A year ago, I was alone in my room, singing a karaoke duet of Ween’s “Ocean Man” with a man in his bathtub. From what I could see, there are 5 rubber duckies floating in the tub, while one rests on the ledge behind him next to a bar of soap.
DannyJJ14: Hello, hello. Bathtub karaoke right here.
He has what sounds like a British accent. DannyJJ14 picks up a rubber duckie and we get into the song. He starts first, I follow. He mouths my parts of the duet silently as I sing them. We’ve never met, he’s maybe never even seen this duet.
There’s a pleasure in singing with online strangers. Every time I go to do a new duet, I’m not sure what I’m going to get. Are they a good singer? Will they provide commentary throughout the song? What sort of wacky visual effects did they decide to choose? Are they in their car? Will they say “thanks for joining” at the end of the video and wave? There are times I’ll stop recording if someone clearly doesn’t have a great grasp on the song, but generally, I’m just along for the ride.
I’ve been thinking about where I go to “get away” online and what that even means or if that’s even possible. I touch on this a bit in notes on shitposting, but want to take it one step further, into a more remote corner of the Internet: the Karaoke App Smule.
Smule is a phone application that allows users to record themselves doing karaoke. It is free to use, and you’re able to search for nearly any popular song and then record your rendition of it. Renditions can feature video or be audio only (for those that are shy <3). There are a variety of vocal and visual filters to choose from: punchy, pro studio, new wave, center stage, smush, indie, landline, grunge, chipmunk.
Of course, like any phone game or slightly scammy app—I really feel like I’m one wrong click away from accidentally downloading a virus on Smule—there are restrictions and stipulations that end up shaping its functionality. For example, VIP users ($19.99 a month or $49.99 a year) are the only users allowed to record solo renditions of karaoke songs; everyone else has to join a pre-existing duet created by a VIP.
The VIPs set the tone. If there’s a song I want to do, but no VIP has recorded themselves singing the first half of a duet in the past week (duet invitations expire after 7 days), I can’t sing it. Smule relies on this interplay between VIP and non-VIP and is almost entirely made up of these separately recorded, then spliced together duets.
There are other unspoken codes of conduct on the platform. You need headphones in order for the audio to record properly, but bluetooth headphones create a weird delay. The best headphones to use end up being the cheap wired iPhone earbuds that come with your phone upon purchase. These headphones are optimal because they interfere the least with your hair and appearance and also have a little microphone you can directly sing into. Often, you’ll see Smule users moving the microphone an appropriate distance so they don’t sound blown out. This wiggling and holding of the headphone wire creates a beautiful gesture unique to the app. Last summer, when I lost my pair of wired earbuds, I promptly repurchased them solely so I could keep recording Smule videos.
I’ve been using Smule since 2018. I’m no stranger to singing on the Internet, so it felt like a natural move on my part. I’m not sure how I first heard about it, or ended up there, because the thing about Smule is…No one I know is on it. Or if they are, we aren’t looking for each other.
The appeal of a platform like Smule isn’t necessarily that I don’t have online friends there (it could be fun if we were all over there), but rather that it allows for a no-strings-attached style catharsis. Doing a duet with a complete stranger gives me the same feeling that singing really loudly in the passenger seat of a car with a friend gives me. I don’t have to be good at it. It’s simply the act of singing in a somewhat low pressure environment. I could just walk around my apartment singing to myself and not record it, but I need to give that little bit of a performance, even if no one watches it, for it to really hit.
I was recently gifted a 5 day VIP upgrade by the user StaceyReadRichar after doing a duet of Concrete Blonde’s “Joey” with her. With my newfound power, I rushed to do some solo karaoke for the first time on Smule, prioritizing songs I had always wanted to do, but weren’t as popular with VIPs. All in all, I recorded six solo renditions, but it felt sort of lonely. It turns out, the joy of the app lies in its restrictions.
Usually, VIPs will comment on the duet, thanking you for joining. Most comments include an excessive use of emojis. There’s something endearing about it, all of us being sort of bad at singing and sort of bad at using the Internet but just doing it anyway.
PC_burgandy01: Nice job on this! 😎👍🔥🙏🙏…sorry for the screwups (comment on duet of Where Have All The Cowboys Gone? - Paula Cole)
NinjaMary: yess!! Such a good duet!! Thank you for singing with me!!! 🤩🤩🙌🙌🔥🔥😍👏 (comment on duet of Adia - Sarah McLachlan)
peteypablo205: hell yeah 🤘🤘🙏🙏 (comment on duet of Meant to Live - Switchfoot)