I do not sing. Everyone who knows me knows that I have no sense of pitch or melody. Familiarity with a song over time means I can make a stab at being in tune, which is why I used to sing hymns at musical auditions in the Sixth form (Jnr/snr year) and, occasionally, even make it into the chorus, where I would then mime for the entire production.
So it’s a measure of my love for Tara, that I agreed to join her and two other close friends in a small vinyl lined box in the bowels of London’s Soho to belt out karaoke tunes on a Sunday evening for her birthday celebration.
We started out with The Shoop Shoop song to get us in the mood, and then Ayla & I swiftly despatched Pixies’ Monkey Gone to Heaven, a dream come true for me as it requires practically no singing: one can get away with just chanting the lyrics in a dirge like manner and, as I know them off by heart anyway, that left plenty of time for posing with the mic and throwing alt rock shapes.
Plenty of other high class songs followed:
I have also now discovered that Pulp’s songs are the perfect karaoke tunes for the vocally challenged as I know them inside out and back to front so can actually sing along without losing my place on the autocue.
Tara is surely the chic-est 5 months pregnant lady to ever hit a karaoke bar, in her Laura Lee for Topshop blouse and black leggings. And no one, no one works a tambourine quite like T. I find it hard to believe this will be infant number three.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING!