Live Band, $2 Drafts and the Opportunity To Pretend To Be A Rock God
Have you heard of “X-Treme Live Band Karaoke”? In this variation, you pick out songs from the provided binder and are backed by a live band when you go up to perform them. We went on the recommendation of one of Mr. Scoop’s radio compadres. He knew the band.
My feelings on karaoke are not a secret to those who know me. I enjoy it immensely, like the big dork that I am. I will happily sing at the top of my lungs sitting home alone for no good reason at all. Get me out in public with a couple of beers in me and I find getting up on a stage in front of others very addictive. It’s a nice adrenaline rush that mixes well with a beer buzz. Like a speedball, but without the unfortunate overdosing in a cheap hotel room with a hooker. However, the idea of trying to keep up with a live band terrified me. Sure the words of the songs were in a book at the front, but there’d be no helpful teleprompter to light up the words and jog my beer addled mind when to come in on a verse.
Compounding my fears was the absence of songs that I thought I could handle. Some awful hosebeast Cher wannabe had already taken No Doubt’s “Just A Girl”. It’s poor karaoke etiquette to perform a song after someone else had already done it. I’ve watched karaoke divas get into slapfights and hair pulling over this in the restroom. Let’s just say that the San Diego/La Jolla karaoke scene is more competitive than Boston’s. However, I secretly suspected that the Cher hosebeast was a man. A high strung man with 3 inch red acrylic tips, 4 inch Jimmy Choo knock-offs and 5 other inches he’d rather not talk about because he’s Irish. So, I kept looking. Lots of Guns and Roses, but I don’t really have Axel’s crab dance down. The only Pat Benatar to be found was “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”, when I’m really more of a “Love Is A Battlefield” kinda girl. No Heart at all. No Irene Cara. No Lita Ford.
The best choice for a good karaoke song is one that you can perform even when under the spell of the most vicious blackout. If you go up too drunk to remember the words, the audience will be entertained for about one verse. Then they’ll throw beer bottles at you like you’re The Blues Brothers in a country and western bar without the benefit of chicken wire. I settled on K’s Choice – “Not An Addict”. I recalled that I owned the CD and had even listened to it a few times in 1997. Then I spent the remaining time before they called me to go up trying to remember the words and tune beyond the chorus. Mr. Scoop helpfully bought more beer and told me to stop worrying.
As it turned out, I did just fine. I couldn’t really hear myself, which was a little disconcerting, but nobody threw anything at me and I got a lot of very nice compliments after. That was pretty cool. So, of course, I wanted to go up again immediately. Because I am an addict.
In fact, I’m on enforced sobriety tonight. Up the street from me is the local sports bar’s karaoke night and Mr. Scoop is not here to chaperone me tonight. I could get drunk enough to stagger up there solo. I know; I’ve seen me do it.