Saturday, July 02, 2005

DJ Fully on Konverting to Karaoke: A Testimony

one short of a threesomeDon't worry there is still only one Steve
They all say the same thing.
They all say they’ll never sing.
They say it’s not something they’d do.
They say they’ll embarrass themselves.


But like a hooch with a skirt hiked higher than Edmund Hillary on Mount Everest, they give it up easy. All it takes is one time, and they never stop.

Karaoke (yes, karaoke) is addicting. Like Niblett on cake, you have to feed the need. It’s a lyrical speed. A narcotic indeed. Like cocaine or weed.

It’s so addictive, you’ll start rhyming…everything!

I was once a naysayer... The first time I ever went to karaoke was about half-a-year ago. I watched white trash run to the stage, as enthusiastic as Pavarotti about to sing Madama Butterfly. They end up sounding like Pavarotti, mouth filled with manicotti.

Like I said…everything!

But as I finally (thankfully) learned, karaoke isn’t all about the singers. Heck, I wouldn’t even consider it half the experience.

It’s who you’re there with.

A word to the wise: most of the singers at karaoke suck…bad. Hoover bad. Battlefield Earth bad. Niblett singing Motownphilly bad. The trick is tuning them out. Laugh at them once, then grab a beer, a friend and a conversation. If you’d like, laugh twice. It’s impossible to laugh thrice. Pay attention again, and the laughter dies like FDR in his wheelchair.

Too soon?

The great performances make the outing worthwhile. The “Georgia on My Minds,” the “Slow Jamz” and the “Stand Ups.” The performances where, for just a split second, you forget that Ray and Twista and Luda aren’t on stage. The performances where you roar for a great note, and the rest of the house roars with you, not because they know the guy or gal on stage, but because they know great music.

And maybe, just maybe, you think you can hit a great note, too. Your friends, done with their beers, continuing their conversations, tell you that you can. The chick in the skirt says you can…that, and that she feels a breeze.

You get the guts to fill out a scrap of paper as intimidating as that damn blue book for the test you didn’t study for. A few minutes later, your name rings through the speakers, and a chill runs down your spine. The next thing you know, a mic is in your hand, and words are flying across the screen.

“You better lose yourself in the music, the moment, you own it, you better never let it go…”

Eminem also said, “I ain’t never seen an ass like that.” He must have seen the skirts at karaoke. It’s the tools and the fools that make you wiggle and giggle that make the experience that much better.


It’s a simple formula: sing, laugh and be liv’n it up, and the crowds that gather ‘round will be giv’n it up. Just so long as honeyz keep on fill’n the cup, the times, they’ll be electric, and that’s what’s up.

Everything! and Amen.

7 Comments:

Blogger KaraokeKing said...

I knew this was a religion, but I am glad to see how truely life changing this all can be.

2:37 AM  
Blogger dudeucankissmyass said...

dude that picture is freakin me out!!!!! cool

4:40 PM  
Blogger ~ meg ~ said...

you guys need rehab :)

4:46 PM  
Blogger SJF_Hoosier said...

It's freakin' me out, too...but you're one to talk ;-)

4:47 PM  
Blogger whitechocolate17 said...

thats trippin' me out like nothing else...one of you is bad enough...why does there have to be two?? hehe jk

4:56 PM  
Blogger SJF_Hoosier said...

King, I hate you with every fiber of my beings.

4:59 PM  
Blogger dantheman said...

nice work, E-mix

12:52 PM  

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