“I used to hang out at karaoke bars all the time. It was the most fun you could have when you had no money.”
– Jeremy Renner, American actor
MY friend, Datuk Yong Soo Heong, the president of the Malaysian Press Institute, forwarded an interesting article from the Weekly Echo to me over the weekend.
I am pleased to receive regular updates in the Weekly Echo from Yong, a seasoned journalist who also serves as its editor-in-chief.
The latest piece was quite different from the usual posts – focusing on casual crooning and karaoke. This has prompted me to write about the topic this week.
The article titled ‘At 78, I Found My Cure in Karaoke’ shared a secret by the writer, Dr Rahim Said, about his miraculous survival at the age of 78: karaoke.
Yes, karaoke! As a fan of that musical system known as “empty orchestra” myself, I resonate with Rahim’s perspective on how crooning can also serve as a form of exercise, at least for the lungs.
(A quick online search reveals that the term ‘karaoke’ originates from Japanese: ‘kara’ meaning ’empty’ and ‘oke’ is short for ‘okesutora’ (orchestra). Combined, ‘kara-oke’ literally translates to ’empty orchestra’ – music without the lead singer.)
In his writing, Rahim expressed, “While some retirees stroll in the park or knit sweaters, I sing Neil Sedaka’s ‘You mean everything to me’ as if it were a medical prescription. P Ramlee’s ‘Getaran Jiwa’? My vitamin C. And Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘Love Changes Everything’? That’s my group therapy session with diehard crooners who believe hitting high notes equals eternal youth.
“My wife Azi indulges me, although my children wisely keep their distance from this weekly spectacle. Who can blame them? Nobody wants to see their father pretending he’s Sedaka while forgetting half the lyrics.
“But here’s the twist: karaoke is not just singing. It’s therapy disguised as noise pollution. After a week of composing cynical columns, debating politics at the mosque, and feigning to fast from carbs (well, at least 12 hours overnight), this is how I unwind. Cheaper than therapy, louder than prayer, and possibly as effective as any magnesium tablet.”
Rahim’s article on karaoke crooning as a form of exercise was a refreshing read. It is not often that we consider singing our hearts out to favourite tunes as something that can contribute to physical health. How many of us have pondered that?
Rahim’s piece, though brief, was entertaining yet informative in highlighting how karaoke sessions can aid in breathing, posture, and stress relief.
It served as a reminder that exercise does not always have to involve treadmills or dumbbells. Sometimes, simply singing a song with enthusiasm can be a workout in itself.
What made the article distinctive was its novelty. Unlike the typical links and forwarded pieces that often cover predictable topics, this one offered something unique and enjoyable.
It blended fun with practicality, demonstrating how a pastime associated with leisure could also serve as a health booster.
Indeed, singing as a pastime is enjoyable, and I am fortunate to have a group of friends who share the same hobby. It does not matter if you are only a shower singer. In a karaoke room, nobody is a professional vocalist.
Receiving such an article from Yong was not only surprising but also engaging – it added both knowledge and cheer to the day.
Before the advent of karaoke, reportedly a Japanese invention, there existed an earlier form of singing where lyrics were displayed on a screen via PowerPoint.
I had my first encounter with singing through this early makeshift ‘karaoke’ in a Manila pub in the early 80s, around 1981. All you needed was a keyboard player, and you would sing along with the lyrics on the screen.
You could pretend to be a band member and revel in the experience. Filipinos are renowned for their musical and vocal talents, and their skills continue to grace Malaysian pubs, lounges, and other entertainment venues.
After the emergence of karaoke in the 80s, it spread across Asia in the 1980s and globally in the 1990s, evolving into the bar, club, and home entertainment culture we recognise today.
Apart from the breathing exercise, karaoke crooning also offers additional benefits.
The laughter, the cheers from friends, and even the occasional off-key howls all collaborate to drive stress away. No gym membership required, no personal trainer peering over your shoulder – just a machine, a microphone, and a willingness to unwind.
While karaoke may never be featured in a fitness manual, for the casual crooner, it is a lighthearted way to keep the lungs active, the spirits high, and the evenings entertaining.
As Rahim concluded, “If you’re seeking the secret to longevity, don’t bother with green smoothies or yoga mats. Just grab a microphone, a dodgy backing track, and a forgiving audience.
“Trust me – your blood pressure may not improve, but your stress levels will dissipate quicker than you can say ‘Good Evening Kuala Lumpur’.”
Thank you, Dr Rahim Said, for the delightful and entertaining article.
• Francis Paul Siah is a veteran newspaper editor and currently heads the Movement for Change, Sarawak (MoCS).
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at sirsiah@gmail.com.
