forget chicken soup

karaoke is good for the soul. some people hate it and find it too embarrassing or obnoxious. to them i say, in the syle of loretta castorini (cher’s character in moonstruck): “snap out of it!” have some beers, loosen up. it’s amazing what kind of stress you can get out. here’s a partial set list from last night…

new additions to the repitoire:
goodbye to you / scandal
jungle love / curtis day and the time
hit me with your best shot / pat benetar
jumping jack flash / the rolling stones
china girl / david bowie

oldies but goodies:
understand your man / johnny cash
brass in pocket / pretenders
maneater / hall and oats
you got lucky / tom petty and the hearbreakers

not my personal best:
mary jane / rick james (i love this song but it’s not as good for karaoke as his others)
real love / mary j blige (you need real pipes to do that one)
should i stay or should i go / the clash (the alto was too deep, the soprano too high. i was surprised)

after an intensive 2-hour closed-door session in which no employees were harmed, we left sing sing and started looking for another bar in the nabe. we heard a strong beat and saw a beautiful black woman dancing in a doorway. my friend peeked inside and the hostess was like, “hey, come in, join the band!” it was a drum circle. there were maracas and plenty other percussion instruments to choose from. certainly there was no passing up this random opportunity to break it down with a bunch of apaches (they weren’t apaches, but wouldn’t that be even better?). so we broke it ˇ ˇ ˇ for about 10 minutes, maybe a little less, and then it got hot so we left. we stopped by my friend’s friend’s apartment. he had cool ass art, a clean aura and a really interesting personal history.



Filed under love, music

4 responses to “forget chicken soup

  1. I would defer to your musical knowledge in practically every situation, but I do believe that’s Morris Day and The Time.


    We’re so in love.

  3. kate, you are TOTES right! i love that you caught that. (and the music snob in me is mortified that i called morris curtis!)

    and laurs, i shouted this dedication before the song: “this next one’s going out to my kalamazoo bitch. we’re gonna tear this shit up like kittens on a new couch.”

  4. we’re gonna tear this shit up like kittens on a new couch.

    This? Is why I love.

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