Thank you Asia.
Thank you for Chinese food, sushi, karate, Chow Yung Fat, plastic and the image of the Geisha girl.
But most of all, thank you for Karaoke.
As a woman I can say with absolute certainty that I love getting drunk, throwing all inhibitions to the wind and singing some effing Pat Benatar on stage at full blast. Now, that is a perfect evening. You get a few drinks in me and I magically become Whitney Houston. No shit. I’m that good. I’ll prove it.
The ladies love Karaoke. If a woman doesn’t actually enjoy the act of singing on stage in front of a bar, she will most certainly sit there and judge women that do sing (#2 Judgment).
Women adore contests. Especially contests that involve showcasing their ‘talents’. Whether we are watching other chicks sing or we are actually doing the singing ourselves, we are secretly keeping a score card in our heads.
- Was she good?
- Was she better than me?
- Okay, she sucked.
- Bad shoes.
- Fatty or hottie?
- What drink am I on?
- I lost my phone…
Karaoke is the great female talent contest. If you can sing, you’ll be loved. If you can’t, your friends will hug you and someone will tell you that you looked like you had fun out there. If you get really drunk with your friends, all of you can get up there and rap “Baby Got Back” or “Gangsta’s Paradise.” Everyone loves a group song.
All in all, everyone wins at the end of the night. Everyone had fun, everyone bought drinks, everyone is tipsy. Cab drivers even win as you realize you need a nice terrifying ride home because walking straight becomes a problem after too much whiskey. Therefore driving straight might be even more difficult. Enter the cab driver. One cab ride and you’ll never get that drunk again.
(Disclaimer: I use the word terrifying to describe any ride in a cab. Why? Have you ridden on I-285 with an African cabbie? Yep. Terrifying.)
Back to Karaoke:
Let’s put Karaoke in perspective, shall we? Think about it. Why in the Hell is American Idol so popular?
A simple formula: Women + Karaoke = Moneymaker-TV-Ratings-Goodness.
That’s all AI is anyway. Glorified Karaoke. The only difference between that seedy bar you visit on Saturday nights and American Idol happens to be a live band and Paula Abdul. Just remember–you have a glowing aura inside of you. Shine on, shine on.
Can you imagine coming up with American Idol? I mean, a few British Douchebags got together over a cup of tea and some scones and were like…
“There’s some money to be made off of this Karaoke business. Let’s put people that think they can sing on TV, let them sing to their favorite tunes and then tear them up with one wicked judge, one ethnic judge and one nice female judge. The woman shall be an ex-popstar with a drinking problem.” Gold.
Enter Simon Cowell. Enter Randy Jackson. Enter Paula Abdul.
We have Karaoke–and, in essence Asia– to thank for AI glory. Thank you again Asia.
There exist, in many circles, certain preferred songs that one should sing when trying out karaoke. Certain songs must be sung. Certain songs must be resisted. The rules are pretty similar to those often quoted on American Idol. (AKA: If the song is “Too big” for you, stay away)
Songs to be sung in the bar:
- I Will Survive
- Black Velvet
- Anything Country will suffice
- Any Cheesy Rap (AKA Vanilla Ice, Coolio, etc)
- Love is a Battlefield
There are certainly more, but if you decide to sing, rock something from this list. The no-nos are as follows:
- ANYTHING Whitney Houston. Give it up.
- If you are white– stick with country or rock. No R&B please. Please.
- ANYTHING Mariah Carey. Give it up.
- Anything serious. Why so serious?
- Barry Manilow. Ew.
Again, more to list–yet I have limited time to write and you have limited time to read. Thus, the brevity.
Ladies, you may now go forth and participate freely in the beauty of Karaoke. Have fun, break hearts and make a scene. Don’t feel bad for the men in the room either– they may not admit it, but they do honestly love Karaoke too. Pump your boy full of drinks and tell him to sing some Poison with his buddy. Nothing gets the best-friend-man-love going like a good version of Every Rose Has It’s Thorn.