November 2005

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

By Nikki

   Our local pub still looked the same but the tuneless sound emanating from it wasn’t familiar at all.

   A look of uncertainty passed between my friend and I as we pushed open the heavy door and headed straight for the bar.

   With the first shot of Dutch courage planted firmly in our hands, we turned and viewed our strange, and somewhat daunting, new world, the world of Karaoke.

   Love it or hate it, when you’ve got a few drinks inside you, you’ll be desperate to try it. Women and men alike turn from shy inhibited beings into extrovert crooners who fancy themselves as the next Madonna or Robbie Williams.

   Picture the scene. A run down pub with frayed and threadbare seats (in the mandatory green velvet), sports bats and rackets of all kinds fastened to every available space and obscure, framed pictures of portly men walking their faithful basset hounds. Add to this the huge, cuddly teddy bear behind the bar waiting to have his name guessed, before being shipped to the home to the love of a dribbly child, and you’ve got a lot of peoples local drinking establishment.

   It’s all so comforting and familiar yet, somewhere along the way, the British public decided that it wasn’t enough.

   Not content anymore with supping their pints or enthusing about the latest fashion trend, someone decided it was time some sort of humiliating ritual should be brought in.

   Step forward, the Japanese. At the forefront of much new, major technology they gave us…Karaoke (which is Japanese for ‘empty Orchestra’ or possibly even ‘stand up and make a fool of yourself’). Without this little gem, we wouldn’t have the immeasurable pleasure of the melodic tones of Tracy from down the road or Dave who lives next door!

   It’s all such a silly concept really but, for whatever reason, it works. From the moment you’ve chosen your song, to sinking a few more drinks for courage whilst you wait your turn, a bubbly nervous ride starts that gives the inkling of teenage excitement (if you are not fortunate enough to still be of teenage years anyway).

   When your name is finally called, you push your way through the crowd, momentarily forgetting that you are not there to receive a Brit award, and take hold of the microphone.

   In your hands you hold the key to a couple of minutes of pure dreams, with your live audience drunkenly gazing up at you, preparing for the onslaught their ears are about to receive, you can’t fail to please (after all, you’ve done this hundreds of times with a hairbrush).

   As the music starts, your faithful friends will most likely dash to the toilet or find something incredibly interesting at the bottom of their bags. However, you will be more concerned with the fact that you only know the chorus.

   That night when you go home, after you’ve prepared your headache tablets for the morning, you’ll undoubtedly dream of signing record deals and autographs. Enjoy it while you can as you might not view the evening so favourably the next day!

   Thus said, Karaoke is a great night out. It does us stuffy old Brits the world of good to go out and lose our inhibitions for a night.

   In this modern world of mobile phones and laptops it is surprisingly refreshing to have a singsong in your local. It almost harks back to the ‘good ol’ days’ when everyone crowded round the piano (according to my nan). I think we should all give Karaoke a go, leave at home your inhibitions, dignity and the belief you can’t sing!