Carpe Kareoke

Last week, a friend celebrated his birthday at a small Korean karaoke joint. The kind with private rooms and a songbook as thick as a brick. About three quarters of the book was in Korean; the sing-along lyrics had typos and accidental homonyms in every track; and the English-language pop songs were from 2003 or older.

None of this mattered, though, in fact it added to the charm.

It turns out a 30th birthday — the first out of grad school, the first on the open job market, the first with old friends and new making awkward conversation — requires only the privacy to passionately rap every pre-emo, post-Nirvana song released in the last 90s.

Hardly a song was played that didn’t spring from my middle school or high school repertoire of mix tapes and later, burned CDs.

There was a great deal of R.E.M., the Smashing Pumkins, The Verve, No Doubt; even the Spice a Girls, Ace of Base, and Natalie Imbruglia made appearances. But this new friend and his old mates constantly gravitated to a certain angry So-Cal semi-rap — the metal-light of Limp Bizkit,

They even did the voices. And the hand-over mic-grabs made famous on old-school TRL.

It was an intense personal flashback, songs filled with obvious memories and a wild nostalgia.

For the first time, I saw that look in our peers I’ve seen so often before in our parents. A fond wistfulness, an energetic remembering, the fabric of our younger selves woven in music, and donned like an old prom dress “just one more time”.

Advertisements

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: