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Jonathan Richman - I Was Dancing In A Lesbian Bar



Jonathan Richman's I Was Dancing In A Lesbian Bar reminds me of last night.

Yesterday was my birthday. In typical fashion, after my responsibilities as husband and father were lovingly fulfilled and the sun had set on the quiet suburbs of Portland, I drove straight into the city for some karaoke. Throughout the evening I sang three songs and danced harder than I have in years.

In Richman's song, the protagonist finds himself feeling like an outsider at a night club. The clientele is too cool to dance and less than welcoming. Soon he is invited to go dancing in a new spot by some kind strangers. They lead him to a lesbian bar that is the polar opposite of the first club. Everybody's dancing and having a good time. Richman has found a place of belonging in the most unlikely setting. That's how I felt at the karaoke club last night. I've been in literally hundreds of karaoke bars in a handful of countries. As a first-timer, singers can be met with indifference, exclusivity and even hostility. Once, in college, I was nearly beaten up for singing Spice Girl's Wannabe. The irate protestor had to be removed from the club. Last night, however, I found a bar where "things were done my way."

I came out of the gates strong with Erasure's hateful ode to heartbreak, I Love To Hate You. The club was mostly empty at that point. A few spectators looked on curiously and grinned at the sight of my theatrics and attempt at vocal histrionics. Shortly after, droves of people started arriving. Between songs, the DJ played dance music - some new, some old. Soon the dance floor was packed. At first this seemed like a distraction and extended the wait time for singing songs. However, within a few songs, I too joined the cabaret (at my friend's behest) and was getting down to Flo Rida's Low. By the time I took the stage to sing my second song, The Darkness' I Believe In A Thing Called Love, I had difficulty hitting the falsetto in the first chorus. After a somewhat shaky start I regained control vocally and was able to belt out "Just listen to the rhythm of my heart!" with confidence. As I expected, the song was a hit. As a general rule, karaoke crowds appreciate male falsetto (even if you botch it). An older gentleman at the bar inquired, "Were you singing a Scissor Sisters song?" I responded, "No. The Darkness," which made little sense to him. By the time I sang my last tune, Toto's Africa, the dance floor was packed. Club goers were lined up along the front of the stage screaming the lyrics and waving their arms like they were at a concert. This was the most enthusiastically supportive karaoke crowd I've ever experienced. With each song, the dance floor grew increasingly more friendly. Every singer was greeted with rabid applause and treated like a star.

"Well in the first bar things were controlled
But in this bar things were Rock and Roll!
In the first bar things were so controlled
In this bar things were way way bold"


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