consciousness writing (no shade; I’m doing the same thing right now!). But I’m envisioning the producer of Chicago’s album saying kind of last minute, “guys, we need one more song on this record. Literally anything.” I mean, look at the lyrics:

As I was walking down the street one day / A man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was on my watch / And I said / Does anybody really know what time it is 

I mean, maybe I’m not giving the songwriter (Robert Lamm!) enough credit. I guess he’s having the same existential crisis that we all are? But I just find the whole thing so irritating. Who wants to listen to a play-by-play of his day and the people he encounters while on his ambling stroll? TL/dr: one guy wants to know what time it is, some lady feels the need to inform him that her watch has stopped, and then there’s a lot of pushing and shoving (?!) as people are going to and from work. But not our narrator! He’s just walking around, waiting to be approached, so he can NOT ANSWER the question he is asked, and instead ponder the meaning of life. It’s so annoying! And also completely confusing how this was a HIT SINGLE?!! The 70’s, man. (More about this soon.)

Time in a Bottle - Jim Croce

When I lived in England (the first time, as a kid) I had my first BEST best friend, Judith. (Hi Pudes, if you’re reading this.) Like the first person outside my family who actually totally *got* me. I guess we got each other? It was actually how I always imagined friendship to be, but it had never happened like that for me before. 

We hung out every day after school and spent most weekends together. We’d stay up late listening to music in her room and just talking, talking, talking deep into the night. It was just before either of us had discovered boys, so all the energy that would later be used for crushes and romance was channeled into this amazing friendship. 

When we moved back to the US, I was devastated. 

We wrote long, newsy letters to each other faithfully for years. We saw each other every summer. I think it was the first summer we were reunited (her family came to the US to visit) that we sunk a lot of hours listening to “Time in a Bottle” and feeling sad about our fleeting moments together. We took the unusual step of writing the lyrics out on belts (?!!) for each other, and that belt with her handwriting and Jim’s lyrics hung on my closet door for all of high school. 

But there never seems to be enough time / To do the things you want to do / Once you find them / I've looked around enough to know / That you're the one I want to go / Through time with.

The bitter irony here, of course, is I lived in England again until last Saturday, and there still wasn’t enough time to see her. Not that we were allowed to for much of the past several months, anyway. But regardless, we have families and busy lives of our own now, and that brief fleeting moment when friendship is your only responsibility has long passed. 

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

I get a Strong Emotional Reaction from the opening chords of this song; do you? Flashback, warm nights!

This is one of three CL songs that I mix up. I always wonder, is this the one that makes me sad and I also think might be good to sing at karaoke? So I start here. Then, I realize, no, the one I’m thinking of has a longer title and something to do with night.

Oh! It must be “I Drove All Night.” So I move on to that one but it’s too upbeat.

Finally, I realize I must be thinking about “All Through the Night” and get the gut-punch nostalgia hit I was seeking from the opening keyboard twinkle. (Twinkle?!)  Hope you enjoyed this tour of my brain.

Anyway, back to this song. Time after time, Cyndi helps me sift through the suitcase of memories, dreaming about my bright future as Mrs. Corey Feldman. Like Karen’s SOPHISTI-POP entry, this is another ten-year-old under-the-covers listening experience. With no baseline for actual relationships, I pictured this as a treatise on Adult Love. A series of gauzy-hued Missed Connections, punctuated by consent issues (you say, go slow).

Upon grown-up relistening, it is a strikingly accurate portrayal of Relationships. She’ll be waiting for her lover, time after time, no matter what; but also literally waiting--what with the clock ticking and the second hand unwinding. I’ll wait for you forever but also it’s 7:35 WHERE ARE YOU.

(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life - Bill Medley / Jennifer Warren

This is not the best song on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. That honor OBVIOUSLY belongs to “Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen. I don’t think you need to hear any more details about my ten-year old fantasies though, so I will spare you. 

“(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” made a recent reappearance in my life when it was played at a Halloween party. I had a drunken miscommunication with my friend Nelson where I stood at one end of the dance floor and ran towards him at full speed, thinking he would somehow instinctively do “the lift”. But instead I just crashed into him and almost broke his glasses and nose. So, this is really just a word of warning. 

Also, Patrick Swayze is SO MUCH OLDER then Jennifer Grey; how did we not notice/care? Just so busy stanning Baby and Johnny Castle. Better or worse than the glaring age gap between David Bowie and Jennifer Connolly in Labyrinth? EVERYTHING IS RUINED.

All My Life - K-Ci & JoJo

Luckily, the YouTube comments have written this entry for us. 

Y.N. 2 months ago

Who’s listening during quarantine?  😁

O.S. 3 weeks ago

If you are also randomly playing old music. Hit like

JO 1 month ago (edited) 0% Butt shaking  0% Drugs 0% Lambos 0% Strippers 0% Cursing 100% TALENT

J.C. 2 weeks ago (edited)

We apologize for our recent lack of content/advice. This brief but potent review from David “Reggie” Dougan comes fresh from our karaoke family group chat; please enjoy.

Tonight I lived my dream of playing a rock show and then walking down a flight of stairs and singing karaoke. Anyways the Harvard Sq. Hong Kong karaoke is pretty...  raw? There was a woman who was wildly dancing with herself in the mostly empty room for maybe twenty minutes before karaoke started (and the room filled up). She eventually sang that Tupac song that samples Bruce Hornsby’s “That’s Just The Way It Is.” Then she just danced with everyone.  

We received the following urgent request for help and we live to serve the karaoke community:

I need karaoke advice for a party with...improv people. It's a cast party, I am a LOT older than most of the cast, and my voice is a B- AT BEST. Is there anything that might bring the generations together? Or a gem from the days of yore to blow their minds?

Karen here. Listen. Having worked with several improv people over the years, one thing I can say with confidence is that most of them fancy themselves really good rappers. It makes sense; the skill sets are similar, and while the actual results are extremely mixed, karaoke is all about rejoicing in extremely mixed results and celebrating them. Please consider some of these what I like to call “a-rip rap rippety do classics.” That’s not an insult; lots of these songs are great songs, some of them are bad songs, but they all have a certain cadence to them that’s bound to make the improvisers go wild:

Rapper’s Delight - The Sugar Hill Gang I Wish - Skee-Lo One Week - Barenaked Ladies (I know. I’m just reporting here.) (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!) - the Beastie Boys Just A Friend - Biz Markie Bust A Move - Young MC Goin’ Back To Cali - LL Cool J Thrift Store - Macklemore Lose Yourself - Eminem U Can’t Touch This - MC Hammer

Here’s another tactic: I was sitting in a bar chatting with my friend Miranda the other day when “Fallen Angel” by Poison suddenly came on the jukebox. All conversation stopped for a breathless four minutes of delighted yell-singing, enthusiastic pointing, air drumming, air guitaring, staring into each other’s eyes while yelling the line “ROLLIN’ THE DICE OF HER LIFE!” while air dice rolling, laughing in disbelief as we came in perfectly on the bridge with “too much too soon and just a little too late”...you get the picture.

I’m sure you all read my 2018 Vice article The Notorious Documentary That Accidentally Killed Hair Metal in which I mentioned a Spotify-based study that used listening data to conclude that our adult musical preferences set in right around the time we turn 13 for women, 14 for men. Sure enough, “Fallen Angel” was released and reached #12 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart on October 8, 1988, just two months before my 13th birthday.

Perhaps the secret to getting people really enthusiastic about a song is to suddenly spring the #12 song on the Billboard Top 100 from the second week in October from the year they turned 13?! Let’s check out our options for karaoke enthusiasts from age 50 back to age 25; I’ll even throw in a nearby “alternate” selection, say #11 or #13! If you’re under 25, well, check for yourself, PeachCheeks.

So, if you’re 50 now, you turned 13 in 1982, which would make your song: Blue Eyes - Elton John (alternate: Heart Attack - Olivia Newton John)

49? 1983: How Am I Supposed To Live Without You - Laura Branigan (alternate: All Night Long - Lionel Richie)

48? 1984: Cruel Summer - Bananarama (alternate: What’s Love Got To Do With It - Tina Turner)

47? 1985: I’m Goin’ Down - Bruce Springsteen (alternate: Head Over Heels - Tears For Fears)

46? 1986: Heaven In Your Eyes - Loverboy (alternate: All Cried Out - Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam W/ Full Force)

45? 1987: Let Me Be the One - Expose (alternate: Causing A Commotion - Madonna)

44? 1988: As we know, it’s Fallen Angel (alternate: Don’t Be Cruel - Bobby Brown)

43: 1989: If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher (alternate: Love In An Elevator - Aerosmith)

42? 1990: My, My, My - Johnny Gill (alternate: Black Cat - Janet Jackson)

41? 1991: Can’t Stop This Thing We Started - Bryan Adams (alternate: Now That We Found Love - Heavy D & the Boys, which is also a good rip rap rippety do option)

40? 1992: Do I Have To Say The Words - Bryan Adams [this is so real--there’s a lot of 90s nostalgia going on right now and I’m here to tell you that so much of the 90s was terrible, bland Bryan Adams songs that no one remembers or cares about at this point.] (alternate: Free Your Mind - En Vogue, obviously go with that one)

39? 1993: Cryin’ - Aerosmith (alternate: I Get Around - 2Pac)

38? 1994: This DJ - Warren G (alternate: Don’t Turn Around - Ace of Base)

37? 1995: Tell Me - Groove Theory (alternate: Roll To Me - Del Amitri, which is one of my least favorite songs and I have performed it at karaoke and it GETS A REACTION, let me tell you. Recommended, I guess.)

36? 1996: If Your Girl Only Knew - Aaliyah (alternate: You Learn - Alanis Morissette)

37? 1997: All Cried Out - Allure Feat. 112 [A COVER OF THE 1986 ALTERNATE, HOLY SHIT!!!!!] (alternate: Building A Mystery - Sarah McLachlan)

1998: Daydreamin’ - Tatyana Ali (alternate: Too Close - Next)

1999: All Star - SmashMouth (alternate: Bailamos - Enrique Iglesias)

2000: Most Girls - Pink (alternate: Shake Ya Ass - Mystikal)

2001: Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me) - Train (alternate: Izzo (H.O.V.A.) - Jay-Z)

2002: Underneath It All - No Doubt feat. Lady Saw (alternate: Sk8er Boi - Avril Lavigne)

2003: Why Don’t You & I - Santana (alternate: Unwell - matchbox20)

2004: If I Ain’t Got You - Alicia Keys (alternate: Pieces of Me - Ashlee Simpson)

2005: Sugar We’re Going Down - Fall Out Boy (alternate: Pon de Replay - Rihanna)

2006: Sexy Love - Ne-Yo (alternate: Ring The Alarm - Beyonce)

2007: No One - Alicia Keys (alternate: Rockstar - Nickelback)

There you are, a total of 60 songs with varying degrees of difficulty that are probably going to have an instant, unexpected, full body freakout effect on at least SOMEONE in the audience! A few clunkers, but overall a pretty good, not too obvious, not too obscure list. YOU ARE WELCOME.

This is Sarah. I have nothing useful to add because I think Karen has actually cracked the algorithm and BROKEN THE KARAOKE ADVICE INTERNET in what I daresay is the written equivalent of a mic drop. At any rate, my one additional suggestion (which I have previously stated is not useful, and I stand by that) is “Lonesome Loser” by Little River Band. I’ve heard this song about a million times because I stan (correct use of stan?) the 70s singer/songwriter genre, but I don’t think I actually listened to the lyrics until a few weeks ago. THEY ARE SO MEAN. Case in point:

Have you heard about the Lonesome Loser? Beaten by the Queen of Hearts every time. Have you heard about the Lonesome Loser? He's a loser but he still keeps on trying.

HE’S A LOSER BUT HE STILL KEEPS ON TRYING.

Please welcome back acclaimed guest columnist Wes Ball. Sit yourself down with a cuppa because this is GOOD.

I think this might be an article about getting older. But it’s supposed to be about Karaoke.

As I reflect on decades as a karaokist, my mind’s eye sees special nights and bad nights (and passes over the many indifferent nights). I consider the places I’ve sung and the people I’ve sung with. And it becomes clear to me that there are just three formats of karaoke: in a bar where you are called out relatively anonymously to sing from a stage; in a group where friends have secured a space, a meal, and a machine or friendly DJ; and in a booth.

What is it that makes each of these? What does it feel like to be in them? Are they all equal?

My first encounter with karaoke was in 1992. In a bar in Mallorca. Singing with my Dad at about 14 in that strange not adult/not child, exploring but still attached (and wanting to be attached, at least some of the time) early teen period. How do you confront this complicated accumulation of emotional pulls? Clearly by volunteering to sing in front of a group of European strangers.

I don’t remember the details. I do know that I would have sung a song that I inevitably won’t have known as well as I thought I did at the time. In that one moment, though, I experienced the joy of singing freely. Singing freely to a crowd and receiving their support. Singing freely so that the paralysing sensation of nervousness and the adrenaline that makes hands shake were gone. Gone.

