Obituary
100 years old.
Wonder what song he would have sung along to via the infernal machine he invented
RIP, Negishi-san
Shigeichi Negishi RIP
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Musings on the byways of popular culture
To answer my own question, it obvs won’t be live Forever, though he gave it a damn good go
I thought it was invented by Phil Oakey’s sister, Carrie.
I thought it was his brother Gary.
I thought it was invented in India by Gupta Singh?
Ably assisted by Atta Tune.
When I visited Japan I remember coming across a large building overlooking a baseball pitch in Tokyo. In every window was a single person, mostly men, seemingly belting out a tune on a mic. Turned out they were booths where the ‘salary men’ would hone their moves on personal karaoke machines prior to a night out on the town. They take these things very seriously in the land of the rising sun.
On the rare occasions I’m convinced to have a pop this is my go to tune. Evidently it causes no end of hilarity because of how serious my face is as I duly mangle this pop classic.
The only time I’ve ‘sung’ at one was a Christmas party where we knew we’d have to ‘perform’. My wife and I sang the Bonzos ‘Little Sir Echo’ with me as the dummy* on my wife’s knees. When it came to the audience participation part I held up a cardboard cut-out with HELLO on it.
The chap in charge of the karaoke said in all the times of doing it he’d never seen anything like it.
* typecasting.
No doubt brer @bingo-little will be shedding a reflective tear at this news.
I did also crack the boards in my youth. It’s the most devastating moment in a young man’s life, when he quite reasonably says to himself, “I shall never get the top note in Without You”
It is at that moment that all ambition ceases to exist.
A sad day indeed.
I console myself that this gentlemen invented not karaoke, but the karaoke machine.
Human beings have been getting together to raise their voices to the heavens for as long as there have been human beings. I believe that Neanderthal man was particularly keen on Sisqo’s Thong Song.
Cro-Magnon Man couldn’t have evolved without giving it some Michael Bolton of a Friday evening.
Fun fact: the Age of Enlightenment was kick started by Kant, Voltaire and Rousseau getting carried away on a night out doing Van Morrison tunes.
Kant – the Paul Cook of trance(ndental) karaoke “Always on time, he had to provide the beat”
The Reformation kicked off after Martin Luther shredded his throat doing Knock on Wood.
For more years than I care to admit I thought that was a panto reference. “I shall never play the dame”.
*Gets trench coat*
Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.
Singing is a wonderful thing and if a machine in a consenting environment enables those to sing who might never do so otherwise, then I’m all for it. Good clean fun; no-one taking themselves too seriously; much to commend it.
My kick-ass K-list (SWITD) is available for a small consideration through the usual channels.
In the spirit of Global Recycling Day, here’s a tale I’ve told before.
In 1999, I went to Dublin with my Best Man, to stay at the house of the parents of our pal Frank. We’d been to university with Frank, his dad was a lecturer at Trinity College, and his folks lived an hour outside Dublin in the Wicklow mountains. Their neighbours were Chris DeBurgh (I’ve seen him mowing his lawn) and a Formula One driver, and our Friday night last-orders trip to the local pub had found us buying pints of Guinness for the entertainment – The Edge and a bloke out of Hothouse Flowers.
My Saturday night stag “do” was a pizza, some pints of black stuff, and a nightclub where, at midnight, a band of late-teens and early-twenty-somethings came on stage and played ceilidh music for an hour while the audience went nuts.
Dragging myself out of Frank’s sister’s bed (she wasn’t in it) at the crack of noon, we took a taxi to a pub in the mountains with the largest car park I’ve ever seen, and with no houses in sight. It turned out everyone in a 20-mile radius of this place went there for Sunday roast, and the 4-piece house band played “live karaoke” while the punters provided vocals. Every table was provided with a slip of paper and a pencil, on which to write your song request.
I really can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I know all the words to Thank You For The Music. After a few pints, I was busting for a piss. As I exited the Gents, the compere announced “and all the way from Cambridge, Steve is going to do us some Abba”. The bastards had filled out the slip and handed it in, while I’d been having a wazz.
The band kicked off. “I’m nothing special, in fact I’m a bit of a bore…” Thankfully the audience helped me out with the harmonies and I got through it. I handed the radio mic over to the next victim, a slim woman who was loitering at the edge of the stage.
“Er, thanks for that. And now Sinéad is going to sing us something.”
That’s right, I was Sinéad O’Connor’s support act.
Great story (don’t recall reading it before)