3 posts tagged “karaoke”
ALEXANDRIA February 18 -- The world of atrocious karaoke has a new queen today. Behind a curdling rendition of Phil Collins' "Sussudio," Emma Peel cruised to a landslide victory in the Seventh Annual Karaoke to the Death VII, becoming the first-ever woman to hold bad singing's highest honor.
In the mode of Jackie Robinson or Billy Jean King before her, Peel didn't just break KttD's longstanding gender barrier -- she shattered it -- winning by the second-highest margin of votes ever tallied in the contest's storied history.
"Susan B. Anthony was a ninny," the ever-modest Peel said following her win. "I hope women the world over recognize just what I've done for them here today. The all-male KttD hegemony is dead. Long live the queen!"
Peel's historic performance helped to salvage a KttD that witnessed weak offerings by usually reliable competitors and was almost irretrievably marred by a personnel scandal. Still, when the cigarette smoke had cleared, and the last drunken townie had shambled off, his knuckles scraping along the frosty concrete, it was clear that Peel's putrescent performance had transcended all challenges and challengers.
"Lord that was bad," a dispirited KttD I and KttD VI Champion Hotrod said before relinquishing Lord Ramsey's Cup to the triumphant Peel. "Her song choice was just inspired. I never realized how many times that inane, droning chorus repeated itself until I was forced to listen to Peel caterwauling it on what seemed like an infinite loop. I don't know if I'll ever get that sound out of my head."
KttD V Champion Dabysan was equally emphatic. "Awful. That was just, really…awful. I mean we're all bad singers here, but she's completely tone deaf. I thought we were going to have a riot on our hands after she hollered 'Su-su-su-dio' for the 23rd time."
Added Hotrod: "And what was that dance she was doing? Her torso and feet never moved, just her knees bobbing along for however many millennia that wretched song lasted."
Thanks in part to the aforementioned staffing scandal, the KttD VII got off to a slow start. Before Dan M. could kick things off with the first song of the competition, the KttField had to wait nearly an hour as non-competitors from the "surly townie" population gobbled up precious time with their banal renditions of insipid country songs.
Although observers credited Dan for his willingness to sing in the dreaded number one slot for the second year running, his sophomore performance of Mrs. Robinson wasn't markedly worse than his lukewarm rookie rendition of Cheap Trick's epic "I want you to want me" in KttD VI. Odds-makers had Dan as a 36-1 underdog going into the competition, and from the first quiet, occasionally melodic strains of the non-offensive Simon and Garfunkel standard, it was easy to see why. He wouldn't factor in the final voting.
The first real surprise came when KttD co-founder and reigning KttChampion Hotrod took the stage for what would end up being his first and only song of the night. A giant of the sport and guaranteed first-ballot hall-of-famer, Hotrod has been responsible for some of the most execrable displays of vocal pyrotechnics ever inflicted on a KttD audience. From his sickly, squeaking voice, to his nonexistent vocal "range," to the palpable sense of discomfort he exudes when onstage, Hotrod is a bad singing thoroughbred, capable of creating a stampede for the exits at any moment.
It was shocking, therefore, when, from the opening strains of Journey's "Open Arms," he was mostly on key, listenable and at times even borderline pleasant. His voice cracked a little toward the end, but by then the crowd had joined in, creating the dreaded "sing-along-effect" which has sunk many a KttD performance. The disappointment was clear on his face from the moment he left the stage.
After a brief, shouted exchange with his longtime consigliere Vanna, there was widespread speculation of brewing dissent in the Hotrod camp, but Vanna played down the blowup. "He's fine, just letting off a little steam. When a really bad singer like Hotrod delivers an inexplicably listenable performance when it counts the most, you have to expect a little intensity on his part. I have absolute faith that he'll redeem himself with his next song." Vanna, who performed herself for the first time in KttD VII, failed to garner any attention from the judges with her stirring, but more-or-less on-key rendition of the Scorpions classic "Rock You Like a Hurricane."
Taking the stage immediately after Hotrod was another KttD legend. Despite being hampered both by his unwillingness to abide by the KttD substance abuse policy ("abusing substances is highly encouraged") and by his congenital lack of anything resembling shame, Dabysan won KttD V through sheer force of volume and sonic dissonance.
But for all of his natural inability, Dabysan never really put it together at KttD VII. His song choice was bad enough (Color Me Badd's I Wanna Sex You Up) and his voice was as poor as usual, but he clearly didn't have enough of a handle on the material to really belt it out with his usual gusto. As KttD approached, observers opined that Dabysan's decision to move his training site to the Bahamas in the week leading up to the event was a mistake. Indeed, Dabysan came in soft and out of shape. Although he managed a couple votes in early straw polls, Dabysan finished way out of the running.