The dial on the clock face spins fast. Twenty-eight years later, my most recent karaoke experience – with Mavis – was a similar event. The small pub, filled with people who knew each other; none who knew us. The weather was different (colder, wetter, darker, more English). But the thrills were the same.

Is it the alien crowd? Is it not knowing when you will be called? Is it the inevitability of nerves? I think it might be the uncertainty of what will happen between the singer and the audience. Sometimes it will work and you could be Freddie Mercury at Wembley. Sometimes it won’t. The bar room version, the BRV, is, for me, unsettling, uncertain and therefore exciting. 

++++

The BRV

Don’t sing

Wonderwall. The whole pub knows it. They know how to shout it. Unless you have the charisma of a megastar, you will not engage the audience; you might as well be on the floor shouting along with the rest of them. 

Do sing

Cigarettes and Alcohol. Still by Oasis. Still a song you (and everyone else) knows well. But just a few yards off the beaten track. You will be in control of the experience and the audience. Just remember to ready your air guitar for the instrumental section.

++++

The next kind of karaoke is an iteration of the bar experience: the friendly group. Let’s call it the private hire version. The PHV.

A dozen karoakists. Maybe two dozen. A room. Probably food present. Possibly Chinese food (in London, oddly, it is unlikely to be Japanese). Maybe people have eaten at a table before or during the singing. The commonality is knowing everyone. People haven’t accidentally walked into a pub that has karaoke on in the corner. They are part of a shared endeavour to sing together.

There is an order to these events. The small numbers and intimate venue isn’t necessarily entropic. People are there to perform, they want to show off the best of themselves to friends, they want to receive the adulation. There is still a divide—a fourth wall—between singer and audience.

Maybe it’s a celebration – a birthday party, perhaps. But like water springing from the ground, sometimes these events appear to be spontaneous. The geologist will explain that the great energy and deep time force that spring in the field. So look more closely and these events will have powerful underpinnings. People sing because they want to, with the people they want to. They just need a venue, a screen and some music.

The PHV is that powerful connection of friends to each other and to the basic urge to sing. It is a joyful moment.

++++

The PHV

Don’t sing

Girlfriend in a Coma by The Smiths. Lilting, lovely tune. Easy words to sing. Funny… if you are a complete sociopath! People won’t know whether you’re wishing your other half dead. Awkward. Also, it turns out Morrissey’s racist. Steer clear. 

Do sing

This Charming Man by The Smiths. If you can nail those wailing Morrissey lyrics and slightly unusual rhythms you’ll be a karaoke king. As for dancing, well, all you have to do is wave your arms around without any relation to the music. Easy stuff and short.. We’re all a jumped up country boy at heart. (Ed note: Morrissey is still racist.)

++++

Onwards, friends, to the end of our spectrum. The booth. From here on, abbreviated to the ARGH. Truly, deeply, I have mixed feelings about ARGHs. I’ve been on enough management trainings to know about the need to create psychologically safe spaces: environments where people feel able to dig into their soul and perform at their best, knowing that failure will not be judged negatively. 

Booths are safe spaces for uncertain karaokists to find their voice. But booths are ugly too.

They are the Wonka version of karaoke and we are Violet Beauregard; Augustus Gloop wasn’t wrong when he tried to drink the chocolate river. Chocolate is heaven. Karaoke is joy. Without limits, though, we go pop.

Without the limit of the DJ ignoring our misjudged song choice; without the fear of a sceptical crowd; with the limitless opportunities of a touch screen library we gorge. Wigs, crowns, and funny glasses pile idiocy on top of poor judgements. There is a reason these rooms have no sharp edges and the walls are padded.

My first experience of a booth was Karaoke Box on Greek Street in Soho (that’s Soho, American readers, not SoHo. JFGI). Even now it feels like walking into what I imagine it must be like to walk into a brothel: a dingy, narrow entrance; a hostile receptionist; you are taken up creaking, aging stairs, past sticky, dirty walls to your room; unintelligible screams come at you through the darkness before you find your space. It’s like leaving your soul and all moral judgement behind when you enter from the street

And yet… and yet… and yet… when karaoke is needed the ARGH is there for you on demand. When you want to try something new the ARGH is there for you. When a nervous friend needs pushing over the line to karaokist the ARGH is the place to go.

Booths have their place. But I am judging you for your song choice, even If there is no DJ to apply such scrutiny.

Karaoke bewitches. It casts a spell on the participants. It is performance by the ordinary, celebrated as the extraordinary. It is a good thing. And so booths are good things too.

++++

The booth

Don’t sing

I am the Resurrection by The Stone Roses. It’s too long. You’re hogging the queue. They’re brilliant but you’re no Ian Brown and it’s boring in a booth. People will jump on you. Pick something more interesting.

Do sing

Animal Nitrate by Suede. Short, aggressive, great lyrics, simple structure. A brilliant track that too many people have forgotten to remember. You’ll take your friends straight back to the 90s and they’ll thank you for it. There’s plenty of drama in this song if you remember to act as well as sing.

++++

I started writing this article thinking it would be a compare and contrast. As it took shape in my mind, I thought it would tell the tales of different stages of my life, and the times each of these formats have prospered. Its ending plea is to find the pure joy that comes from music, friends, food and drink. Maybe that’s why karaoke is so wonderful: it is so complicated. It lets our true self come out. It doesn’t judge. Even if I do. 

One of our favorite karaoke go-to bands is the powerful Wilson sisters, Ann and Nancy of Heart. They have so many time-tested favorites that (to quote ourselves) bring a little bit metal/a little bit goth/hair drama to the mic. Alone, These Dreams, Barracuda...and this week’s deep dive, the somehow chart-topping “All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You.”

This is an awful song. Let’s explore the confusing/dangerous premise. A driver (Ann) picks up a hitchhiker, they have a night of passion in some random hotel (or is it random, see below), she gets pregnant, they bump into each other a year and a half later and she screams at him to run away.

Ann, set the scene for us.

“It was a rainy night when he came into sight

Standing by the road, no umbrella, no coat

So I pulled up alongside and I offered him a ride

He accepted with a smile so we drove for a while”

So many red flags! Where to begin. Well, first of all, Ann--WHY ARE YOU PICKING UP HITCHHIKERS? Is this a thing? Hitchhiker guy, why are you so ill-prepared for inclement weather? I have so many questions. But where is the hitchhiker going? Oh, it doesn’t matter, Ann has a different idea.

“I didn’t ask him his name

This lonely boy! in the rain!

Fate tell me it’s right

Is this love at first sight? [No?]

Please don’t make it wrong

Just stay for the night

(CHORUS!)

