Sunday, May 24, 2009

The Karaoke Crowd

We went out for a quiet drink. But the karaoke crowd took over the pub.

A middle aged man set up his computer, speakers and microphones. He played snippets of songs. And in between he sang a few and invited his following to come and have a go.

Karaoke deejays have people following them from pub to pub. These people are not talented enough to win through the early rounds of Britain's Got Talent. But in their heads they're David Gray or Neil Diamond or the girls from ABBA. In their stupid self-centred heads.

They take it seriously. They feel the anticipation as they mentally prepare for their next time on stage. Because they do have several chances each to show off as the evening progresses. Their fellow karaoke creeps cheer them on, applaud them off. The deejay pretends he's reading out the next singer's name as if he doesn't know him (19 times out of 20 the singer is male). He does know him, of course. They're all part of the same strange family.

I imagined them all getting together for a karaoke family funeral. Then, as if by magic, some dickhead started up Robbie Williams' Angels. I could see the coffin and the tears as the karaoke family swayed in their seats, arms aloft, as the young singer belted out an off-key version of that death classic. It's exactly the send-off Neil Diamond/Elvis Presley/Gene Pitney/Roy Orbison would have wanted. And his manner of death, a massive coronary on the karaoke stage was exactly how he would have wanted to go.

Yes, we did get Babylon and Wonderwall and Amarillo and 500 Miles. It was so fucking predictable. The twats had absolutely no imagination. At least the bloke who looked like Ian Curtis could have done She's Lost Control, really lost control and fucked up his dad's laptop.


  1. They're OK Geoff.
    I feel jealous.
    I often wish I could shed my inhibitions and really enjoy making a fool of myself instead of being a tightarsed middle class Guardian reader.

  2. But they were really serious about it. With a little bit of racism mixed in by the kid doing the reggae songs. And some stupid girl nearly had my eye out kicking her legs out like some fucking mad horse. "Rod Stoowart!" she squealed as some wanker launched into Handbags and Gladrags. They weren't even drinking that much so it wasn't as if they were having some kind of debauched fun, it was all so bloody obvious and tame and "reality tv" shite. It was possibly the worst night out I've ever had and this is supposed to be the quiet pub in the area.

  3. Sounds positively kakaoke if you ask me. Unfortunately all these shit shows like Britain's Really Untalented make people think that anyone can do it anywhere any time any place. Wrong. Deluded. Stupid. And often tone deaf. Oooh...did you say Tone Loc?

  4. Instead of sitting there snarling and fuming, Geoff, you should have stood up, marched over, grabbed the mike and delivered unto them the most beautiful version of "Wind beneath my Wings" they had ever heard and they would all be sitting back, gobsmacked and slack jawed like Amanda Holden.

    That's what I would have done.

  5. Romo - They don't realise there are sensitive souls like me in this world who are deeply offended by their crassness. We got some nasty looks as we left, probably because I'd earlier said "For crying out loud!" as I returned from the bar during Babylon.

    Rog - Excellent idea. And I do so love that song. Amanda knows talent when she sees it, doesn't she? She certainly saw it in Les Dennis.

  6. This is proof of why it's better to stay at home.

    That and the fact that my bathroom (or whatever you call it there) is clean.

    And it doesn't cost as much for a pint in the long run.

    Need I go on?

  7. It is better to stay at home. You don't have to piss next to a big lump of a man and the beer's usually better at home, too.

  8. Erm... just out of mild curiosity, where is this pub....? Not that I want to visit it or anything...

  9. It's the Tra*eller's Re*t in Be*leyh*ath.

  10. A-HA! This is exactly what Milton was trying to warn us about..that unbridled pride has led mankind to the nadir of our existence..the Karaoke Bar!! Ghastly!

    btw..does the Queen's BBC Proper allow for the mangling of this Japanese term to be spoken, out loud, as it is the Americas...

    I shudder.

  11. I thought carry okey was the only way to say it, geezer.