Janis Joplin |
Is only our memory of the moments During which we knew them T. S. Eliot |
Why do people do karaoke?
In Japan, it's a social necessity. A group of friends or business associates gets a private room in a bar, sits around drinking, and everybody takes turns singing at 100 yen a pop as group entertainment. They also electronically rate the performances.
In America, people do it as a novelty. Some people are dedicated to it, going every night, polishing their moves, dreaming of singing careers.
At A-Kon 15 there was a different karaoke crowd.
When you love Japanese music, and no one around you appreciates it ("But I can't even understand the words, dear!"), you get pretty isolated. Many of these people are pretty isolated anyway. These beautiful songs, and no one knows! You sing along with them at home, over and over. You get to know all the words, even if they are in Japanese.
Harvey had many CDs full of music. When he finished singing a song, he went right back into line. He sang anything and everything, even (or especially) little-girly songs. He had all the words written down and had difficulty reading them. He had dance moves.
Freya (dark Chi) was pretty and shy. She sang very beautiful songs with all her heart. She had all the words memorized. Her Japanese accent was flawless. She sang so faithfully with the recorded voice that it sounded like 1 voice. She kept rolling her eyes. I finally figured out that she rolled her eyes when she thought she had made an error. No error was perceptible, so it just looked kind of strange.
Another woman sang Sakura Saku from Love Hina. This is a rollicking tune with instruments carrying a big part of the melody. Harvey had the music on CD, but she didn't want to wait. She sang the song a capella very quickly from memory, counting off the instrumental parts in her head. She knew all the words. Then she sat down.
When I passed by much later, in the wee hours of the morning, I peeked in. Harvey was still there singing into the microphone. Everyone else had long gone home, including the guy who ran the karaoke machine. But Harvey was still there, singing.