All I wanna do is make love to you

Say you will you want me too

All I wanna do is make love to you

I got lovin’ arms to hold on to

So we found this hotel, it was a place I knew well”

Wait, WHAT? Are you creepily driving around town looking hitchhiking men? Is that why the hotel is “a place I knew well”??? If so, why would you jump to the conclusion that this time it’s “love at first sight” with a “boy” (?!) whose name you’re not even going to ask. Is the desk clerk giving you a knowing nod and the keys to your favorite room? (237? Don’t go in that one, hitchhiker!) Then Ann proceeds to tell us ALL ABOUT what went down in the room. Gross.

“We made magic that night

Oh he did everything right

He brought the woman out of me, so many times, easily

And in the morning when he woke all I left him was a note

I told him I am the flower you are the seed

We walked in the garden we planted a tree”

Quick question: how did she know she was pregnant already, assuming that what “planting a tree” is referencing? Is Ann a sorceress?! (Ann Wilson being a sorceress is actually the most likely and least controversial theory that could possibly come out of this deep dive.)

She goes on:

“Don’t try to find me please don’t you dare

Just live in my memory! You’ll always be there!”

So presumptuous. This man just wanted a ride! Also, she makes a point of telling us that she didn’t ask him his name so it seems unlikely they exchanged contact info and he will be able to find her; this is 1990! Pre-internet stalking! Presumably he could just come back to the hotel she knows well and ask the desk clerk if she’s been back around recently, but again, seems like a stretch. Time for the extremely squicky bridge!

“Oooh, we made love

Love like strangers

All night long

Ooooooooo we maaaaaaaaade loooooove”

Well, you are strangers. This is a stranger you just picked up by the side of the road in your car.

Fast-forward to...I dunno, some future time and place. Judging from the video, it’s been perhaps a year and a half. I’m thinking the place is probably the grocery store? In the next aisle we have Dan Fogelberg and his old lover fumbling in the frozen foods and up at the front it’s The Waitresses checking out with a basket full of cranberry sauce. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! SORRY. Getting off topic. Anyway, let’s let Ann tell us what happens next:

“Then it happened one day, we came round the same way

You can imagine his surprise when he saw his own eyes!”

She’s so casual. “We came round the same way.” Are they both living in a small town? If so, maybe she should have expanded her sperm donor search area. This isn’t a Big Chill scenario. I’m also not sure “surprise” is the best word choice for this particular encounter. I can imagine his shock, confusion, and anger conflating in a frantic mix of emotions, none of which is “surprise,” note about planting a tree notwithstanding. But, whatever. He saw his own eyes.

Then, adding to the emotional pile on, Ann screams at this undoubtedly gobsmacked stranger staring into his own eyes-but-in-a-baby’s face that she’s in love with another man but...they had trouble conceiving and so she decided to take matters into her own hands and find a hitchhiking sperm donor and just keep trying that method until it worked out? I appreciate anyone taking control of their sexuality and fertility, but this is wildly extreme.  

“I said please, please understand!

I'm in love with another man!

And what he couldn't give me (woooaaaahhhhh)

was the one little thing that you can!”

So this song is terrible. We all agree. And do you know who else agrees? Ann and Nancy Wilson! AND THAT’S NOT ALL! This is not even the original version of this song! The original was recorded by Dobie Gray in 1979 and is (as Wikipedia helpfully summarizes) “a love song without a storyline.” It’s just a horned-up ode to “making love”--there is no bizarre story involving seducing a stranger in order to get pregnant because the man you love is infertile. Is this the only way a woman was able to sing about wanting a night of passion with no strings--adding the heftiest, most unbreakable strings imaginable to the encounter?!  All we know is that sometime between 1979 and 1990, “Mutt” Lange (nothing good ever happens with Mutt, just ask Shania) decided it needed a rewrite, and here we are. Ann hates it so much that she devoted a section of the liner notes (remember those?) of their album The Road Home to decrying it. "Actually we had sworn off it because it kind of stood for everything we wanted to get away from. It was a song by "Mutt" Lange, who we liked, and it was originally written for Don Henley, but there was a lot of pressure on us to do the song at the time."

Ok, DON HENLEY was going to sing this?! How on earth would that have worked, with the whole surprise pregnancy scenario?! And, there was a lot of pressure?? Who, exactly, was pressuring you to do this weird hitchhiker casual sex but it’s ok because it’s for the sake of PROCREATION ballad? What the hell, Mutt?!

Best of all, in an interview with Dan Rather (!!!), Ann described the song as “hideous” and the lyrics as “problematic.” Ann, we totally agree! Why did you decide to perform this song in the first place? Tellingly, Ann and Nancy have dropped it completely from their set list, and have not performed it live in years. And in the end, it looks like Dan Rather got here first with his own version of a televised Deep Dive, but I’m ok with that. There are no new stories, after all.

So last month, I (Sarah) made a super quick trip stateside. Karen organized a karaoke night at our regular haunt in Cambridge, and we had a surprisingly wonderful time. The surprise elements were all the things we normally can’t control: the vibe of the venue, the host, and the other people in the crowd. Karen and I thought this anomaly was worth parsing further; WHY is it so hard to have a great, easy night like this, and HOW can we replicate this experience again?

The host:

Sarah: We had a private hour from 8-9, with a host who did a perfectly serviceable job. The cook was singing when we got there, which is always a good sign. I was admittedly nervous when the “regular” host took over at 9. He was new to us, and his name is apparently Owen (which I only know because we texted about him the next day. Without this record of note, I would most certainly have called him Gene). Here’s the thing about Owen: there was absolutely nothing remarkable about him. He just DID HIS JOB. People put their slips in, he called them in order. There was no needless banter, no “old singer, new singer” malarky, no strange nonsensical system involving tables and singer order (I’m looking at you, Victor), and definitely no playing favorites. It was KJing as it should be, harkening back to a simpler time.

The crowd:

Karen: A good mix of obviously seasoned karaoke regulars and people who are maybe not quite so obsessed with/picky/jaded regarding karaoke. One fellow oldster actually did a Dramarama song, of all things, (”Anything, Anything, Anything”, great choice, in my opinion, if not a little obscure for a primarily younger audience) and she seemed slightly nervous about it but performed with aplomb. I should have explicitly congratulated her on her bold decision but instead I just gave her the ol’ perimenopausal enthusiastic nod/awkward salute combo (if you don’t know it yet, you will, you will); I hope she deciphered it. A group of Sarah’s friends did “Don’t Stop Believin’” and we joked that they obviously hadn’t read our advice and sighed belabored sighs, but guess what? The audience loved it and we realized that not everyone has been going to karaoke for 20+ years and seeing a continuous cycle of Journey sunrises and sunsets and maybe we should just chill out and let [streetlights,] people hold onto that fe-ee-ee-lin’ for as long as they can.

