Karaoke Failures

by Rich Santos

Rich Santos considers himself an expert on music, but totally clueless about dating. It makes perfect sense, therefore, that he’s the dating blogger for Marie Claire. After years of writing what he doesn’t know, he’s branching out to write a little about what he (thinks) he knows: music, comfort food, time-wasting tactics, sports, how to pull off a C average in school, ’80s movies, fishing/pool/bourbon (he wishes). He still makes (speaking of bad dating practices) mix CDs for women he dates. For The Hairpin, he will be posting songs to make mix tapes (sounds cooler than mix CD) that will hopefully draw a laugh, a tear, or both … and maybe help you discover some new music. Stop by, listen, and share your thoughts.

Alcohol numbs pain. That’s why they used it during amputations on Civil War battlefields, and the same rationale holds true when I get drunk around a karaoke machine: I suddenly feel numb to the pain of my own awful voice, and actually start thinking I’m good, which in turn leads to horrible song choices and sad patrons.

“Me and Bobby McGee,” by Janis Joplin
Pearl, Columbia, 1971

The song is actually quite calm until the ending, when Janis kicks it in to high gear. Around 2:06, the song slides into the “la-de-da-de-da” section, and it gets increasingly obnoxious from 2:45 onward. And I can’t keep up with her, so I just scream my head off. This is the only song I’ve ever had the karaoke plug pulled on me. I was literally asked to leave the stage, and banned from singing in that particular bar.

“Wake Me Up,” by WHAM
Make It Big, CBS Records, 1984

One night, I proved that it’s not always best to do as the Romans do when in Rome. I was in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, enjoying the scene at an amazing gay karaoke bar. And as I got drunker, I got bolder. I decided I’d endear my self to the enthusiastic crowd, although I had the misfortune of following a locally renowned transvestite named Amanda (pronounced: “A-Man…Duh”) who had just brought the house down with her version of “Like a Virgin.”

As I approached the stage, there was an uneasy shuffling. While I was kind of at ease, I must have still projected that slightly uncomfortable “straight guy in a gay bar” vibe. All will be well when they see I’m singing George Michael, I thought. And I had yet another ace up my sleeve: I know most of the moves from the video — I even do that part during “we’ll go dancing tomorrow night” with the cutoff yellow gloves (2:20) — and so throughout the song, I did my usual horrible singing, but thought I was redeeming myself with the moves from the video (that ’80s snap-dance bounce!). But it soon became apparent that few people were enjoying it, and not just because I almost broke a window when singing: “I want to hit that HIGHHHH!”

“Dreams,” by the Cranberries
Everybody Else is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?, Island Records, 1993

The high-pitched, glass-like beauty of Dolores O’Riordan’s voice is reason number one I should steer clear of this tune. But things really hit the wall around 1:33, when she launches into her “ya-ya-ya-ya” and breaks it off with a two-tone vocal effect that sounds like an adolescent boy’s voice cracking (in a good way?). Unfortunately, I just sound like a dying cat when I try it. The entire end of the song is full of that cat wail as well.

“Midnight Train to Georgia,” by Gladys Knight and the Pips
Imagination, Buddah Records, 1973

Singing is not as simple as: “they can do it, so I’ll try it.” For instance, I once saw a woman (she was so cool she wore her sunglasses the entire performance in the dark bar) rip this song up on karaoke, so I figured I’d do the same someday. I’ve even learned the classic dance moves of the gents in the video’s background (those guys are so good), but that’s just another source of failure. Apparently, I can’t sing and dance at the same time (unless it’s WHAM), and the last moments of this song also suffer from the “Janis Joplin” effect: yelling the same lyric (“my world”) over and over again.

“All I Really Want,” by Alanis Morissette
Jagged Little Pill, Maverick, Reprise, 1995

The guttural wailing of this song’s pre-chorus sounds like a large prehistoric bird attempting to attract a mate. And the pre-chorus at 1:45 hits new levels of sound, including a moan AND incomprehensible lyrics (with a little bit of the cracking pubescent boy effect, too — that’s so ‘90s). I then get medieval on the karaoke audience around 3:10, by asking them: “here, can you handle this,” referring to a dose of much needed silence. It must be so peaceful, that little moment. When the song kicks back in, the lyrics suggest what the audience may have thought about during the silence, even though it’s more likely anyone who’s seen me sing this spent the moment of silence thinking about how much they dislike me.

“Don’t Look Back In Anger,” by Oasis
What’s The Story Morning Glory?, Creation, 1995

Honestly, I think I can fake Noel Gallagher’s pitches, but every time I do it drunk I contort and destroy the British accent. I’m guilty of making “Her soul slides away” into “her so sloy-ids a-woyyy.” And at 4:20 the melancholy “Don’t look back in ang-ah, I heard ya soyyy” caps the song.

Based on my terrible performances and limited skill set, I’ve come up with a list of karaoke rules for myself. (Keep in mind, these rules differ from performer to performer.)

• Avoid songs with “American Idling.” (American Idling is when a one syllable word is turned into many syllables: For instance, “I” becomes “I-I-I-I-I.” It’s usually accompanied by the singer holding their hand up parallel to the floor and moving it up and down, for some reason.)
• Avoid songs with any ounce of soul.
• Pick one: singer or backup dancer; just don’t try to do both.
• Don’t overdo British accents.
• Stop trying to sing songs that women sing.
• Steer clear of songs with “la” “de” or “da” or moaning, or any mating-call type sound that the real singer somehow pulls off.
• Do not pick songs with furious endings, or with lots of screaming and repeating.

What are your rules for karaoke, and what songs have you seriously messed up and why?

Rich Santos also Tweets at RichRavens.

Photo by R McKown, via Shutterstock