Loading...I have, let us say, a hobby.
Over the last eight years, I’ve occasionally lingered in karaoke bars. At least one night a week, in fact. In further fact, rather more frequently; it is not unkind to suggest the average is closer to the neighborhood of three-to-five nights weekly. To wit, I believe five hundred nights of in-the-field observation is a conservative estimate.
We may have left hobby territory and arrived at the crossroads of obsession and masked vigilante.
In my capacity as self-appointed karaoke Batman – or perhaps Doctor Strange? – I’d like to extend to you a friendly warning. Ancient words of power have been locked within deceptively milquetoast boppings of pop, words that may be invoked to bring misery and despair. Only through mastery of eldritch forces may one attempt to unlock these powerful spells for the common good. To engage their limitless power in mere jest or mirth is to court ruin.
I speak, of course, of the Seven Deadly Songs.
The Seven Deadly Songs no woman or man should chance to utter, particularly into a microphone that has drank more than any regular patron of the establishment.
Beware these, in no order or hierarchy:
7. I’ve Got Friends in Low Places
This fable of a lovelorn man, desperate to win the favor of a woman above his station, is played out repeatedly throughout history. However, spurred by the early days of feminism, dark legions of Succubi held a conference and unilaterally agreed to amplify the suffering of thoughtless dudes. This lead to a noticeable uptick in self-effacing ballads betraying bitter ignorance of one’s entitlement. Country music has sucked ever since.
Singing this song is a one-way ticket to making everyone in the bar hate you, especially if performed unironically (because come on: dick move, we all know we’re in a low place, you don’t have to drag us down and advertise we know you, too). Otherwise, it mostly results in drunken country howling.
If you’re super lucky, the least disinterested audience members join in for a pity refrain.
6. Total Eclipse of the Heart
A little-known fact: legendary songsmith Jim Steinman briefly dabbled in the dark arts. In the very early eighties, he succeeded in conjuring the gorgon Medusa, famed creature of Greek myth. After a lengthy correspondence with the cursed creature, he became hopelessly infatuated with her salacious tales of the demon world.
At the height of his fascination with the demon’s exploits, he penned what he felt to be an essential tribute to the creature, so perfectly encapsulating the curious duality of the demon’s obsessions set against her revolting nature (as the song compels one to “turn around”).
As was his wont, he entrusted this fell ode to the voice of Bonnie Tyler.
Secretly regarded as a powerful witch, Steinman had no knowledge of the folly to which he was a party. Now, this demonic ode bids young maidens to turn away from the paralyzing visage of the gorgon, while singing praise of her all-consuming desire. The rite is often unwittingly shared by at least three women, much as the original myth of Medusa was split into the three Gorgons by hapless men desperate to fracture her power. Medusa cackles with evil glee at this tribute, staring molten daggers through the verses and pulling lost girls toward her siren song.
This evil riff also inspires interpretive dance, the most objectionable endeavor under the watchful eyes of a scornful God (behind autoerotic asphyxiation, which He finds somewhat laughable).
5. Summer Lovin’
This is just a shitty thing that girls do to their boyfriends, especially if they feel like they aren’t getting enough attention. There’s not really any demons here; I just hate listening to it.
If you think this is terrifying, tune in to the chilling continuation of the Seven Deadly Songs next week.
Until then, mostly I’ll just be here, watching way too much Buffy.
