April 28 2017
My friend LD was meeting up with some of his friends at the Original Farmers Market in Fairfax. It's been around since the early 1930s and has over 100 gourmet stalls selling all variety of cuisines.
We skipped the coffee and donuts and went for a slice of pizza. I know, all those choices and I go for a bread and cheese, but what the heck.
We finally find his friends and they're tabled in an area with a karaoke competition going on. It's actually pretty good as far as karaoke goes. Particularly good are the oldies who are getting up and belting out tunes. Not so much a series of Pat Benatar numbers by girls in their 40s. (Don't start me, but I believe her Love Is A Battlefield was responsible for a long slew of just awful bands, led by girls who actually thought they would be the next Pat Benatar, doing the shimmy dance in front of a triangle of dancers. The 80s <insert heavy sigh>.
After a while, something doesn't feel right. There's a beautiful old Jewish lady in her 70s (possibly 80s) cranking out a pretty rocking tune. She's wearing what looks like a really expensive dress, as in the type of dress an old lady would wear to the opera, sequins, beads, the whole number. If this is so random, why are the same people getting up for number after number?
We battle it out with the ridiculously loud volume in this place, trying to communicate with a bunch of people I'd just met while competing with a P.A. system that is just too, too loud. Could be, I'm just getting older however given the number of senior citizens here, I can't imagine it's working for them, either, unless they've got their hearing aids turned way, way down. It's loud and distorted, my voice hurts and I feel like I should be in one of those Lichtenstein paintings where planes and bombs are crashing all around.
At first what seemed so sweet, a bunch of senior citizens having their fifteen minutes of fame, it turns out that we're being had by a group of people who are desperate for attention .. in whatever way they're gonna get it. It's most likely that these grannies and grampas are actually here every chance they get, spending their time practicing their songs in their cars, whilst driving, so that nobody can hear the REAL amateurs that they are.
Essentially it's just like any one of those singing reality TV shows. Semi professionals pretending to be amateurs. It's kind of sad, really. The truth is none of these covers will actually sound better than the original sound recordings of these songs. Personally I'd rather much hear the original, than have some amateur hack those beautiful songs into a million bloody pieces with the machete that they call their 'voice'. They're more similar to those singing competitions than you realise. None of them make money doing it, none of them are creating anything new. Sure, it's fun to get up and karaoke, especially if you've got a good ear, and can hold a tune. But this is different. These people are mostly professional karoake-ers with amateur machetes.
I would have taken photos to prove the point (or at least their OTT clothes) but I was in a mean mood (as if you couldn't tell). I didn't want to give them any more attention than they deserved. If there was a limit to how much they deserved, they had definitely already gone way, way past that. Especially the ones that got up and sang multiple numbers. What seemed sweet now exposed itself as being very contrived.
Afterwards, we headed through some of the strip malls that make up the market and found some very cool hollywood memorabilia. I was particularly enchanted by these Lucille Ball, Desi Arnez and Popeye's Olive Oyl.
Then we went out and hit the bar for a drink. It's always great meeting new people, and this night managed to kill three birds with one stone: new friends, new experience, new location.
Our ears are both ringing from the noise, though, so let's blow this hot dog stand!
My friend LD was meeting up with some of his friends at the Original Farmers Market in Fairfax. It's been around since the early 1930s and has over 100 gourmet stalls selling all variety of cuisines.
We skipped the coffee and donuts and went for a slice of pizza. I know, all those choices and I go for a bread and cheese, but what the heck.
We finally find his friends and they're tabled in an area with a karaoke competition going on. It's actually pretty good as far as karaoke goes. Particularly good are the oldies who are getting up and belting out tunes. Not so much a series of Pat Benatar numbers by girls in their 40s. (Don't start me, but I believe her Love Is A Battlefield was responsible for a long slew of just awful bands, led by girls who actually thought they would be the next Pat Benatar, doing the shimmy dance in front of a triangle of dancers. The 80s <insert heavy sigh>.
After a while, something doesn't feel right. There's a beautiful old Jewish lady in her 70s (possibly 80s) cranking out a pretty rocking tune. She's wearing what looks like a really expensive dress, as in the type of dress an old lady would wear to the opera, sequins, beads, the whole number. If this is so random, why are the same people getting up for number after number?
We battle it out with the ridiculously loud volume in this place, trying to communicate with a bunch of people I'd just met while competing with a P.A. system that is just too, too loud. Could be, I'm just getting older however given the number of senior citizens here, I can't imagine it's working for them, either, unless they've got their hearing aids turned way, way down. It's loud and distorted, my voice hurts and I feel like I should be in one of those Lichtenstein paintings where planes and bombs are crashing all around.
Essentially it's just like any one of those singing reality TV shows. Semi professionals pretending to be amateurs. It's kind of sad, really. The truth is none of these covers will actually sound better than the original sound recordings of these songs. Personally I'd rather much hear the original, than have some amateur hack those beautiful songs into a million bloody pieces with the machete that they call their 'voice'. They're more similar to those singing competitions than you realise. None of them make money doing it, none of them are creating anything new. Sure, it's fun to get up and karaoke, especially if you've got a good ear, and can hold a tune. But this is different. These people are mostly professional karoake-ers with amateur machetes.
I would have taken photos to prove the point (or at least their OTT clothes) but I was in a mean mood (as if you couldn't tell). I didn't want to give them any more attention than they deserved. If there was a limit to how much they deserved, they had definitely already gone way, way past that. Especially the ones that got up and sang multiple numbers. What seemed sweet now exposed itself as being very contrived.
Afterwards, we headed through some of the strip malls that make up the market and found some very cool hollywood memorabilia. I was particularly enchanted by these Lucille Ball, Desi Arnez and Popeye's Olive Oyl.
Then we went out and hit the bar for a drink. It's always great meeting new people, and this night managed to kill three birds with one stone: new friends, new experience, new location.
Our ears are both ringing from the noise, though, so let's blow this hot dog stand!
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