The first performance worthy of KttD's name came courtesy of KttD II Champ Doc Paradox and his bilious rendition of Alphaville's already atrocious "Forever Young." Paradox crooned his way though the awkwardly paced 80s synth-schlock, failing miserably to reach the song's lofty vocal register. Although nowhere near the standards of his eardrum-puncturing rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody in 2003, it was a bad song, and one that finally began to tickle the voters' interest.
El-Cap-E-Tan kept up things on the uptick with his own poor rendition of Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much," which, if not worthy of a win, was at least sufficiently lousy to begin to wash away the stains of his notorious tanking incident in KttD VI.
The real gems of the night though came one after another when Peel and the Capn's elder brother Soo Doh Nim took the stage back-to-back. Peel shocked and sickened the crowd with her truly atonal singing of Phil Collins vacuous, inexplicable hit song. The dance floor cleared. Surly townies got surlier. The bar grew strangely silent, waiting for the interminable song to end.
In the wake of Peel's display, handicappers openly questioned whether anyone would be able to mount a real challenge, but KttD IV Champion Soo was up to the test. Combining the best of his arrhythmic dancing "style" and his singularly unpleasant voice, Soo ruthlessly mangled Carly Simon's "The Spy Who Loved Me." Indeed, had he not played to the crowd toward the end of the song with is brash pronouncements that the "cup is mine" he may have mounted a real challenge for the championship. Such knowing winks are generally frowned upon in the KttD community, where the watchword is humiliation.
The only other real challenge to Peel came from surprise newcomer Allison K., who delivered a shockingly bad and decidedly earnest rendition of Bruce Springsteen's "Thunder Road." Allison didn't once look at the monitor during Springsteen's epic dirge, closing her eyes and signing the dense, inaccessible string of lyrics from memory. She wasn’t quite bad enough to challenge for the cup, but observers agreed that she'd be one to watch in the future.
From then on out Peel only had to fend off a forgettable rendition of Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" from perennial tanking suspect Mwanga on her way to final victory.
The staffing scandal that threatened to undermine the competition came in the form of what KttD officials described as the "Worst. Karaoke. DJ. Ever." Sporting a New York Yankees cap and a faded blue t-shirt tucked into his high water Wranglers, the hems of which dangled precariously over his gleaming white sneakers, the DJ stacked the song list with his friends, effectively preventing any KttCompetitor from singing a second song. One casualty was that reigning champ Hotrod had no opportunity to bring it all home with his plan to belt out "Gloria" by Laura Branigan.
A typically diplomatic Hotrod was cautious in his assessment of the situation. "That guy is the biggest douche in Christendom. I hope he gets hit by a bus on his way home."
The KttD Competition Committee has empanelled a blue ribbon commission to study the incident. By May the commission will issue its findings on how to ensure that future events are not marred by similar staffing problems. Although seen by some a last resort, paid assassination squads have not yet been ruled out as an option.
Excelsior!
For the past few weeks, Hotrod and I have been touting our annual bad singing contest, the Seventh Annual Karaoke to the Death VII. Many of you plan to be in attendance. For those who haven't yet committed to coming, I'm informed that plane fares to DC are quite reasonable in February, and know for a fact that Hotrod: a) loves people, especially those he doesn't know and b) is always happy to lodge a few more gentle souls at his palatial estate. So quit lurking around here and go book a flight.
In recent posts, we've devoted a great deal of digital ink to recalling past glories, and this is appropriate, for they are legion. We still haven't gotten around to recapping the performance that gave Lord Ramsey's Cup its name, perhaps because its the sort of thing you want to retell in hushed tones to family and loved ones, perhaps around a campfire. There are many more wonderful stories to tell, and tell them we will, but this post is not about KttD's many triumphs.
For every great good in the universe, there is an equal and opposite force of evil. As transcendent as KttD is, even it cannot escape this inexorable natural law. As co-chair of the competition committee, the event-planning committee, the board of directors, the principal shareholders and the rules committee, I have been honored to play a role in creating the level KttD playing field we all enjoy. I drafted the substance abuse policy ("abusing substances is strongly encouraged") and engaged in the great debate over whether to institute an outright ban on songs by Queen (we haven't...yet).
But at the core of all the rules for KttD is one simple principle: no tanking.
