Karaoke Apocalypse

Luv Doc Writings, The Luv Doc Recommends

JUNE 26, 2007

Singers get all the strange. It’s the truth. Look it up. Wikipedia that shit. Yes, there are some exceptions: Eddie van Halen; Tommy Lee; Peter Criss; pretty much any nonsinging member of Blues Traveler, Metallica, or Motörhead, but for the most part, if you rock the mic, chances are you’ll be rocking someone’s world after the show. As a matter of fact, it’s a safe bet that even John Popper, James Hetfield, and Lemmy Kilmister score a disproportionate amount of wool, which is no small miracle considering Popper looks like he sells used cars on Hee Haw, Hetfield’s face has apparently been worked over with a meat tenderizer mallet, and Lemmy is the spawn of some unholy clusterfuck involving the Crypt Keeper, Al Swearengen from Deadwood, the Wicked Witch of the West, and Blaine Cartwright from Nashville Pussy – and that’s being generous. Lemmy by his own account has shagged more than 2000 women, so it’s very likely he doesn’t just look diseased, he actually is. But even if he’s only bagged half that number looking the way he does, it’s a remarkable feat – equivalent to say, Stephen Hawking bringing home Olympic gold in the high jump. The singer mojo isn’t just a man thing either. Think of all the chick singers who have become famous simply because of their T&A – that’s right, talent and ability. Janis Joplin? Chrissie Hynde? Joan Jett? Björk? Courtney Love? OK, so maybe Courtney’s T&A is her T&A, but you have to admit she wouldn’t be seeing nearly as much timber if it weren’t for her Hole performance. Just imagine what Courtney’s love life would be like if she were working the mic at the Jack in the Box drive through. Very likely it would involve hamburger grease and a mop handle. Of course, sex appeal isn’t the exclusive property of singers, they just have a big piece the market. You can certainly work your financial-analyst mack or your systems-integration-engineer seduction techniques (you might also want to familiarize yourself with how to inflate a blow-up doll), but if you really want a technique that makes the underwear hit the floor, singing – even bad singing – is a better bet than most. If you’re not convinced, head down to the Hole in the Wall this Friday for Karaoke Apocalypse. Yes, it’s karaoke, which is pretty much the demolition derby of singing, but the difference with Karaoke Apocalypse is that you get to sing with a live band. In this case, the Dead Motley Sex Maidens, a crack crew of veteran Austin musicians with an extensive repertoire of pre-Nineties hard rock, punk, metal, and new wave and an obviously masochistic bent. Think about it: All the glamour and glory of rock stardom without the long rehearsals, heavy lifting, ego-tripping, and band-van beer farts. Time to drag out those tiger striped spandex leggings, visit the cucumber stand at the farmers market, and practice your Gene Simmons devil horns tongue flick. It’s time to rock. Hard.

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