MY URBAN KVETCH

Pigs [Heart] Karaoke

And this, my friends, is why there's a "Karaoke Kraziness" category on this blog...

We've all heard of the phrase "when pigs fly." But apparently, according to this Bangkok-area farmer, it's not about flying--it's all about the music, man. His pigs really enjoy his musical karaoke stylings:

According to the Thaisnews service, Kamsing Chaiwongchan, a 41-year-old villager of Khok Samran in Sakon Nakhon’s Wanorn Niwas District, said music makes his pigs feel relieved. They eat a lot, grow fast and produce a lot of pigslet.

I'm gonna guess that's supposed to be "piglets." And based on the lots of piglets being produced, I'm guessing the music that Kamsing, who apparently "kan sing," does sing is Barry White. Or Marvin Gaye. Or something like that. So, karaoke makes pigs amorous. Lovely.

Huh?

Via the JTA:

Moscow Limmud, a one-day Jewish learning conference based on a similar event in London (which was held in NY over Martin Luther King Day), announced that "Sessions will focus on topics ranging from Jewish philosophy to Holocaust-related issues to Jewish karaoke."

I'm not exactly sure what Jewish karaoke is. Does it mean "two Jews, three interpretations of 'I Will Survive'?" Or does it mean, "Better get out of the way, because we're all singing 'Hinei Mah Tov'"?

Perhaps our Moscow correspondents will check in on this one.

Karaoke Craziness: LA Edition

After emceeing the Jewbilation concert on the Sunday night of the JTB2 conference weekend, I realized that that had been my first time at the mic in a long time...and that 90 percent of the previous times had been for karaoke. But Sunday night, I didn't sing. And my attempts at spoken word? Well, they could have used some work, I'll admit. What I needed was to get back to my karaoke roots.

Since one of my NYC karaoke buddies moved to LA, and another one of my LA pals had recently discovered a penchant for that particular mode of self-expression, we all knew what we had to do. So off to the Brass Monkey we went, where every night is karaoke night, no one but you will sing for the first hour and most of the drink names have either "monkey" or "banana" in it (People's Exhibit A).

My first song was "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." Things went well. I sat down again and someone else sang some song that had him winking at me during his performance...then after, he approached" "Damn, girl...why you have to look so good? I got a pacemaker, you know..." I chuckled good-naturedly and he kept walking.

Later saw renditions of "Sweet Child of Mine," on which I sang with Annabel Lee, and then I busted out Young MC's "Bust a Move." I figure it's always entertaining when the whitest Jewish chick around tries to bust the fastest pre-Eminem, slightly lecherous rhymes 80s pop-rap style. (Boy, I'm pretty sure my parents have NO idea what that last paragraph meant.) Anyway, on conclusion, my "pacemaker" friend approached again:

PACEMAKER: Where'd you learn to do that? I'm a black Jew and I can't do that!
ESTHER: [Laughs good-naturedly]
PACEMAKER: [suddenly shouting] Gimme that hair! [Grabs ESTHER's head in both his hands, and plants a big wet kiss on her right temple.]

By that point, other people were singing...but I did have time for one more: "Criminal" was good, if a little dark to end on--I just hope that with all those proclamations of bad behavior in the song, there weren't any lawyers in the audience. But it was late, and I had to drive (yes, DRIVE) home, so we called it a night. So I grabbed Pacemaker and we left.

Um, yes. Of course that last sentence was a joke...jeez.

And sorry for not listing all of AL's and Joel's songs, but my memory's shot. Now, I'm off to do--oh, crap. I don't remember.

Karaoke Violence...

Karaoke is famous for being bad. Notorious, actually. Most people suck, it's true, and should not consider auditioning for American Idol. (Do not make me mention William Hung. Dangnabit.)

But the fact remains, karaoke draws passionate people. It's a place for the hero worship of music industry celebrities and the trying on of myriad personalities, faces and personas we'd never have a chance to experience in real life. For most of us, it's just a one-song thing, a flirtation with a lifestyle other than our own. But karaoke engenders real passion that can lead to confusion, violence and death.

In London, a guy who was high on LSD and Ecstasy bashed a woman to death with an iron baseball bat, put her in the trunk of his car, and drove the car off a bridge into a river. Sound familiar? It's the plot of the video, Stan, the Eminem song that samples a Dido song and details the actions of a crazed Eminem fan. The incident transpired after the victim-to-be had listened to the murderer-to-be perform the song at a karaoke bar. (The murderer was sentenced to life in prison.)

What's the lesson? Well, first of all, maybe LSD and Ecstasy aren't a great combination. But perhaps it's also good to keep in mind how passionate people can get about their music even when they're sober; you never know who you're dealing with on the other end of the microphone.

[The...More...You...Know...]

Enraged Brit Pummels Out-of-Tune Karaoke Singers

Ladies and gentlemen, the reason we have a "Karaoke Kraziness" category is stories like this one:

An enraged Brit spent 24 hours in jail and was fined 60 quid for terminating a Bulgarian karaoke with his fists - a small price to pay for bringing to an end a tuneless rendition of Queen's We are the Champions belted out by a couple of melodicidal locals.

Having assaulted the two men responsible for the outrage, 40-year-old Kevin Tester of Eastbourne proceeded to trash the Techhouse karaoke restaurant in the Black Sea holiday resort of Sunny Beach. He later told police he had been provoked by the "bad singing" and "bad English", Ananova reports.

First of all, an "enraged Brit"? What would that look like? (Had to play to national stereotypes, sorry. It's over now.) I keep picturing Anthony Stewart Head as Giles taking off his glasses, and cleaning them, and looking rather constipated at the tones entering his ears. But that's just me.

If he got this bent out of shape over "We Are the Champions" (not an easy song to sing, by the way), we should all be thankful it wasn't "Paradise By the Dashboard Light."

I'm sympathetic. There have been cases, both of "bad singing" and certainly of "bad English," that have fueled an urge that could be described as slightly violent. But that's in  America. This happened in Bulgaria--why should he expect Bulgarians to speak perfect English? When I was in Israel, at a karaoke bar in Tel Aviv somewhere, and people sang "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" in Israeli-accented English, I didn't go ballistic. In fact, I thought it was kind of cute.

I guess I'm pretty tolerant, as karaoke goes. I recognize it's an opportunity for the rest of us, the ones who aren't American Idol-worthy, to have our three minutes on stage, regardless of our talent or mastery of English. The first time I did karaoke had a huge impact on me, as some of you know. Without it, I would never have had the guts to do improv, and if I hadn't taken improv classes, my life would be very different today. In fact, I'd probably be a librarian and you wouldn't even be reading this.

So please, citizens of the world...allow your fellow karaoke enthusiasts to slaughter whatever song they wish to execute. If you hate their rendition of your favorite song, pick that moment to use the facilities, or order another drink, or check your voice mail. But let them have their moment. And for Jebus's sake, don't pummel them.

Thank you.

Naked Karaoke Winners Proclaimed

And the winner, for best karaoke song rendered while naked and behind a screen, goes to Ray and Marie LeBrun, for their rendition of Bob Seger's "Fire Down Below."

Why'd they win? For their pioneering spirit. For their bravery. For their willingness to go all the way.

And because they were the only ones.

Earlier in the evening, the assembled crowds weren't sure that anyone at all would dare to bare both souls and bodies through song:

There better be nude singing," said Rick Smolicz, a New Britain resident who arrived at 5 p.m. to get a seat. "I spent $60 on liquor so far, and if there is no one singing naked, I'm going to be talking to someone about this bill."

As word spread among those who waited for the show to begin that any naked singing would be done behind a privacy screen, most agreed that the event was still "worth it.""I mean, do you see anyone in here you would really want to see naked and singing?" Chuck Beers said as he surveyed the room. "The curtain will probably be a blessing."

Beers is absolutely right. I've been to karaoke on the Upper East Side, and even that crowd isn't buffworthy. (Speaking of Buff, as Buffy might have said: "Beers...foamy, good.")

Another note? "Chuck Beers" is an imperative sentence.

"Oh, it was fun," said Marie LeBrun, who added that neither she nor her husband planned to tell their three children about the performance.

I would say their secret's out now. If asked to explain their behavior to their three children, I would advise the LeBruns to go with: "We were totally drunk, and did something that we regret--see? Alcohol is BAD."

Karaoke--Clothes and Talent Optional

At last--karaoke singers can bare their souls without the pesky restrictions of clothing.

