I Love Rock 'N Roll

Last weekend was one of the more rockin' weekends I've had in a while. Literally. It was rock-tastic. Three reasons why:

Reunion by Way of Wii

Prisoner's Dilemma was never a great band, but we were entertaining. What we lacked in skill we made up for in moxy, belting out songs about Wal-Mart, a homocidial Pac-Man, the Jabberwocky, and how not getting called back was kind of like the end of the world. In addition to that, we took our performances as opportunities to dress up in garish clothing. The singer described her looks as "Catholic school-girl in trouble," the keyboardist (that would be Joseph Barker) often wore a traditional Afghan outfit, complete with the hat, and I had this really awful tan, 70s-style, thigh-length leather coat that I wore with a skinny tie and oftentimes huge sideburns. We put on a show, to say the least.

We cheaply cut a hastily-recorded album, got recognized by a few people, and had tons of fun playing bad music. Inevitably, though, we drifted apart. Around my senior year of college, Prisoner's Dilemma faded away, we graduated, and it was done.

Last weekend, though, we were in the same room at the same time for the first time in years at a party in Eugene. It's a cliche to say so, but it really did feel like no time had passed. Well, except for the fact that the singer was married, I'd been in another country, and the keyboardist now lives in California. Other than that, it was like no time had passed.

A reunion was in order. A reunion that took place through the magic of Guitar Hero. We jumped about, danced like idiots, and had an awesome time of it. Im unashamed to say that I got pretty into it, and strummed the hell out of my plastic guitar Wii controller. I'm looking at my actual guitar now, a few feet away from me. I'm thinking that it's been a bit too long...

Jamming

Meanwhile, down in Eugene, I visited my brother. He's a very musically talented guy, who happens to have a drum set in his living room. I'd never gotten behind one before, asked if I could, and he said "sure." He taught me a basic beat, and I just went from there.

I was able to pound out an uncomplicated rhythm fairly well, and definitely understood the appeal of drumming. It's satisfying. Viscerally satisfying. You're making music by beating the shit out of things and banging on metal. I could imagine myself getting into it.

American Karaoke

"Why would you do that to yourself?" It was a good question. Why on earth would I select It's the End of the World As We Know It to sing at karaoke. Why? Moreso, why would I decided to sing it in front of a bar full of people, where I was probably going to fuck up the superfast lyrics? Why would I subject myself to such performative masochims?

I sang karaoke quite a bit in Japan, and got very, very used to belting out songs like an idiot. I was fond of obnoxious stuff like Welcome to the Jungle and Lady Marmalade, songs that lend themselves to lots of theatrical flourish and whatnot. With songs like that no one really expects you to sing them well. Enthusiasm is the key, and more often than not you've got people singing along with you.

But that was in Japan, and karaoke there is in a cozy little room where you sing and drink with your friends. The only one who's going to see your Axl Rose impersonation is people whom you're on good terms with, so there's a lot more leeway to let loose. Before Sunday, I'd never stood up in front of a bar, taken a microphone, and sang in front of a ton of strangers. Moreover, some of the people there seemed to be taking it pretty seriously. This older woman had this whole dance routine that she did along with the Tina Turner version of Proud Mary, and someone actually sang Sarah McLaughlin's Angel, a song I've never cared for and is in no way ironic or rockin'.

My heart was making my ribcage aware of it's presence. When my name was called, I downed the rest of my gin and tonic in a single gulp.

Walking up to the microphone, I remembered the first time I ever played guitar in front of other people back in college. The lights were especially bright, and I couldn't actually see the audience. This felt sort of like that. I ended up just looking at the lyrics screen, which was mostly superfluous as I already knew the lyrics to Burning Down the House fairly well.

And, I wasn't very good. I got some polite applause, but hardly a spectacular performance.

I didn't sing for a while, and continued chatting with and drinking with people, wondering what I would do next. But, there were two singers in particular who emboldened me: One was a random, geeky-looking girl who sang Camel Toe. She seemed to get a weird reaction from the bar, but I thought it was especially awesome to see someone loudly singing a novelty song about embarrassing female fashion incidents. The other particularly inspiring singer was a friend of mine who sang Strokin'. It was absolutely hilarious, seeing some dude in a biker jacket loudly asking the bar about their sexual schedules.

This was the sort of silliness and rockin' enthusiasm that I was used to. This was music with irony, humor, and a certain "Woo-Hoo!" quality. It was the kind of stuff that tolerated a certain lack of talent in exchange for performative ability. So, I put in the song that I'd always wanted to sing in Japan but never could: It's the End of the World as We Know It. I'd always wanted a shot at it's lyrics, and it maintains a geeky place in my heart, as it was supposedly inspired by a debate tournament. Karaoke places in Japan always had What's the Frequency, Kenneth? but no End of the World. Now, I had my opportunity.

I fucked up the lyrics. I dropped a few lines. But, it went well. I had an awesome time up there, jumping up and down kicking my legs up and screaming about Lenny Bruce, Leonoid Brezhnev, snakes and aeroplanes. I roped in a friend to sing with me, and it was awesome. Enthusiasm and showman ship trumped natural talent, and all was nifty.

Good times. Definitely doing the karaoke thing again State-side. I'm tempted to try Ice, Ice, Baby, just as an exercise in awfulness. Or something by Def Leppard. We'll see.