I have crooned Frank Sinatra with Toshiba business men; I have screamed Avril Levigne with twenty-something hair dressers; I have performed a dance routine to a Japanese song about fish in front of a crowd of two hundred; I have serenaded co-workers with Celine Dion; I have slogged through Bette Midler with senior citizens; I have seduced my husband with the breathless exhalations that constitute the song ‘I Want To Be Loved By You.’ In other words, I have karaoked – a lot. And yes, I did just use the word karaoke as a verb. When you live in Japan, the activity that most equate with your least favorite night at a local watering hole can easily become a hobby, pray, even an obsession.
The work ‘karaoke’ is Japanese and means, literally, ‘fake orchestra.’ Thus, while other Asian nations avidly partake in this past time, Japan, as the progenitor of the activity, represents the ultimate in karaoke culture. There are two aspects to karaoke that result in its prominence in Japanese culture: the private karaoke room and soul-crushing social obligations.
First, the private karaoke room – this concept is ingenious. Truly, who wants to get up in front of a bunch of drunken strangers in a dark bar and emote your heart and soul into a stirring rendition of The Carpenters ‘Superstar?’ In a shower – yes. In the car – perhaps, with the windows up. Hunkered in a group of swaying inebriated classmates at a 1971 high school reunion – of course. Still, the draw of karaoke is the fully orchestrated score, the back-up singers, the mic and none of the previously mentioned situations allow a person to fully inhabit the role of rocker.
Cue the private karaoke room! Bring a group of your nearest and dearest friends, sign up for two hours of all-you-can-drink (nomihodai in Japanese) singing, and watch as all your inhibitions melt away… See, when you’re with friends they will either love and support all your singing efforts, or completely and blatantly ignore you. In the latter instance you don’t have to feel guilty about ruining anyone’s evening with your warbling, because they are your friends, and they have to like you regardless, and anyway they knew what they were getting into. I cannot emphasize enough the importance of the all-you-can-drink aspect of the karaoke room. With it, a group of six people can sing for three hours, without it you may end up in a fetal position in the corner while other squeal and bang on tambourines.
Now, not all karaoke excursions in Japan are with your nearest and dearest friends. There are high expectations, nay rules, to socializing within the workplace in Japan. This really applies to what I suppose would be called ‘white collar jobs’ in the States and what is referred to as ‘Salaryman’ status in Japan. Someone in this work environment is required to spend all day with his or her coworkers and then continue the day at a local bar or izakaya. Here hours of eating and drinking make way for other pursuits, the most innocent of which is karaoke. As a teacher in Japan, I was not expected to join in on these marathon nights of drinking. However, it was expected that at least once, if not twice, in every three month class we would all get together and eat, drink, and sing. It did not matter if my class was upper management at Texas Instruments, a class of grandmothers, or a local soccer team – there would be singing.
The music is deafening, a disco ball is showering everyone with shards of colored light, and I have just been brought a drink that comes with half of a grapefruit – I inhale my surroundings and wonder where the hell I am.
