Advice for Awkward People
I’m a man with a smooth, buttery, crystal-clear voice. When I was growing up, I always sang for my parents and my siblings and at church sometimes, and tens of people have told me that they loved my voice. I even have a YouTube channel where I get tens of hits a month. My problem is that nobody in Pittsburgh wants me. I auditioned for literally every single singing group on campus, and even some off-campus. I tried to get into a cappella groups, choirs, and even some high-quality voice lessons, but I’ve been shunned at every angle. I think that maybe people are intimidated of my dulcet, creamy tones, and that’s why they rejected me — they didn’t want me taking all of the spotlights, obviously. I mean, I expected people to be less selfish and appreciate amazing talent when they see it, but I guess that’s not a valid expectation.
The most notable example I can remember is when I had my audition with a group that shall remain nameless, and by the end of my audition, the judging members were so touched by the beauty and the majesty and the incredible power of my voice that they were speechless. I waited outside the door and listened as they deliberated, and they were so severe in their biased critiques of the sensuous jiggling of my vocal chords that I knew immediately that they were threatened by me. I love to sing, but I can’t find a group that’s up to my caliber. Do you have any advice? I have included a recording of myself singing “Rolling in the Deep” with my signature roller-derby-punk-gospel-fusion style, for reference.
Totally Offended, Never Enough,
Dulcet, Euphonious, Awesome Fellow.
Dear TONE DEAF,
Since this is a newspaper, we cannot publish sound clips. I listened to your track, and I have some tough love for you: You are an objectively bad singer. You’re off pitch, your tone is strange, and it’s usually frowned upon to mimic whale calls in a Mickey Mouse falsetto. Your voice is some kind of mix between Crazy Frog, Nicki Minaj, and the Keebler Elf. It’s unpleasant. That’s just the fact of the matter. I may be serving you some Simon Cowell realness right now, but it comes from a place of honesty and compassion. If you really are dead-set on performing, I would take some intensive voice lessons over the next few years. If you work hard enough, I believe that one day, you may well be able to call yourself a singer. Also, it wouldn’t help to have some humility, hun. Even if you were a phenomenal singer, nobody wants to work with someone who thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips.