Amateur Hour: Rising Star

By Tod Caviness and T.I. Fraser

April 9, 2008

Amateur Hour: Rising Star

Lost among the fliers for next week's electrofad hip-hop night and martini bar swizzle sticks is a form of entertainment that's so hip there's not even an English word for it.

Join Metromix Orlando's stalwart undercover operatives as we explore the dark underbelly of Orlando's karaoke scene, one dive at a time.

T.I. Fraser: I have returned to the "Hour of the Amateur" in order to lay the smackdown on a certain injustice now plaguing Orlando’s karaoke scene. Rising Star is CityWalk’s attempt to move karaoke from the neon-lit shadows into theme-park style safety. And, like all mad scientist plots, this attempt has created a perverted abomination, personified in something called… D-Nasty!

Tod Caviness: I see Rising Star as a bold new step in the evolution of karaoke. Seeing a drunk shoe salesman mumble his way through “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” is torture, but seeing him do it in front of a live band with dancing girls? That’s entertainment. Now all we have to do is get the band equally drunk. And the dancing girls. And let that drunk shoe salesman host instead of D-Nasty. See? Constructive criticism.

Décor
T.I.:
Things go wrong past the entrance (actually at the entrance if you count the cover). The set-up is that of a dinner theatre - separate tables, separate sections, very spread apart. Thus Rising Star robs karaoke’s noble art of its intimacy and turns it into a show. Add to that the layout of the stage, with backup singers and a drum shield, and you have an experience that overshadows instead of embarrasses.

Tod: It’s a big place for a big production, complete with (it must be said) some superb sound quality. I recommend going up to the balcony so you can look down the dancing girls’ dresses. And maybe vomit on anyone who sings “Before He Cheats.”

T.I.: Superb sound quality. Piffle. Where do they expect the painful feedback moments to come from?

Clientele
T.I.
: Imagine walking into the D&D club in high school and finding it’s been taken over by jocks and their girlfriends. And they’ve changed the rules so no one can ever die and ever orc you slay gets you a new magic sword. This is karaoke for high rollers. In the first hour, almost all the participants were taken from a V.I.P. section, some two or three times.

Tod: This isn’t the first time I’ve blamed American Idol for the ruination of karaoke (and American politics, but that’s a different argument). It’s enough for the Irish to get drunk and sing badly, but no: we all gotta be five-octave Superstars.

T.I.: But the real lesson in American Idol is that some people suck! Why can’t we learn that?

Drinks
T.I.:
To serve me domestic draft from an 8-oz. “fun size” cup for $3.75 PLUS TAX is insult enough. But then to say on the check that these are 14-oz. cups?!? Now you got a lawsuit on your hands.

Tod: Here’s a good benchmark: if I am not singing along to “Sweet Caroline,” you are not giving me enough beer.

Song Selection
T.I.:
Since it is a live band, it’s hard to fault them for a 60-song set-list of pretty standard favorites (if not still absent things like “Total Eclipse of the Heart”). But I do hope they take my suggestion to at least add Nick Cave’s “Stagger Lee” or 2 Live Crew’s “Put in the Buck.”

Tod: Give us Ice Cube’s “Steady Mobbin’”! Iron Maiden’s “Number of the Beast”! Yeah, those suggestion slips were a nice touch. I don’t think my vote will count, but that’s never stopped me before.

Talent
T.I.:
D-Nasty, one of two hosts that we saw, came to sum up the whole shebang. Blonde faux-hawk, suit coat over T-shirt, and the audience rapport of a birthday clown, he made the whole thing feel so tightly controlled that it lacked the spontaneity one expects from alcoholics with microphones. Hence my rant against right-wing values and the venue itself during “What’s Up?” Sorry to everyone who saw that and felt I might have treated Iraq a little lightly for my own ends.

Tod: To paraphrase Randy Jackson: It was a little bitchy, dawg. It was also the most entertaining thing I saw all night. Not that the two wasted co-eds booty dancing their way through “Love is a Battlefield” wasn’t great, but I can get that kind of thing at Chillers.

T.I.: Then those two got on stage and … sexed up D-Nasty. All is lost.

VIDEO

RELATED LINKS