Ramblings on libraries and life upon the wicked stage

Firstly, I do apologise for the length of yesterday’s post, particularly as it didn’t really have a point.  Ah well.  Shorter today, though whether it has a point I don’t know.  A confession.

I’ve never done karaoke.

And I don’t particularly intend to.  The very idea fills me with horror, which is really rather strange.  I sing to myself in the shower, in the office, walking down the street and probably in my sleep.  I sing in concerts, sometimes solo.  I once performed a set of songs a cappella at an open mic night.  And I sing and dance in front of hundreds of people from time to time.  So why don’t I want to do karaoke? 

I just don’t think it’s for me.

Firstly, I can’t imagine that many karaoke organisers have songs in their machines that I would actually want to sing.  Pop doesn’t really suit my voice, and rock even less so.  Can you do karaoke to songs from musicals or big band standards?  Maybe, but most people would probably rather hear a bit of Abba, Oasis, the Beatles, Queen or the latest boy band.  I like some of those songs, but have no burning desire to perform them.

Secondly, performing is not something that comes easily with karaoke, as there’s little room for interpretation.  Any decent accompanist will go with the singer, speeding up or holding back as appropriate to the way the song is being sung, but a machine carries on at the speed and volume that someone decided is right.  I never sing the same song exactly the same way twice, so it seems unlikely that I’d want to sing it the way that the karaoke machine wants me to sing it.

And finally, it all seems so corny.  I have sometimes enjoyed watching people perform karaoke, but I’d just feel completely wrong, and would certainly blush to a disturbing shade as I watched the words change colour.  It’s probably a snobbish thing, but the very idea of singing karaoke is just embarrassing – and this from someone who skipped around in sock suspenders singing a silly ditty for a week in March!  Nerves are always a part of my singing experience, so I have no idea to add cringe-worthiness or embarrassment to the mix.

Perhaps the oddest thing about this is that when I’m alone I do, to all intents and purposes, do a spot of karaoke.  Various books of sheet music come with backing CDs with piano accompaniment, and this is very useful for learning a song, though also restrictive in terms of tempo and dynamics again.  In my living room, this is fine (and to be honest, I’d quite like to have a go on the SingStar game that various people rave about), but take the same track into a smoky pub with a dodgy compere and the chance to win a small prize, and the useful tool becomes anathema.  Isn’t that strange?