BERLIN, Conn. Feb 9, 2005 — After a yearlong fight with the town, a bar is going ahead with a plan to have patrons belt out ballads in the buff. On Saturday night, the Berlin Station Cafe is scheduled to hold its controversial "Naked Karaoke" event.

Which begs the question...which songs are the best ones to be rendered au naturel?

My list:

1) See Me, Hear Me, Touch Me, Feel Me--because it's always helpful for nude singers to issue instructions to their audiences.
2) Paradise by the Dashboard Light--because a classic duet about teenage sex (which contains baseball commentary) becomes so much more seminal when the singers are nekkid.
3) The Stroke--because Billy Squier's ode is that much more poignant when accompanied by a visual.
4) Do You Love Me?--oops, no need to ask: I can see for myself.
5) Dress You Up (in My Love)--this Madonnesther song has love-as-clothing imagery, as well as multiple warblings of "from your head down to your toes" that potentially leads to suggestive choreography.
6) Rumpshaker/Baby Got Back/Bootylicious/The Humpty Dance--no explanations necessary.

More songs to be added to the list as I consider this today, and as my readers write in with their own...

AN OPEN LETTER TO NIC CAGE

Dear Nicolas Cage,

I was perusing my morning copy of New Kerala when I saw the news item about your enjoyment for karaoke. Apparently, one night of karaoke carousing led you to lose your voice on the set of National Treasure and you had to dub your lines in later...

Well, I challenge you to a karaoke duel...The Urban Kvetch vs. you, Indiana Clones.

Each of us picks a classic song and renders it Sex Pistols-style. She (or he) who rocks the loudest, wins. You may have the Coppola family in your court, but I've got the yeshiva education that breeds punk rebellion. I've rendered everyone from Guns and Roses to the Mamas and the Papas. Forget your playing twins in Adaptation. "Sweet Child O'Mine" to "Dream a Little Dream"? Now that's range, baby.

The stakes? A role in your next movie. Of course, you already have a role in your next movie, so why don't you just give me the prize now, and we can call it even. No need for you to be "beaten by a girl." Save yourself the embarrassment. In fact, since I'm unagented, have your agent call me with an offer of representation AND a script, and you can get credit for "discovering" me. Everybody wins.

As Gwen Stefani recently asked me, "Whatchu Waitin' 4"?

Most sincerely yours,

Esther

Kvetcher of Urbs /Queen of Karaoke

Movie-oke

First, music. Now movies.

In Vancouver (that's British Columbia to you), now you can "say along" with your favorite movie scenes. They're calling it movie karaoke, which doesn't mean anything in Japanese, because as we all know, karaoke means "open orchestra."

Still, this sounds pretty funny...

When organizing the first movie karaoke evening, Myara worried that people might be too shy to participate, but those fears were unfounded as wannabe thespians lined up to show off their acting skills. A two-man comedy troupe called Bob Loblaw, which will open Sunday's show, opened the July event with the piano scene from the movie Big, during which Tom Hanks plays a large floor piano by dancing along the keys.

Other highlights included one brave woman reenacting the now famous Meg Ryan fake orgasm scene from When Harry Met Sally, and a group of about 10 people who ran in slow motion across the stage, while the famous running scene from Chariots of Fire played out behind them.

I'd have to choose some early (Greenwald, oops, I mean) Ringwald, but I'd need a partner for most of those scenes, and I'm not real good at sharing stage time. Perhaps I would attempt Jack Nicholson's "You Can't Handle the Truth" monologue, or Alec Baldwin's "You Think I Have a God Complex" monologue from Malice. Pretty much any segment of WHMS would work too. Or any scene from the Princess Bride ("I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you..." "Have fun storming the castle!" "I will go up to the six-fingered man and say...") My inner comedian wants to recreate the hilarity of Soapdish or any of Christopher Guest's films. And although the drama queen in me is toying with the ending of The Wizard of Oz or any of the high drama Scarlett scenes from GWTW, I could also be tempted to interpret Paul Giamatti's soon-to-be classic monologue from Sideways, which I saw yesterday, where he brilliantly expounds on the qualities that make the pinot noir grape his favorite.

Hey you, Urban Kvetch readers...which movie scene would you reenact?