Sappy Sad Songs Soothe Souls

This weekend and post is dedicated to our very loyal reader, IR.

Three weeks ago, IR emailed the Evil Twins to tell us she would be in New York City for the week and could play on Saturday. I have not seen her in 7 months because she lives on the other side of the pond. Excited to see her again, I rented a car for the weekend and drove down to the city. The drive was exhilirating. I had time to replay recent events in my life and enjoy the warm 65 mile an hour breeze. I anticipated all the fun and news I had to share with IR information that cannot be transmitted via e-mail or phone.

We met IR in K-town and hungrily walked to a Korean barbecue joint. I am always amazed how time has no effect on some friendships. After an initial "what have you been up to," we spent our time eating charred meats and rice talking about the nonsense of life.

IR had requested a night of karoke, but before that could be begin, we thought we should try to lubricate our throats with strawberry yogurt flavored soju. While handling being the only non-asian person in the bar quite well, IR could only drink couple of shots of the sticky sweet concotion.

When we were in college, karoke, or music rooms, as they are called in Korean, were fairly shady operations. A hipster son would normally lead you to your room, while his mother ran the cash register. No drinks were allowed and the number of songs in english were limited. This Saturday, we went to Chorus, which had once been a place we frequented in college. I was shocked when I walked off the frightening freight elevator to emerge into an ultra modern foyer. With gray curved slatted walls and different colored neon lights, it looked more like the Starship Enterprise than a music room house. They had a wide variety of beverages, even alcoholic ones, available. However, little else changed as we were lead to our room with black pleather couches and a dim disco light.

It always takes time to cue up the songs. You don't want to start with something too difficult, and every song you look at seems only okay because you are sure if you keep leafing through the song book you'll find your golden hit. We were fortunate that between the three of us we have no shame and so at least embarrassment was not a factor in choosing the songs. Tempo also plays a key role in song selection. For example, after a heart felt ballad such as Richard Marx's "Right Here Waiting for You," you should follow it up with something upbeat such as "Locamotion" by Little Eva.

Lots of risky choices were made that night. ET#2 and IR did a version of "In da Club" by 50 cent. I attempted to rap JayZ's part in "Crazy in Love." Conclusion: Rapping is not only a cardiovascular work out, but also extremely difficult to keep up with even if you think you have the words memorized. Teen pop ido standards are much easier to handle. Backstreet Boys, Christina Aguilera, and Britney Spears all made an apperence that night. As a matter of fact, IR's poignant and somewhat off key rendition of "Everytime" was the highlight of the evening.

Maybe it is our age, maybe it was our mood, or maybe they are just easier to sing, my favorite songs for the evening were all about love gone wrong. Years and years of being inundated by Musak in elevators and malls had prepared us for this moment. The three of us sang and swayed to such classics as "Heartache" by Bonnie Tyler, "Love Fool" by the Cardigans and "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart. These songs made me feel a little nostalgic, a little melancholy, and a lot silly for being affected at all.

After we had all be come hoarse from over 2 hours of vocalizing, we departed ways. IR flew back to London the next day.

On my drive back to Boston, I did not listen to the indie rock CD's I burned. Instead, I blasted local easy listening stations that played the best of the 80's, 90's and today. Didn't even need a teleprompter to sing along.