Rules of Re-Entry #1: Karaoke Isn't About You
I am choosing to be hopeful about the recent news. With Johnson & Johnson in the mix, with warmer weather starting to tentatively peek in from around the corner, and with more people I know actually getting vaccinated, I am choosing to let myself hope. At least a little bit.
So in preparation for eventually rejoining the masses in whatever society looks like post-pandemic, I've created what I hope will be a recurring new segment: Rules of Re-Entry.
In this segment, we'll be revisiting some staples of non-quarantine life to remind ourselves of social Do's and Don'ts in the hope that we don't act like huge drunken babies when we all eventually are allowed to be around each other again. And for those of us who were never all that smooth to begin with, maybe this can serve as a fresh start into polite company.
So without further ado, our inaugural topic is:
Rules of Re-Entry #1:
Karaoke Isn't About You
When Covid restrictions are finally lifted, what is the most efficient way to experience everything we haven't had for the past year?
What is an activity that requires close proximity (sometimes in a private room), a group of more than 10 people, and allows you to yell, scream, sing, and spit as much as your little heart desires?
Karaoke.
But karaoke was already one of the most complex and vulnerable social interactions before the pandemic. How do you choose a song? What happens if you can't sing? Why, god, why did you choose to be in the same room as a drunk bachelor party full of tall strangers, who are wearing only overalls, and only want to sing "Yeah!" by Usher super off-key? (A real experience I had.)
Do not fret, Dear Reader. As always, I have you covered. Below are the rules of karaoke.
Rule #1: Karaoke isn't about you. It's about the room.
I know you sound great on that Scissor Sisters track. I have heard you absolutely slay while singing The Decemberists. Lord knows I've weeped at your rendition of Yebba's "My Mind."
But I am going to have to politely ask you to take your dulcet tones and leave them at home. Because karaoke isn't about you, it's about the room.
As much as karaoke resembles a talent show act, it's not. As much as karaoke resembles a concert, it's not. People go to karaoke to sing and sing along with others. It's a call and response. It's active audience participation.
That means picking songs that are best for the room. Think about how you'd react if someone decided to sing a Weezer B-Side. In public?!?
Your song choice needs to fit the following criteria for the sake of the room:
Are more than 5 people going to instinctively scream in delight when they see the title card or hear the first few notes?
Is there a part—even if it's nonsense lyrics—that everyone can sing along to? (ex. the "Ba ba ba's" in "Sweet Caroline")
Even better, is there a part that everyone knows all the words to? (ex. the chorus of "Toxic" by Britney Spears)
Even even better, is there a part you can scream-sing the words to? (ex. Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know")
Is it not a ballad? (More on this later)
I love you, but this isn't about you. Karaoke is a team sport, and that means compromise.
Rule #2: Songs must be under four minutes.
"Bohemian Rhapsody" meets all the criteria above for a room-pleaser. But by the "Galileo's" it legally counts as entrapment.
Get in, get out, let someone else sing. It's the "two sips at the water fountain" rule from elementary school.
(Side note, how absolutely disgusting and dirty does a water fountain seem now??? Yuck, ew, blech. Too many mouths.)
Rule #3: Know more lyrics than just the chorus.
Maybe you've had a few drinks. Maybe you're feeling confident. And maybe you're absolutely sure "Mr. Jones and Me" by Counting Crows can't be that hard to sing.
From experience, it is. All anyone knows is the "Mister JOOOOONES and meeee." That's all I knew. I'm convinced even Counting Crows doesn't know how it goes. Don't make the same mistakes I did.
Rule #4: No ballads.
No ballads! No one wants a ballad! People don't leave their homes to have a fun evening only to be unexpectedly assaulted by Adele's "Someone Like You" and the memories that it churns up. That's emotional violence. I didn't give you permission to do that to my mind. If I wanted to do a deep dive into all the choices that have led me to where I am today, I would have stayed home on my couch.
Keep it breezy, sing something fun.
Rule #4a: ...Unless you are absolutely going to bring the house down.
Look, if you can sing "It's All Coming Back to Me" in the style of Celine Dion and bring the house down, you get a pass.
Rule #5: No Beatles, no musicals.
I don't make the rules.
(Well, I make the rules, but not this one.)
I don't know why, it just feels like a "Do it on your own time" situation.
Rule #6: It isn't about you! It's about the room!
Just a reminder. See Rule #1.
I know this is a lot to take in, especially when you haven't thought about stepping up to the mic in months. But I promise, we will all be better for remembering.