Sing It Softer...Now Slower...Ok, Just Better

In a few days our Robertson group will embark on the Green Summer campaign in the Ben Tre province of Viet Nam. We'll be working with Vietnamese students to contribute to the community by building homes, teaching English to kids, and doing general, per-request fixer-up work in the town.

I'm very excited about the upcoming work, and I'm also interested to see the Ben Tre province from which my beloved roommate, Tram, hails. However, there are certain obstacles that we've had to overcome in order to participate in this program.

First, we're informed that the director of the Green Summer campaign is throwing an auspicious kick-off ceremony featuring multiple dance and musical groups and speeches. There will be 25,000 people in attendance and a televised recording to celebrate Green Summer's start. Yay!

Second, we're informed that we are going to be one of those dance and musical groups in front of that 25,000 and televised audience. And that if we choose not to contribute our musical abilities, we won't get to participate in the Green Summer campaign and will ruin chances of involvement for the Robertson Program as long as the director is the director.

WHAT. RIDICULOUS. LEVERAGE.

You'll kindly remember our stressful but successful performance for the IYC program (see earlier post), and how on the day of the event we threw together a better-than-decent rendition of "Seasons of Love" and moved around enthusiastically on-stage in an imitation of dancing.

OK, we think. For this Green Summer business we can just do that again.
No, we're told. The director was something "more formal," "practiced" and "maybe wearing uniforms". Nevermind that we're not professionals and at least one of us (me) doesn't have a lick of dancing ability.

After protesting vehemently and explaining repeatedly that we are not a professional group and would just do the best we could, the director relented. OK, we're told, the group doesn't have to perform. But Tom and Susie, the two soloists from the IYC performance that the director happened to have attended, will perform. And it will be good, it will be practiced, it will be entertaining and professional.

Tom and I are somewhat chafing under these surreal demands. How can someone in a position of importance such as director of the Green Summer campaign enforce such demands on guests who clearly aren't musical pros and just here to study and do community work? It takes a very special, puerile show-off, that's how. Just guess the song this guy has the nerve to request/command us to sing.

You are my fire
My one desire
Believe when I say
I want it that way


Heck yes, I'm serious. Tom and I will be performing the Backstreet Boys' once-upon-a-time hit, "I Want It That Way." Well, I for one do not "want it that way." Incredulous queries met with the mantra that if we don't sing and cause trouble, there'll be no Green Summer.

Tom and I reconcile to the idea and agree, we'll impersonate a former band of four males who sing like females with lyrics a three-year-old ought to have no trouble with. We'll take one for the team.

On Tuesday evening, we left class early to go rehearse with the band. This isn't so bad, we think. We'll get to practice with a band, see the venue, get a feel for setting up our performance on Friday. What does 25,000 seats even look like?

Our taxicab takes us to the address, stopping in front of a small clothing store. Huh?

Through the clothing store we walk, coming into a small recording studio. A recording booth stands in the corner as a Vietnamese rock-chick screams out lyrics into a mike, ears covered with giant plush headphones like an airplane pilot would use.

A savvy, gelled-and-mulleted man nimbly adjusts dials on a recording machine, watching neon sound waves travel across his computer monitor. Oh yeah, we're really in a recording studio, one of the worst torture chambers for a musician, because you hear your voice over...and over...and over...







When the singer was finished in the booth, Tom and I were told we'd be making a recording because, since we'd let them know we weren't professional, if anything went wrong on Friday we'd having this recording. Oh, and didn't we know we were lip-synching?? And please, you both can't sing together. After singing: would Susie please go lower, and would Tom sing that "tell me why" just a few more piercing pitches higher, maybe fifty times more?

We're also told, in frustrated, broken English, to just try...try to sing it...BETTER?







The best part of the evening: after an hour and a half of annoying lyrics sung soulfully in a sweltering sound booth filled with black egg-crate-covered walls, Tom's voice gave a terrified jump in the midst of "tell me why." Immediately the man at the controls put this embarrassing clip on a loop and played it over and over. The guys at the controls threw back their heads ad laughed uproariously, singing along an accented "tell me why", mocking Tom mercilessly.




Torture. Torquemada would be proud. We've reached beyond the heights of ridiculous and falsely said we "wanted it that way." Luckily Tom has a saint's patience and the good nature of good nature itself.









After creating an unusual but satisfactory version of the song and discovering a newfound admiration for remixing pop, we relaxed at Pho 2000, a franchise proud to have served former Pres. Bill Clinton. Very hearty pho there--we'll be back. I'll keep you posted on our Friday evening performance in front of the 25,000 on HTV (popular Vietnamese station). Please keep us in your prayers and send us all the pop mojo you've got.