I’m what you call a medium singer. No, not a chanteuse for spirits. I mean that I’m not a bad singer or a great singer, but just… medium. You know… I can sing, but I don’t have impressive vocal agility, an angelic tone, or versatile range. My voice does the job, if not a little plain. I sound like I grew up singing in church, but not a Black one. You can hear the solfege when I sing. You wouldn’t be intimidated to follow me in karaoke; rather, you’d feel emboldened to grab a second mic and sing along during my solo. Now, I’m not asking for pity. But I want to bring attention to the pitiable fact that medium singers are oppressed, invisibilized, and disillusioned.
Great singers belt, riff, and run the world, while only representing 1% of the population, I’m guessing. Yet, despite only comprising a small fraction, this anointed few disproportionately get all the best karaoke songs– incredible, moving show-stoppers, such as “I Have Nothing”, “Bohemian Rhapsody”, and “All By Myself.” Permission to perform this caliber of song is highly-selective and restricted to this elite voice club. Consequently, this wealth hoarding results in impoverishing lesser singers. Medium singers and bad singers make up the remaining 99%, I think, yet collectively only have access to the poorest selections: mostly patter songs and dance bops. Do you know how sad it is to sing a song that you’re meant to dance to? As great singers feast on anthems and power ballads, the masses are starving.
One might assume the most disadvantaged at karaoke are bad singers. But in actuality, they rank higher than us mediums. This is because, like many caste systems, status isn’t based on merit, it’s socially constructed. In this case, bad singers are granted provisional access to great songs if they serve the interests of the oppressor. Their mere courage to participate, despite their shortcomings, delights the singing elite. Even if their voice trembles or cracks, even if they can’t find the note, their audaciousness is meant to be inspiring. They make karaoke entertaining and conditional proximity to greatness, all while unwittingly acting as pawns in their own oppression. Everyone gathers when my Tito Gary croons “Tennessee Whiskey” after a few dozen drinks, but once he sobers up, it’s “Tennes-see you later!” On the other hand, compared to great singers and bad ones, medium singers get no praise for talent or bravery. When it’s our turn at karaoke, everyone takes it as their cue to flip through the song binder, take a bathroom break, or chime through a Duolingo Spanish lesson. Medium singers are constantly ignored. We are the dark matter in a night sky full of stars. We are the fruit at a buffet. We are your middle children. Our voices leave as strong an impression as silence.
If the system is so broken, you might ask, why don’t medium singers compromise themselves for clout? Why not assimilate into a bad singer class by deliberately singing off-key? How dare you? That suggestion is more tone-deaf than my drunk uncle Gary. We still have our integrity, as well as a pesky thing called “hope.” After all, this nation was founded on the belief that, with hard work, every singer could achieve a better future for themselves– the “American-Idol Dream.” Medium singers strive because of the notion that we, too, can one day become great. The ugly truth is the American-Idol dream is a fiction. No matter how much I practice or train, I’ll never be a great singer. I’ve done scales the height of Everest. I’ve watched every “Breaking Down the Riffs” video, and the only thing that’s broken down is me. I’ve logged 10,000 hours trying to sound like Yebba, but it’ll nebba happen. To justify song hoarding and class division, the system requires people to believe in this fiction. And, though I should know better, I still do.
Urgent attention must be paid to the disenfranchisement, marginalization, and melancholia medium singers face. Though it is never a good idea to compete in the Oppression Olympics, it’s patently obvious that medium singers would be the most oppressed class of all, probably. And I know what you’re thinking: “The world doesn’t revolve around karaoke.” And I say, you’re wrong. There is, however, hope for medium singers; a key change we can believe in. Across the nation, in towns large and small, medium singers are working to overturn these oppressive systems. Our goal: to redistribute the best songs equitably amongst all people. To make our voices heard. To imagine a world where singing whatever we want isn’t a privilege but a right. So, in conclusion, this is my rendition of “Golden” from KPop Demon Hunters. And don’t even think about grabbing the second mic.