Gman Discovers the dimension of Karaoke

Suffice it to say that things were not going well in the studio and before long I found myself cruising around town looking for some subliminal distraction when I saw a sign that said “50 cent drafts everyday”. I wondered if this would be the diversion that I was looking for so I hastily pulled in. The place was called “The Brazen Head”. It was a small unassuming place located 135th and Cicero in Crestwood IL. Thinking back now, the only thing that I really remember about the sign was the 50 cent drafts part (all you marquee owners might want to make a mental note about this).

As I walked in I immediately discovered that it was Karaoke night. Now I’ll be upfront about this—I am a rock guy and I used to think that the Karaoke folks were penetrating, pervading, and permeating the rock stages in this great land like Kudzu and I wasn’t very happy about it—that is until I went to Suburban Nitelife’s Best of Burbs last spring and discovered that Karaoke people really don’t eat their young—it’s an urban myth probably created by a hair band in the ‘70’s. I learned at Bart’s shindig that they were regular folks like you and me, and worked and tried as hard as any player; I’ll bet many of them graduated from bands, to families, and finally to Karaoke in later stages of life. Initially however I had two thoughts running through my mind—nice cold juicy draft, and I’m NOT gonna sing.


The bartender was a sweetheart. She greeted me with a warm smile and said “looks like you are having a rough time—how about if I get you something?” That immediately made me welcome. Welcome is good in a first time place—ask anybody.
As I settled in I took in the smoky dim landscape. There was a little feller up now singing Rainy Day Woman by Dylan—he wasn’t reading the monitor but he was somewhat close on the lyrics. Everyone joined in on the refrain Everybody must get Stoned as he gleefully directed this bar choir with arms a flailing. He ended with a bow followed by raucous applause. That really made me take notice. I occurred to me that the people here weren’t alienated; segregated on pub table islands. No everyone seemed aligned and onboard with Rainy Day Woman. I felt a tinge of jealousy.


The guy next to me asked if I was going to sing. “No” I said offering the pathetic excuse “I have a sore tongue”.
“Come on—If I can do it anyone can” he replied through a stream of smoke.
“I don’t know the words” I said
“They’re on the screen”.
“I don’t know what songs are available”
“Here’s a book…”
“I’ve got to leave soon”
“You’ve got time for one…”

This guy was not about to let me go—but darn it—the beer was cold and good. Well…
By now the friendly bartender was wailing out “Respect” by Aretha. She was darned good too. I only wished the song was a bit shorter so that I could get a refill. Once again the group went nuts. She got her respect and then happily refilled me.
I was having trouble reading the book in the dimness. I had forgotten my specs and was drawing the book in and out like a trombone slide. The guy on the other side asked me what I was looking for and tried to help me find a song. Regardless I still wasn’t going to sing.
There were ballads and duets. A hot chick took her boots a walking. Still having trouble with the book I went over to the light to see if there was anything good in it. I found one that didn’t seem too bad—Stevie Ray Vaughn Pride and Joy –if I were to sing (which I wasn’t) it would be this song.

It turns out that the light was next to the host. “We have a newcomer here—rising star state your name!” A microphone was shoved in my face, and for a moment it was like being at the blackboard in third grade (minus the---oh never mind…). I looked out and everyone was waiting for my announcement.

“Gman” I said rather meekly”
“OK Gman what’ll it be?”
(In my mind I was still saying I’m not gonna sing I’m not gonna sing) “Pride and Joy” by Stevie Ray Vaughn.

The next thing you know I’m belting out some Stevie Ray to people hooting, hollering, and whistling. It was great—the trouble was that I wasn’t ready to sing. Actually my next stop after the book was the bathroom. A thought occurred to me. I wonder if I could finish in there? That would be really funny—I could have a big finish with a flush. I decided against it and instead had a bit more wiggle in my chorus. (I was hoping that the ladies didn’t think that I was doing a shoddy Elvis impersonation).

The song ended and everyone was telling me that it was awesome and way to go. I felt exhilarated. A few more songs and soon it was time to leave. I found the distraction that I was looking for and had a really good time doing it.

For those who might have missed it in this story the Brazen Head

Made me feel at home when I walked in.
The people there welcomed me into their community.

There was a beautiful cohesion thing happening there among everybody.
The Beers were 50 cents.

If you (like I was) are not the Karaoke type, you might want to try it. If you decide to, go find a place like this; it is really a different kind of night. You will have lot of fun.

I am Gman Blues; this is my story and I’m sticking with it.