General vibe:

Sarah: I’m not actually sure how this is different from the crowd, but it was my idea to differentiate them when I started writing this week’s column so here goes. For lack of a better expression, it was just an easy, breezy, beautiful night. I think this was largely because Owen wasn’t freaking us out with some unknown system. During the private hour we held an Abbreviated Tribute to James Ingram featuring “Somewhere Out There” and “Yah Mo B There”. Once the room opened up, I made a vodka-fueled decision to sing a song I’ve never done before, and it turns out I DON’T ACTUALLY KNOW. But at some point early in the evening I thought “Come Clean” by Hilary Duff (AKA theme song from “The Hills”) would be a fun crowd-pleaser. Turns out the song is a lot more than just the chorus. However, it also turns out (as we have mentioned before) that no one is paying attention and it doesn’t actually matter! I was so disappointed in myself that my second choice was kind of an old chestnut (“Alone” by Heart, if anyone cares) which is easy for me but boring for my friends because they have heard me sing it 100 times.

Karen: We all need to go back to basics and recalibrate every once in a while, though--no shame in that. Fun crowd-pleasers are unpredictable--I think it’s pretty rare to find and perform one on purpose, similar to the way it’s hard to give yourself a nickname. It really has to come from other people, for better and for worse. Take Reggie’s performances of “River of Dreams”--I believe there’s been three of them now and somehow, every single time, it just SETS PEOPLE OFF, regardless of the crowd. The first time he did it the people singing along the loudest were, I think, juggalos. The clown is very much down with early 90s Billy Joel--how could he or anyone else have predicted that?!

In terms of why our last karaoke sesh was so easy-breezy, the crowd was supportive and enthusiastic without any of the pitfalls of an especially fervent audience, which often includes hijacking strangers’ performances to scream the chorus into the microphone or grind up on the singer or otherwise attempt to steal the scene. Furthermore, no groups made the unforgivable decision to put up individual song slips and then, when, say, Cody is called to the stage, all rush up in a group of nine to scream-sing “I Want It That Way” into two overworked microphones, only to do the same thing during Brittany, Tyler, and Kayla’s songs. None of that to be had. As you’ve mentioned, Owen was the consummate K-J. In control, on the ball, organized, fair, encouraging, but low key. He did sing a few times--very well, in fact--but he didn’t showboat, by which I mean no props, no golly gee whiz I’m SINGIN’ fake modesty, no calling out audience members for any reason, no “clever” original lyrics, no goofyballs song selections. If you must do any of that, save it for the nights when you’re a paying customer, I say.

The fall chill reminds us that the holidays are just around the corner, and it never hurts to be prepared! Soon it will be the season for awkward office parties, often punctuated by some meaningless activity meant to bring staff together…and for some reason, that dubious honor often falls to karaoke. We’re not sure how this strange tradition began. As discussed in previous columns, there doesn’t seem to be any middle ground for karaoke. People either love it or they hate it. So it seems like a bizarre choice as a unification activity for people who might not have anything to say to each other outside of the office. But maybe that’s the point? To create an atmosphere where everyone feels equally uncomfortable? (Aside from us, obviously!) The worst office karaoke experience I (Sarah) ever had was a conference room holiday potluck with no alcohol. Picture this: fluorescent overhead lighting, a karaoke machine in the corner, and 30 of your colleagues staring blankly at each other. Anyway, I got through it, and you will too. In the spirit of the season, we have endeavored to put together a list of song choices that we hope will inspire even the grinchiest among us.

Same Old Lang Syne—Dan Folgelberg

So this is the BEST Christmas song of all time.  If you’ve never heard it: 1. You must be British, 2. please run to Spotify or your streaming service of choice. Spoiler alert: a grown man, now a FAMOUS SINGER, runs into his high school girlfriend on Christmas Eve at his hometown grocery store. (I’m getting chills as I type this; NOT EVEN KIDDING.) I dare you not to be moved by the last line: “Just for a moment I was back at school / And felt that old familiar pain / And as I turned to make my way back home / The snow turned into rain...” (followed by a sad sax version of Auld Lang Syne, obviously). Also, who among us has not run into an ex (or worried about running into an ex) while home for the holidays? SO. MANY. EMOTIONS.

Last Christmas—Wham

This is a fine, festive choice.  It also has a lot of good “act-out” moves, which I realize not everyone wants, but I do.  Please do not do the “Glee” version or the Carly Rae Jepsen version. There is a difference.

Marshmallow World—Darlene Love

A classic, but be warned: I think you might need to be able to carry a tune to pull this off.

Hey Santa—Wilson SISTERS (fun fact: I thought this was by Wilson Phillips until I googled it one second ago)

This isn’t really that great a song but it’s just Carnie and Wendy singing “Hey Santa” over and over again so it’s pretty easy. I also like the idea of Santa just completely ghosting the Wilson sisters as they just call his name multiple times with no response.

Santa Can You Hear Me—Britney Spears

This is a terrible, terrible song but it’s fun to sing in the weird blocked nasal passage Britney voice (“Sabta cab you heab me?”). Also, you could combine it with “Hey Santa” for a rock block of pop stars basically yelling demands at Santa.

Santa Baby—Eartha Kitt/Madonna/Your Embarrassing Aunt/Michael Buble

Speaking of making demands of Santa, no one but Eartha Kitt should ever have performed this song...EVER. Eartha Kitt had a sense of humor about herself and about the song. It’s OBVIOUS that she’s singing to a beau and referring to him as “Santa”--weird, sure, but funny, and her matter-of-fact delivery makes it all the more amusing and a fine addition to the holiday season. Madonna THINKS she has a sense of humor about herself but she does NOT and her delivery implies that she’s going to devour Santa and guess what that means? You’re not getting a convertible, a ring, or checks with a dead Santa on your hands, Madge. Step away from the chimney. This delivery is, by extension, how every embarrassing aunt delivers Santa Baby and it’s awful. You can be a sexy singing aunt in a myriad of ways that don’t involve Santa. I’m not even going to go down the road of Michael Buble singing “Santa Buddy” and you shouldn’t either. It’s the holidays. People want to sit in bars with colored lights strung up around the room and feel a little melancholy. They don’t want to hear Steverino from HR smirkily asking for a “steel blue” convertible because “light blue” equals a chick car, I guess, GOD THIS HORRIBLE SONG. (Note from Sarah: my sister spent most of her life thinking the “slip a sable under the tree” line was referring to a MERCURY SABLE. Dear Santa, please leave a convertible but also a mid-size, four door, American made sedan. Thanks.)

The Hanukkah Song — Adam Sandler

Yes, it’s probably the only token non-Christmas option that’s available in your karaoke book (let us know if we’re wrong!) and it’s a controversial one. I (Karen) like it. It’s also educational—did you know Goldie Hawn was ¼ Jewish before this song? I didn’t! Sarah responded “Oh God, I mean, I guess” when I suggested it. To be fair, I also still enjoy the disgusting “At A Medium Pace” from Sandler’s seminal 1993 comedy album They’re All Gonna Laugh At You [no, I don’t want to hear you sing it, and certainly not at karaoke] and tear up at the “Grow Old With You” part of The Wedding Singer [no, I don’t want you to dance to it at your wedding...ok, maybe I do? I don’t know anymore.] I guess take some time to suss out whether or not your audience is going to be a pro-90s Sandler crowd and then proceed as you like. I want to hear it, though.

Do They Know It’s Christmas—Band Aid

I’m not sure why I’m recommending this because I think I actually performed this unsuccessfully with a group; but maybe you’ll have better luck? Also this song is garbage.

Christmas Wrapping—The Waitresses

Ok, (especially for non-singers) but I should warn you that this song is longer than you think. By the end you won’t care about this meet cute story any more, and neither will the audience. JUST GET YOUR CRANBERRY SAUCE AND GET ON WITH IT.

Fairytale of New York—The Pogues

Either a great Christmas duet, or a terrible shoutfest. Regardless of how you feel, you must admit this unlikely holiday favorite is in a league of its own. Warning: contains slurs. So if you decide to sing this, please omit those. Helpful life hint which can be applied to every situation: DON’T YELL SLURS.  

All I Want For Christmas is You—Mariah Carey

Really? Are you sure you want to do this?

A: You know, I actually like Radiohead as a karaoke choice, and I feel like you don’t hear it that often (aside from “Creep”--which I can’t enjoy as much as I want to due to my anxious anticipation about whether that night’s singer is going to say “fucking special” or “very special”). I think “Fake Plastic Trees” is a fine choice. Pros: people know it and it’s not overdone. Cons: might be a little whiny and a smidge too long (looks like it clocks in at close to five minutes). I personally might prefer “Just” or “Black Star” but who knows how deep the Radiohead cuts go at your local establishment.

A: Well, that’s weird and unfortunate. I hope you still had fun. I think there are several possible scenarios to explain this outcome, so let’s explore them all.

1. Timing 

What time did you arrive? Was the event in full swing? Is it possible you put your slip in too late to get called? In my experience, when this happens (usually after midnight, depending on how late the event goes), the host/KJ will give you a heads up in the vein of “we may not get to you tonight” or similar. I think it’s understandable if there’s a room full of people who have been waiting all night for their turn. In this case it’s unlikely that you’ll be able to waltz in at the 11th hour and get called up. However, some hosts do operate an “old singer, new singer” policy which does in fact leave room for latecomers, and gives everyone a fair shot (sometimes to the annoyance of people who have been there all night and WOULD like to sing three times, thank you). If you know you really want to sing, my best advice is to get there SUPER early and get your slips in right away. It’s always tough to thread the needle perfectly, and yes, there is a good chance you’ll be called before you’re actually ready to sing. But if the alternative is not singing at all, then I think this is a risk you need to be willing to take.                               

2. Misplaced slip

I feel like this is somewhat unlikely, and yet it is almost always my first thought. “MY SLIP HAS BEEN LOST!!!!”. This is an easy enough fix--just check in with the host. As our erstwhile KJ/consultant Michelle has stated in the past, it is ok to talk to the host as long as you’re not belligerent or asking where you are in the lineup every five minutes. I would limit yourself to asking ONCE, and if they don’t have your slip, you’ll probably be asked to resubmit. In this case I would guess that they will get you up right away. Or so I hope!

3. Jerk/incompetent host 

Who can say why hosts are jerks? But they can be. Perhaps they are playing favorites, or only calling up their friends or regulars. Incompetence is not as malicious, but equally frustrating. A host who’s just a mess and who has no idea what song is coming next or who is “on deck” cannot really be trusted to keep the evening running smoothly and fairly. This is the worst possible scenario, because there’s really no recourse besides taking your business elsewhere.

This week Karaoke Advice hops across the pond for a taste of the London scene. But this isn’t just any old karaoke-- it’s Rockaoke! Special guest columnist Wes Ball provides the latest Karaoke Review. (And if you have a Karaoke Review you’d like to submit, please get in touch!)

What is karaoke? The private room experience straight outta Tokyo and transplanted to K-Box? The platform in a pub with a DJ, CD player, and the Sky Sports projector re-tooled for the evening? The private hire of a downstairs room in a Chinese restaurant? At home with the machine plucked into the TV? These probably all meet the criteria: there’s no real music involved...and no real singing.

But is an open mic night karaoke? Or does the aspirational quality of it take something away? Is karaoke something that is inherently amateur; requiring of a willingness to fail?

Straddling this divide we find Rockaoke. Supported by real musicians, yet still requiring the submission of slips of paper to a controlling mind with a pleading look: “Please let me do this one tonight. I’ve got to get the last train, but this song is all I live for.”

Welcome to the back of the Star of Kings. Not the back room, for the pub doesn’t have one. But, on the last Friday of every month, pass through a proscenium arch that surely used to be a wall before the pub was hipsterized, pay your £3, and you enter Rockaoke territory.

The Star of Kings is neither too trendy nor divesville. Half a mile up the Caledonian Road from Kings Cross station, it has that feel of a pub that’s kind of in the middle of nowhere and quite urban chic (with more emphasis on the urban than the chic). It could be a grotty station pub. It is not.

And so Friday comes and you’re in the back room. The first sign that it’s not your normal karaoke night: a band is setting up. A drummer monastically putting each part in place. The others checking the monitors and amps. Books of possible song choices are absent. Instead a sheet of around 200 songs appears on tables. The pub carries on as normal.

Put your slip into the man. Do the look: “last train mate”. Nine pm. The drummer strikes up and a great band give you something that’s more than a cover of Bad Medicine. Shit. This isn’t pub karaoke. These are decent musicians.

In front of them the busy pub turns into a crowd at a gig. Friends of the band. Familiar faces. Others who know what they’re coming for. And the uninitiated.

At the end of the first song the lead singer welcomes everyone and runs through the rules of the game. Then we’re on. First name. First whoop. First karaokee up to the stage. In front of them is an iPad on a music stand – no song sheet here, no screen with a bouncing ball. Instead you are confronted with the lyrics. They better be an aide memoire and nothing more or you’re going to get horribly lost. The drummer leans across, tells you how he’s going to get the music going. One. Two. Three. Four. And you’re away.

