How Singing Mr. Brightside at a Karaoke Bar Changed My Life
“Music has the ability to open us. It is something that we can explore through different genres, feelings, and interpretations. Music is poetry of the 4th dimension.”
Early in my childhood, I came across many artists of the early 2000s that left a nostalgic imprint. The killers, Avril Lavigne, Green Day, and All-American Rejects come to mind. At a young age, music was this very special wonder. There’s no concern with what the artists are saying or what the lyrics mean, it is all about the feelings that resonate with us when we’re listening. There is no persona attached to the genre or artist we’re listening to. For example, I never thought myself “emo” while I listened to My Chemical Romance, or an “edgy punk” as I listened to Green Day. I was fully immersed in how I was feeling, and not concerned whatsoever with labels. There was one song that really resonated with me and I never understood why and I never really cared to. That song was Mr. Brightside by The Killers. Whenever It played on the car radio I unbuckled my seatbelt and danced uncontrollably until my mother would stop the car and scold me. Whenever it played on the TV, I would get up and start moving my body. The impulses were impossible to restrain. It was as though a spell was casted over me and I’d totally lost myself in the moment.
Fast forward to freshman year of High School. This was a time when music became a very key part of my life. My sister’s friends, who were seniors at the time, got me interested in the underground, indie rock music scene. I began spending a lot of time with my new senior friends and listening to more and more of this very obscure and deep music. It started out with Mac Demarco, Tame Impala, and The Arctic Monkeys. From then on, I descended into the musical depths of obscurity and meaning. I began to get lost in the lyrics of these new artists I’d discover. the more confusing, the better. It got to a point where I wanted to start writing my own music. So, I bought an acoustic guitar from a local vendor, and it only took me a couple weeks to get comfortable with playing. From then on, I started writing and writing. By senior year this edgy, underground rock persona was becoming very noticeable. My nails were painted black, I had bleached my hair blonde,(it was dyed blue at one point) and I was super pretentious about it. My music taste had placed restrictions on my personality. I was judge-mental of those who enjoyed mainstream pop music. This persona held me back from listening to many artists that I might have enjoyed then if it weren’t for my specific taste and elitist attitude. But I was a musician, I wrote my own music and it felt as though I had to stay within the bounds of my edgy, indie boy identity.
Writing music had only been a hobby, but deep down I’d always wanted to be a musician. Not in the sense that I study and get a degree in music, but to be a part of the indie, underground scene along with artists like Mac Demarco and others upcoming bedroom artists.
After my freshman year of college, I was pretty confused about what I wanted to do with my life. I was hopping around different majors, but none of them felt right. I’d always known in the back of my head that music was what I wanted to do. During that summer, I self-produced a couple of my songs and posted them to multiple streaming services. One of my senior friends, who lives in Brooklyn, reached out to me. They asked me if I wanted to stay a couple weeks with them to pursue a music career in New York. I was very happy to accept the offer and deferred from my university until the spring semester. This was my chance, I thought. Although I kept a level head and accepted the fact that it would be very unlikely for me to get noticed after a couple of weeks. It would be good fun at the very least.
Time had passed and I found myself in New York, playing at any open mic I could find around the city. I played in bars, clubs, cafes, and music stores. Although I wasn’t as happy as I thought I’d be. I felt lost at times, I didn’t feel right when I played my music in front of strangers. It wasn’t nerves, either. Something felt off. As days progressed, I began to feel this crippling emptiness. But why? This emptiness didn’t make sense to me, because I was in New York Pursuing my dream of being a full time musician. People were really liking my music and I was even asked to encore during some sets. I felt confused.
A few days remained of my time in New York, and I’d only planned to sign up for one last open mic in Astoria at a cute music store called the Music Inn. I felt very reluctant to even sign up, but it’s why I’d gone to New York in the first place. Sign ups for the open mic started at 8 pm. I showed up late with the friends I was staying with at around 9 pm, so I didn’t get a set until 12 am that night. Luckily, there was a karaoke bar across the street. We made our way down to this very small retro basement with neon blue lights running down the walls and dimly lit LEDs filling the rest of the room. My friends and I had had a couple of drinks and one thing led to the next, I found the karaoke mic in my hands standing in front of a blank TV screen awaiting the next song.
The bartender’s voice started fading in, “What song do you want me to play?”
I blurted out the first one that came to mind. “Mr. Brightside by the Killers”
My first reaction was shock. “What am I doing?” I thought, “ This song is too mainstream. It doesn’t match up with my edgy, obscure persona.”
The intro sounded and my brain shut up. I was fully invested. I began singing the lyrics I memorized from my childhood. I was feeling so many feelings. I had this rush of ecstasy through my body as I drunkenly sang to these strangers in a basement. I was taken back to my childhood when music was just pure feeling. I felt this sense of liberation. I had been bogged down by trying to find meaning and obscurity in music that I forgot about the whole feeling and emotional side.
When the song was over I realized that I didn’t want to be a musician. Not if it meant restricting my personality or holding me back from feeling what I had just felt. I felt as though I had been holding myself back from my true self for so long.
I skipped the open mic, packed my bags, and took a bus back home the morning after. I went back to college with a new, more freeing outlook on life. I listen to mainstream music without a shred of guilt. I am open to other people’s music choices for the most part, and most importantly I can be more honest with myself. I can live a truer version of myself, and that is all thanks to Mr. Brightside and Karaoke bars.