"You have to try" and "you have to suck," are the two great commandments of KttD. There will never be a third. "Tanking" -- which for our purposes describes the act of singing beneath one's natural ability to curry additional favor with the judges -- is, to KttD, what steroids, corked bats, point shaving, and betting against your own team are to other sports. It is a cardinal sin and one not to be soon forgiven. Known tankers carry their shame with them like a scarlet "T" for years to come, and are never again trusted in quite the same way.
At the core of these commandments is an elemental truth about KttD. Beneath all of the glitz and the pageantry, what KttD is about is humiliation. That's why we do it in a public setting, surrounded by surly townies who aren't in on the joke. It's about getting up on a stage, trying your hardest to do something well...and failing. Spectacularly. In front of hundreds of witnesses. When you take the KttD stage, and start mangling that Bee Gees song, we're not laughing WITH you, we're laughing AT you. And through that purifying fire of humiliation there arises, like a phoenix, one champion, who -- shrugging off the remnants of his (or her) shattered dignity -- takes hold of the cup that signifies utter dominance in the world of bad singing. Former champions will tell you that it is a religious experience.
Which is what makes the tanker so odious. The tanker tries to undercut very essence of what makes KttD great. With a wink, he says to the crowd "hey, I'm in on the joke. I'm one of you. I'm just sucking cause its all in good fun. Heck, I'll be the first to laugh right along with you." In one stroke, he cuts at the very heart of the trust relationship between the KttD performer and the KttD audience. If you're not willing to fail miserably, while doing your utmost to succeed, you may not be cut out for KttD. Thankfully, most tankers are easy to spot. You can see the wheels turning as they strain their voice to make unnecessarily discordant tones. Tankers never prosper. So don't do it.
There is an important caveat here. Nothing in the "no tanking" policy prevents a contestant from choosing a song that is morbidly distant from his or her natural vocal "range." It's how I won my championship, and I'm very proud of it. Song selection is at least 50 percent of any winning performance, and contestants should use it to embrace their true rottenness. Just make sure that once you choose your song, you sing it as well as your meager abilities will permit. That's all we ask.
Excelsior!
A little over seven years ago, I made a simple bet with Hotrod. I proposed that I was a lousier singer than him -- a lousier singer than anyone else in Christendom, for that matter -- and that I was prepared to prove it in the arena of his choosing. There's no way I could have known at the time that our little wager would give rise to the single greatest sporting event known to man*
The story changes with each retelling, but here's how I remember the episode that started it all. To set the stage, picture younger, spryer (sprier?) versions of Hotrod and Dabysan sitting around a big table in a crowded coffee shop.
Dabysan: (singing) cause I must be travelin on now/ there's too many places I've got to see...
Hotrod: seriously, I'm going to have to ask you to stop. People are leaving.
Dabysan: No accounting for taste. Besides, I didn't like the looks of them anyway. (singing) if I stayed here with you love/ things just wouldn't be the same...
Hotrod: I think I see a trickle of blood coming from that woman's left ear. What do you have against the world that you feel the need to inflict this on them?
Dabysan: She was bleeding when she walked in. And I gotta say, it sounds okay from this end (singing) cause I'm as free as a bird now...
Hotrod: (wincing) I'm certain that sound doesn't occur in nature.
Dabysan: Fine. I'll concede, I'm not the best singer, but I like to do it, and I'm not hurting anyone...much. Besides, if you can't be the best at something, there's a perverse honor in being the worst.
Hotrod: You're not the worst. You're indistinguishably awful. Lots of people are worse than you. I'm worse than you.
Dabysan: Balls. Prove it.
Hotrod: Some of us have respect for other human beings.
Dabysan: Wussy.
Hotrod: You want to settle this? Why don't we go to that dive karaoke bar up the street and have a sing off, we'll see who the townies kill first.
Dabysan: Anytime red. Anytime. (singing) ...and this bird you cannot cha-a-a-a-a--a-a-nge!
And the rest is history. On February 18th we'll hold the Seventh Annual Karaoke to the Death VII. Former champions will match vocal ineptitude with the largest-ever crop of scrappy young upstarts. Emma, the Cap'n, KttD II Champ Doc Paradox, KttD IV Champ Soo and Vanna will all be on hand to take part in the power and the glory.
The highlight of my competitive life (and no, I don't think this is sad) came in 2005, when, after years of coming just short, I finally won Lord Ramsey's Cup with my curdling rendition of Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now."
I'll have much more to say about KttD as the event approaches. Suffice to say, I have a plan in place to re-gain Lord Ramsey's Cup and rule, once again over the sport of bad Karaoke.
-Excelsior!
*that takes place in Alexandria, VA., does not feature professional athletes and involves grown men singing Tina Turner songs.
