The tiny room is lit up pink and multicolored hearts dance along the walls. The TV in the corner plays clips of old Korean movies that somewhat relate to the lyrics at the bottom of the screen. One friend is flipping through the laminated program, another’s complaining about her low score. I can barely hear my own thoughts, but then finally, those distinct opening chords play. It’s my turn to sing.
I’m a Filipino who isn’t good at singing.
I unfortunately did not inherit the singing gene that many Filipinos seem to have. Growing up, I tried my best to avoid having to take part in karaoke by myself at family parties. I have zero perception of pitch or tone or notes. But, play “Love” by Keyshia Cole and all my insecurities about singing disappear. I will belt as if I had the talent of Lea Salonga or Mariah Carey or Keyshia Cole.
It was my top song of 2023 according to Apple Music’s Replay, which makes sense. I sang it at home, at school, at birthdays. Now, at any party or event if it comes on, I will make a big show of it and absolutely sing my heart out. It has become more than just a song to me though, it’s also a reminder of all the memories I have associated with it:
Of singing in broad daylight at school in front of the Filipino club. Plates piled of pancit, lumpia, and BBQ sticks. A sign-up sheet full of classic karaoke songs. My friend shaking me by the shoulders and practically screaming as if I’m the boy who broke her heart.
Of puffy eyes post-retreat-talks. Eight of us crammed onto two beds, sharing personal stories. Doing the ‘night hike’ on twenty hours without sleep. And still, everyone singing along.
Of being in the middle of a dance circle at the end of my debut— my eighteenth birthday. Trying not to step on my ruffly purple dress. The venue staff beginning to clean up. My friends swaying side-to-side, singing until the very last second of the song.
I honestly don’t know how or why or when I specifically decided it would be my karaoke song. It’s not easy to sing. It’s not short. I can’t relate to the lyrics, fortunately. Still, I loved it and sang it so often that it became known as my song. But then, I found out how popular it is amongst Filipinos. I knew it was popular in general, but I hadn’t realized Filipinos across the world love this song for karaoke as much as I do. Many even recognize it as a ‘Filipino thing’. Which all now makes so much sense because it is very Filipino. It’s about love, and more specifically heartbreak. The lyrics remind me of the Filipino romance films I watched growing up. It’s dramatic and belty. The arrangement is perfect for a Filipino who can sing well. Honestly, Keyshia Cole might as well be an honorary member of our community. So maybe, that’s why I was drawn to it, why it’s the one song I will sing without caring how I sound.
Karaoke is such a Filipino staple that I even have a go-to song. I mean with a family like mine, it’s nearly impossible not to. My four-year-old cousin has been obsessed with karaoke pretty much since he could hold a mic. Each household has a Magic Sing karaoke machine so at every get-together it’s expected to have a karaoke session. When I visited the Philippines for a family reunion, it seemed like we were outside doing karaoke every night. After that trip, my older cousin’s song became “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley because he can do a pretty good voice impression. Everyone is encouraged to sing no matter their ability. Like although I don’t think I sound great, my mom or aunties will endlessly tell me I can sing and did ‘wonderful’. It really just brings the whole family together. So contrary to how it seems, karaoke is not about showing off. Just like “Love” reminds me of all the times I’ve sung it, karaoke is simply a way for us to bond and make memories— many of us just so happen to be talented singers too.
So though I can’t sing as well as my relatives or friends, I do carry the ability to connect through singing and recognize a good karaoke song anywhere.
Listen: Love, by Keyshia Cole
