I Had No Idea It Was Karaoke

Last night, some of my friends and I got together to watch A&M’s Basketball team play OSU at a relatively new venue in Houston called Scott Gertner’s Sports Bar and Grille. (The original Scott Bertner restaurant is a Jazz club called Sky Bar.) The beer was reasonable, but the wings were terrible, not hot at all (not even close), not wet, and breaded. The staff, however, was wonderful and attentive. They put our game on the biggest screen in HD and I really could not have asked for more from a bar.

But the big screen did not make the evening memorable, the live entertainment made the outing… er… Interesting.

Keep in mind, this is a sports bar.

The one man band was sitting at the grand piano, a synthesizer placed on top, and an Apple iBook sitting to his right. He mostly played the synthesizer and used the laptop for his backup music and vocals (you should start to get worried at this point). Not only was a synthesizer involved, but the songs he played… Oh the agony! The humanity!

He played Brandi, Papa Was A Rolling Stone, a really bad Chicago song, and other horrible stuff I had never heard of. The songs were not that bad, but imagine Papa Was A Rolling Stone as light Jazz. For a brief moment, I thought my head was going to explode.

I thought he was like Ross from Friends. Then, I considered that he was actually more like Bill Murray in the SNL skit where he is a lounge lizard and the words to all the songs are “Star Wars, nothing but Star Wars…”

He was so out of place that we were trying to figure out where this guy would actually fit in. Mr. Rochester was the winner: He said the guy could be a lounge singer on a cruise ship. Perfect.

To Sum: Scott Gertner needs to know that light Jazz and sports do not mix and the wings definitely need to be better.

–Jane, might go back as long as the music is different and I am not hungry

One thought on “I Had No Idea It Was Karaoke

  • January 13, 2006 at 2:44 pm
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    You happened to mention the only decent songs that he chose to play. However, he butchered them completely. To just say they were sung to a light jazz tune does not do justice the abomination he made out of those songs. The rest of the songs would have been unbearable if the game wasn’t such a nailbiter or if he didn’t take breaks.

    The black turtle neck sweater with the gray sports coat didn’t help make him look out of place in this “sports” bar.

    Mr. Rochester

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