For the true karaokee the mystery of exploring a new song isn’t there. It is, instead, replaced by the sheer joy of working with the band to hit the notes at the right time…and the unadulterated exhilaration that comes from a hit of pure adrenalin.

What did I choose? Rock ‘n’ Roll Star by Oasis. Why? For a boy of the 90s, a true devotee of Britpop, music begins with Oasis’ first album Definitely Maybe. And Definitely Maybe begins with the most almighty guitar chord announcing its arrival, a chord that says: this is music; this is history. “Tonight, I’m a rock ‘n’ roll star.” So what else could I sing?

This is no pub karaoke (did I say that before?) – the crowd is supportive and wills you across the line if you miss a section. Similarly, the band know their onions. You are an amateur but they are pros and they will shepherd you to the end even if you get lost in the loop of a repeating chorus (dear reader, that would be me).

What you learn is just how hard it is to be a singer. More than simply a frontman with attitude. Management gurus would love it. There is coordination, leadership, collaboration, and quick thinking. But the old karaoke virtues remain: can you hold a note? Can you entertain? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you have had an extra beer before doing this?

And then...suddenly it’s over, and you step down from the stage to the roars of the crowd.

Exit, pursuing a train.

I recently was asked in person, “which Bon Jovi songs are acceptable?” Instead of answering immediately in conversation like a normal person, I quickly texted my co-conspirator to double-check my gut instinct. She responded in the affirmative. “All are acceptable except Wanted: Dead or Alive.” That’s the short answer. The long answer is below with some additional suggestions which are hopefully slightly less predictable?

Don’t Sing This: “You Give Love a Bad Name”

Do Sing This: “Lay Your Hands on Me”

I know, I know. I play my part and you play your game. And there is that great clap-along part for audience participation. But LYHoM has the added advantage of being slightly less done (actually, not sure I have ever seen anyone perform this?) while still being a sure-fire Stadium Rock Hit. And the lyrics consist mostly of JBJ singing “Lay Your Hands on Me” over and over again, so that’s easy.

Don’t Sing This: “Born to Be My Baby”

Do Sing This: “Never Say Goodbye”

I haven’t thought about “Never Say Goodbye” in at least 20 years. I loved this song as a kid and especially the advance nostalgia that came along with it. I’m sure there’s a word for that, feeling wistful for memories that have yet to be made. I spent a lot of time daydreaming as an 80’s kid and listening to songs like this--imagining being a grown-up and looking back fondly on my sure-to-be amazing teenage years which would definitely include slow-dancing and the back seats of cars. (See also: “Jack and Diane”.) And now that I am actually old this song elicits those memories for real! Sing this, and I (and many others) will hold our phones aloft!

Don’t Sing This: “I’ll Be There For You”

Do Sing This: “Bed of Roses”

If it’s the sweeter side of JBJ that you’re after, may I please suggest Bed of Roses? If only for the passionate lyrics. After the hear the opening strains, I guarantee that at least half the audience will be waiting rapturously for the moment they can join you in singing/yelling “FOR TONIGHT I SLEEP ON A BED OF NAILS!” I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

Don’t Sing This: “Living on a Prayer”

Do Sing This: “Living on a Prayer”

FINE. I KNOW I CAN’T STOP YOU.

This week we kick off a new feature here at Karaoke Advice: Karaoke Review! We’ll be running reviews of all the places we as karaoke fans go to sing and listen to karaoke! This week dear friend and fellow karaoke connoisseur Tim Hulsizer introduces us to The Request Room of Northampton, MA. I (Karen) LIVE IN Northampton and didn’t know this kind of beautiful, kind of weird place existed until Tim clued me in. Now he’s gonna clue you in, too. Do you have a karaoke establishment you’d like to review for Karaoke Advice? Get in touch!

Deep in the urban wilds of Western Massachusetts sits the 28,000-person hamlet of Northampton, a cultural cornucopia of artists, merchants, multicultural restaurateurs, and an Urban Outfitters shoved into an old building that looks like it used to be a Post Office. [Editor’s note: It was a bank!] And I’d be remiss if I forgot to mention the music scene. A plethora of clubs and theaters dot the downtown of this charming little city and musicians of every caliber pass through here when they’re in New England.

Above one such venue lies a secret karaoke hotspot that few know exists: The Request Room. According to an article published in 2017, The Request Room began as a live piano karaoke party streamed online on Tuesday nights, a chance for organizer Josh Sitron to take live requests from Facebook and try to perform them with friends in his studio “13 Queen” above the Calvin Theatre. Eventually that fell by the wayside but the occasional Thursday and Saturday evening karaoke sessions remain. Now a Members Only happening, one must be introduced to the Request Room by a friend before you can start showing up on your own. It’s barely a step away from open admission but keeps the atmosphere friendly, as though you’re in the living room at a party, just as he intended it all along.

It’s this atmosphere that keeps me coming back to Request Room. If schedules allow, a few of us from southern NH will pile into the car and attend together, paying the sliding scale entrance donation of $5 or $10 depending on what we can afford. We always know we’ll see mostly familiar faces, some known from an area choir called Rock Voices, some met through the Request Room itself. Occasional emails announce which Thursday or Saturday it will be happening that week.

There are voices so sweet they must surely be professionals and, like any good karaoke experience, there are mediocre talents like myself. There are a few retired people. An occasional college student appears. There’s even a local lawyer with a dead-on Mick Jagger impression that’s always a delight to watch. You can bring water in but food is strictly prohibited. Beer, cider and wine are available for a $5 donation per drink. With the summer heating up, air conditioning has become available and by popular demand they’ve added a few extra seating options.

An evening at the Request Room is as relaxing or energetic as you care to make it. The lighting is low and the space isn’t large enough for more than a couple dozen people. When the drinks start flowing the conversation gets livelier but the age of the crowd trends higher than most karaoke experiences so you probably won’t be getting into any fisticuffs at 13 Queen.

You couldn’t ask for a friendlier, more talented host than Josh. Quick with a quip or a clever musical flourish, this master of the keys can play nearly anything you throw at him. Perhaps the most exciting aspect of the place is how open your choice of song is. If the internet has the tabs someplace [the musical tablature, a/k/a chords and lyrics], Josh will attempt it for you. If he isn’t familiar with something he may look up the official song and listen for a few seconds to get the rhythm and tempo, then it’s off to the races.

