The Wake

“The Rainbow Connection” is a song usually performed by Kermit the Frog. Thanks to karaoke, anyone, amphibian or otherwise, can sing its sweet strains. On August 30 at The Whiskey Rack, Kermit took the form of a young, biped mammal, Bob Dylan was an elderly lady and Britney Spears was Vietnamese.

The Whiskey Rack is one of many bars in the Twin Cities area that has karaoke. Most people come to unwind, have a few drinks and a good time. And when the stage lights up, the disco-ball starts spinning, and someone approaches the microphone, you can’t help but listen. There’s a humanity that thrives inside a karaoke bar, an acoustic energy that binds the people inside together. And whether you are a performer or a spectator, you become a part of the karaoke atmosphere.

Those feelings, however, can be short-lived or even non-existent. Dianne Morissete is a karaoke jockey (KJ) at Bleecher’s, a tiny bar in Maplewood, Minnesota. For nine years she has had a front row seat to the karaoke cultural play. She believes that karaoke can have the effect of camaraderie, but it all depends on the stage you find yourself on. She explained that at Bleecher’s the people are laid back and almost always applaud, no matter how bad the performance is. But if you take yourself downtown, where glamour abounds, you might get booed off the stage. “I have been to a few snooty places,” Morissete said. “I didn’t even want to get up and sing.”

Tracy Flanigan, a former KJ, thinks karaoke is no fun at all. Before her days behind a karaoke console, she use to frequent piano bars. With the arrival of karaoke, the piano bar became a relic from an expiring culture. In piano bars anyone can come up on stage and sing, said Flanigan. “Doesn’t happen much anymore,” she said. “Karaoke is competition, pure and simple.”

Karaoke took a step up to the microphone about 30 years ago in Kobe, Japan. Translated it means “empty orchestra,” from the words karapo (empty) and okesutura (orchestra). No one is really sure how this phenomenon came to be. The widely accepted folklore is that a snack-shop owner plugged in a cassette deck and asked customers to sing along when a scheduled performer didn’t show up. Others insist that its origins can be traced to a 1950s or ’60s American television program where viewers sang along to lyrics on the screen.

Whatever its birthplace, karaoke blossomed into a worldwide phenomenon and now thrives in bars across America and here in the Twin Cities. So if your inner diva (or Kermit the Frog) is beckoning for a chance to shine, don’t worry about missing the high note. Visit one of the many bars that offer karaoke. There’s probably one right down the street.

Here are a few places to pretend you’re a rock star:

The Whiskey Rack - 2112 11th Ave E, N St. Paul; 651.779.0243 (Friday)

Poodle Club - 3001 E Lake St, Mpls.; 612.722.1377 (Tuesday and Wednesday)

U Otter Stop Inn - 617 Central Ave SE, Mpls; 612.331.4169

Grumpy’s - 1111 Washington Ave S, Mpls.; 612.340.9738 (Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday)