And by ‘Sexy’, I mean ‘Sweaty’. And by ‘Sweaty’ I mean ‘Christy Moore in the thick of menopausal hot flashes’ sweaty.
I always dreamt of being a performer growing up, but my voice is not great (think 3am wedding singsong, as opposed to 3pm wedding ceremony standard). I got into the chorus in school and college musicals because, basically, anyone who auditioned got in. I used to look at the girls who got the lead roles and wish for their lungs. Or vocal chords. (Possibly both, I wouldn’t be great on how things work internally …).
I had put that dream to bed and satisfied myself with enjoying the amazing singers I knew in real life and giving emotional sold-out concerts in my car when something fairly magical happened. And now I stand before you as someone who is now paid to sing and perform. I am the Irish Mariah. The non-piano-playing Alicia Keys. I am someone who has ‘gigs’. Here’s the miraculous story of how:
On the last day in November in 2015, I went to an event on behalf of The Down Syndrome Centre, a charity I was working for at the time. It was in the Lisa-Hannigan-and-toasties hipster bar, MVP on Clanbrassil street. (A side note about people like me who are absolute hipsters but still throw around the phrase ‘hipster’: I have made peace with the fact that many parts of my life are full blown third-wave-coffee-movement-drinking-polaroid-photo-taking-secret-influencer-indulging-active-wear-enjoying-knotted-hairband-wearing hipster. However, like all hipsters, I still don’t believe myself to be a hipster. Not a full blown one, anyway.) That night, I stood on a stool and told everyone where their funds would be going and then I shouted along to the full Rumours album with everyone else on the top floor. The event was Sing Along Social and it was life changing.
Now, the Sing Along Social backstory: A few months prior to that life-altering night, the wonder that is Aoife McElwain decided she wanted to mark the 20th anniversary of Alanis Morissette’s ‘Jagged Little Pill’. Chatting with a friend, she joked that they should have brunch and then sing along with the whole album. This turned into her organising an event for a few friends to do just that. Then things exploded, non-literally. Aoife explained what happened next in this Dailyedge inteview: “Soon my guestlist had expanded past the limitations of my kitchen so I got in touch with MVP, a great little boozer around the corner from my house in Dublin 8, to see if they’d be cool with me hosting a ‘Jagged Little Pill’ Sing Along for 30 people. They thought it was gas so when I got the date set I thought, “Sure feck it, I’ll put up a Facebook event to see if anyone else wants to come.” Within a couple of days nearly 1,000 people wanted to come.”
Thus Sing Along Social (and a room of unexpected stars) was born. Jagged Little Pill night was followed by other album-centric evenings. Aoife handed out lyrics booklets and then pressed play. Prizes were given for the best warblers. Everyone sang along at the top of their voice and no-one heard anyone else. It was the chance to perform that all of us nay-very-good singers had waited our whole lives for. This was our Wembley.
Sing Along Social’s popularity has since soared like a soprano’s solo (#singingreference). It’s been the highlight of all the hip hop happening music festivals, used by Universal to promote Mamma Mia II (I swear to god that film is my Citizen Kane) and provided the best party entertainment for national and international organisations. I was one of many regulars who MURDERED the hits of Whitney, Madonna and blasted my inflatable sax along to Careless Whisper every few weeks in the Sugar Club. But all this came with an outrageous workload for Aoife, so she started to need people to help her. Cue all my dreams coming true (complete with bonus boiler suit and cheek glitter uniform).
An ad went up for ‘Craic Mechanic’ applications late last year. I promptly nearly wet myself, didn’t, and then emailed in an application that was 90% me talking about how much I LOVED Sing Along Social and the rest saying I had relevant experience, yadda yadda yadda. And then, akin to Simon Cowell ringing up the Pop Idol finalists in 2004, Aoife called me and I became a bona fide Craic Mechanic (for my non-existent international readers, ‘Craic’ here means a certain type of fun that brings with it divilment and messing.)
I’m one of six Craic Mechanics and the other five are an absolutely brilliant, gas, mad gang (and the fact that they’re all really young never makes me subtly try to cover my wrinkles with glitter and star stickers.)(and I had to learn how to use Slack, lads!). Before each gig we look at the playlist and get the props we need for each song (Inhalers for The Corrs ‘Breathless’, full-sized cardboard boat for Enya’s ‘Orinocco Flow’ or simply 390 inflatable guitars for Aerosmith/ Run DMC’s ‘Walk this Way’.) and then – basically – have the craic with everyone. Lead them in a conga line, make sure they don’t drop Aoife when she crowdsurfs, find the people who have never gotten to enjoy the spotlight and beam it on them full-force (but not forcefully) (important.).
And, as discussed, it gets hot. Imagine lepping around to all eight minutes of Riverdance with the Darby O’Gill-style patriotism of Michael Flatley. Now imagine you’re one of 500 people in a contained space doing it. Shiny, happy people like you wouldn’t believe.
So, you wonderful human, if you’re someone who has a dream (a vocal chords based dream or otherwise), I would truly urge you not to give up. Martin Luther King and Gabrielle were on to something all this time: dreams can come true. People meet their soulmates in the most magical way, the odd person actually does win those ‘Like and share’ Facebook competitions (honestly they do, I met one!) and – against all odds – I get paid to sing in front of hundreds of people every month. Technically. It’s a bit of a stretch but it’s my dream come true moment. And instead of glass slippers, I have glitter Converse. But it still counts.
And listen, I’m a glass of wine in and I’m jumping onto my philosophical high horse now but hear me out; There are lots of jobs that exist today that were unheard of ten years ago. Giant companies have created apps and routines and SHITE we ‘need’ that we don’t actually need that have changed the way people live. Things move quickly. Things change and decisions have to be made. And you have to embrace and accommodate it. And that can have magical results. So I say let go and let magic!
A Dose of Notions 