Oh wow. It’s that time of year again.
The time of year when the winners of karaoke at Little Miss Whiskey’s and the winners of karaoke at Sticky Rice meet to battle for the right to call themselves…the champions of the world!
OK, not the world, but H Street! Not H Street per se, but the champions of Rock and Roll Hotel, where the match was held. Really just the champion of Rock and Roll Hotel Thursday night at 11pm. Which is pretty good.
So I’m not someone for whom roke is a verb. But I know it is one because Paul Rudd told me so. Perhaps it takes a certain kind of person to really get into it. Maybe you have to feel religious about Glee.
Karaoke championships are more complicated than you would think. Competitors must choose their songs wisely–crowd control is key. If you can get people to sing along with you, you are set.
But even if you sing like Mariah Carey’s voice coach and no one feels what you’re singing, it’ll be cold. Think crowd surfing and being dropped.
My favorites were Man in the Mirror, Fist City, and Let Me Clear My Throat. Some performances were painful, due mainly to the no audience participation factor, but mostly I felt out of my element–not really enjoying the performances, not because they were awful, but because it’s just not my thing.
Sorry Paul Rudd. You crazy.
If you want to partake in this craziness, get yourself on down to Little Miss Whiskey’s for Kostume Karaoke on the first and third Wednesdays of every month. Or try Sticky Rice on Tuesdays for all night karaoke. Nothing says performing like dancing on a table while full of PBR and tots.