When people are in the mood, the songs can be as simple as “Sweet Caroline” or “Hit Me With Your Best Shot,” just like you’d hear in any American karaoke bar. But there are also nights where a quieter, more esoteric mood takes hold and you’ll find someone singing an album track by Emmylou Harris or an old favorite from Lucinda Williams. This world of possibilities has given me the chance to sing songs I never thought would happen at karaoke, like Britpop hits that never got to America and indie rock tunes that were never a hit in the first place. It’s a real thrill to sing that unknown song you’ve always adored to a supportive crowd of friends old and new.

This brings me to a couple of...well, not negatives, per se, but let’s call them Things You Should Know. The first is that you will occasionally have evenings at the Request Room where you wish somebody would break up the mood with something a bit more rocking. It’s the nature of the beast; piano doesn’t generally lend itself to a Black Sabbath song as much as it does a Jackson Browne or Adele ballad. I recall a recent evening where we were noticing this and when my friend got on the mic she blurted out, “You’re all bumming me out tonight!”

The second thing is knowing where you are in the batting order. There’s a sign-up sheet each night but it’s in the back of the room and isn’t adhered to particularly strictly. There isn’t really a space to have it sit by the piano and Josh isn’t the type of guy to holler out the next name anyway. It goes against the charming atmosphere he’s worked so hard to create. The list is mainly adhered to on the honor system but never completely so someone who really wants their next song may jump on the mic at any moment. Most people don’t care and the rest of us don’t want to be the jerk who tattles on them. It’s a little thing but I can’t deny being a bit frustrated sometimes.

Oh, and by the way: the first time you sing, there’s a good chance you’re going to be terrible. If you’ve never worked with live accompaniment, it takes a few tries to adapt to the process. Do you lead Josh or let him lead you? Is he going to play that instrumental break the same way you’ve heard it on the studio recording or not? Just keep showing up and once you learn the ropes, you’ll be surprised at how well it goes the next time. More so than any other karaoke experience, you’ll get out of the Request Room what you put into it. Sing on, my friends.

A: This question came to me via Twitter on which I admitted that last night I got drunk and talked shit about the Black Crowes. Despite my general dislike of the Robinson brothers’ yowling shenanigans, I do think “Hard to Handle” is a great karaoke jam because in this case the Black Crowes are doing a karaoke jam themselves!

This harkens back to another online karaoke discussion from a few years ago in which someone asked if it was better to perform the obviously superior Stevie Wonder original of “Higher Ground” or to do the ridiculous Red Hot Chili Peppers cover. Most people said Stevie, but I say Chi Peps, and believe me, you will NEVER hear me say that in any other situation. HOWEVER, I argued, it doesn’t matter that the original is so much better than the cover. I don’t enjoy respectful prestige karaoke; I enjoy sloppy, hammy, absurd karaoke, and I think most people feel the same way. Why not get a jump on the sloppy hamminess and pick a cover song that’s already a well-known, sometimes beloved sometimes scoffed at karaoke performance itself?! Other options:

“Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” - No one wants to hear your Bob Dylan impression. Usually no one wants to hear your Axl Rose impression, either, but here it’s a breath of fresh-ish air! As I’ve mentioned before, this song is also a surprisingly effective duet! There are two Axl parts! Check it out!

“Downtown Train” - This is almost the platonic ideal of a cover song being an absurd karaoke performance and honestly, I like Rod Stewart WAY more than I like Tom Waits. Tom Waits should cover “Hot Legs” in his ridiculous rich-hobo-playing-accordion-on-a-broken-carousel style and bring this whole thing full circle.

A: Short answer: this is an amazing choice and clearly you just need new friends.

Long answer: an excellent tune doesn’t always automatically translate to a good karaoke song, as you well know. As a performance choice, the song itself is kind of “meh”; there’s no build up, no drama, and nothing really happens. I would also file “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” under this subcategory, another classic EJ tune that doesn’t really go anywhere.

HOWEVER, does that actually matter?

If you love the song, truly love it, and you love singing it, then that should supersede everything else (including your friends’ reactions). Because I enjoy answering questions with questions, like a truly obnoxious person, I would ask you to look inward, and consider why you are always singing the same song. If you have karaoke friends and are going out fairly regularly, aren’t you trying to impress each other with your recall of one hit wonders from bygone days? No? Just me?

I tend to think that the “go-to” songs are best brought out when you’re in a new situation and need to either impress people or just sing something you feel really comfortable with. So even if this isn’t a showstopper, it seems like it’s fine to keep it in the rotation. I would just caution you to know your audience and prepare yourself for their reaction. If you are looking for alternatives (you probably aren’t), other EJ songs in this vein to consider might be “Levon” or “Someone Saved My Life Tonight”. My personal favorite is “Tiny Dancer” (ideally sung on a bus, a la Almost Famous) but at almost seven minutes long, that is A LOT to ask of everyone involved.

For this week’s answer we welcome back our dear friend/in-house expert/former KJ Michelle Stockman. Take it away, Michelle! A. It's a pretty common occurrence for a new group of singers to come in to karaoke towards the last half of the night with the expectation that they're going to put a slip up and within 3 or 4 songs it'll probably be their turn. They are then disgruntled that they haven't had a turn yet and they've been there for 30 minutes! Karaoke gets busy! And the size of the crowd isn't a good indicator because you never know if there's a large group where only one or two are the singers or every dang person is a singer. And some people who are in for the whole night of karaoke sit for the 3-4 hours karaoke is going on and get to sing twice. That's it. And that's only because they were there promptly at the very beginning of the night.

All that to say are you SURE that it's because they don't like your song? There are a lot of shitty songs out there or popular songs I just happen to hate, but you play by the order. It's the decent thing to do. The only time I've ever said no to someone singing a song is because it's a busy night and they want to sing a 5+ minute song and I tell them to pick something else because it's too busy. But, giving you the benefit of the doubt, let's say you have been there for an hour and a half and it's only 10:30pm and you still haven't sung, but everyone else at your table did. You could try offering an alternate song based on the songs you do see go up. I've seen that happen successfully, though I wasn't the host. Someone changed their song to suit the general mood of songs that night and got to sing.

A: YES! PLEASE DO! Our friend Alli once told me that as a child she thought the lyrics to Peabo Bryson’s “If Ever You’re In My Arms Again” were “Hey, Fay-Fay, You’re In My Arms, Okay?” and you can bet the one time a year I’m brave/drunk enough to break out the Peabo that’s what I’m singing. I also was long confused by the lyrics to the Paul Young gem “Everytime You Go Away”. I thought the song was more of a complaint to a thieving roommate; “Everytime you go away, you take a piece of meat with you.”  STOP STEALING MY HAM, PLEASE.