5 Karaoke Songs that Ladies Should Never Sing as an Attempt at Getting Attention
I try to keep my bitter, sardonic rants on this blog to a minimum, but as a frequent patron of the karaoke scene there are certain songs in constant rotation that make me squirm and frankly, disenchanted with the state of womanhood today. Have we really succumbed to using tired karaoke staples as a hackneyed and pathetic way of drawing attention to ourselves? Singing one of the following songs on karaoke night in your local bar is like reading The Rules book before a big date or regarding Carrie Bradshaw’s aphorisms as gospel.
- Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler. “Turn Around… and GO HOME!” If I have to hear this desperate plea for “bright eyes” one more time while out at karaoke, I don’t know what I will do. I will just probably go get another cocktail and continue to complain under my breath. I don’t know what it is about this song that bothers me so; it’s just an innocuous power ballad teeming with melodrama and stereotypically feminine histrionics. Nothing wrong with a song that seems marketed for lonely housewives everywhere, right? And the girl that sings it revels in her over-the-top performance, milking every throaty note for what it’s worth: recognition from some aloof, douchey male in the audience. The worst is when a gaggle of girls hit the stage with this number. It’s akin to watching banshees tear their hair and gnash their teeth. I guess some people like that sort of thing.
- Love Is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar. We get it: the 80s were definitely awesome and it was pretty cool when Pat ran away from home in her chevron-striped body suit and totally cute headband because Mommy and Daddy didn’t understand the romantic underpinnings of her rebellion and angst. So, she went off to the big, bad city to be a private dancer with no promises, no demands because wasn’t the whole world screwed anyway? Yeah, Pat is a strong feminist icon with great taste in leggings (even if in a pseudo-ironic way, you know?) Yeah, we all get it. And it sucks. Sorry.
- I Hate Myself for Loving You - Joan Jett. I happen to love this song. Or I did at one point in time until I heard every badass chick with a faux-mullet snarl their way through it. It just seems like it’s the hipster’s answer to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”, another song that I also despise. I think I tend to eschew lady anthems like this: they seem so impersonal and devoid of real passion. Joan Jett’s raucous, fuck-off warcry to the man who manipulates her both body and soul has now been diluted into a slogan for rocker babes who want to share their heartbreak like it’s a sexy scar.
- Take Another Piece of My Heart - Janis Joplin. None of us can perform like Janis. Not even close. The type of girl that attempts to do justice to this number is either a girl who’s best friend has convinced her after a few too many vodka tonics that it’s the most cathartic way of getting over you-know-who or that one girl in the room who wishes she owned everyone in it. You know the one: she’s dressed to the downtown nines and kisses the karaoke host on both cheeks. She’s out to impress everyone in the joint with her impression of Janis and yet she lacks everything that Janis had: heart, soul, intelligence, sensitivity, talent.
- Brass in Pocket - The Pretenders. Essentially, Scarlett Johannson ruined this song with her pink-wigged performance in Lost in Translation. Her coquettish rendition for Bill Murray immediately cemented it as a cliché. Moreover, the lyrics don’t translate well when an obviously attention-starved and sloshed young female starts slurring “I’m special, so special/ I gotta have some of your attention/Give it to me!” Instead of being alluring, the song just becomes sad. Very, very sad.
