I have been meaning to write about this for about a month or so.  It was right around that time that I, along with two long time friends, got together in my garage to jam with a wonderfully talented, up and coming musician.  I am, of course, speaking about my nephew, Jordan.  This kid is only in 8th grade, and he is a better guitar player than most of the adult musicians I know.  He is also one of Metallica’s biggest fans.  I mean he knows every song, off of every album, dating back to Kill ‘Em All back in the early 1980s.  In order to conduct a successful jam session involving only Metallica songs, I had to enlist two of the best guys I know at playing that style of music.  I called my good friends and former band mates, Alex Wilcox (bassist) and Eric Skertich (drummer) to sit in on the session.  Alex, Eric and I used to play in a band together in high school called Proteus.  (yeah…we thought that was a cool name…it was a Greek god or something…to us, it sounded “metal,” so that’s all that mattered) In that band, we mainly played Metallica songs, in addition to the original music we wrote.

So there we all were, in the garage, getting ready to start the first song.  Jordan asked, “So what should we start with?”  I looked over at him and said, “How about Enter Sandman?” He replied, “Let’s do it.”  And away we went…playing Enter Sandman, and then moving on to other Metallica songs like Master of Puppets, Sanitarium, Seek and Destroy and Fade to Black.  I remember looking over at Jordan throughout the practice and thinking how proud I was to be his Uncle.  This was his first time jamming with an entire band, so I wasn’t sure how he would adjust to the different dynamic.  Not surprising to me at all, he played like a true professional.  It was almost like he had been doing this for years and years.  He confidently stepped up and took on solos in songs like Fade to Black and Sanitarium with greatest of ease.  He was in his natural element…lost in the music…lost in the moment.  Most people might think, because Jordan is my nephew, that I taught him how to play.  I wish that was the case.  The truth is that he is completely self taught.  Believe me when I say I have tried to teach him, but stubbornness seems to come along with those who are extremely talented.  He has always opted to learn himself.  Although I wish he would let me work with him in further developing his skills, I also respect his wishes and will continue to support his decision of learning on his own.  He definitely has the gift.

It is amazing how fast time goes.  I mean it really goes fast!  Don’t you agree?  It seems like time moves even faster as the years go by.  It seemed like my childhood lasted forever.  From kindergarten to my senior year of high school seemed like an entire lifetime, but everything afterwards is a blur.  I wonder why that is.  I think it because we never paid attention to time as kids.  All we cared about was the moment, and we weren’t worried about anything else.  For two hours in my garage that day, we were ALL kids playing the music we loved.  We were all lost in the moment.  When I looked over at Alex and Eric, so many memories came running back to me.  Although we may not play in bands together at this time, I still saw my true band mates…my brothers for life.  When I looked over at Jordan, I saw a shining star who is just getting started.  As he stood there with his shaggy hair wearing his Metallica t-shirt, I could see the hope and ambition in his eyes.  Although we never know what road lies ahead of us, I know he will be successful as long he he keeps on doing what he loves…music.  I just hope that he gives me some money when he is a rich and famous musician.

When I was in 8th grade, I remember packing up my guitar and amplifier into my parent’s mini-van.  I remember how excited I was to be going to my first band practice.  As my dad drove me there, I remember the anticipation of actually starting a band for the first time.  As we pulled up into the driveway, out of the garage came my friend, Eric.  We unloaded the equipment out of the van, and my dad told me he would be back to pick me up in a few hours.  Wearing our Metallica t-shirts, we set up our equipment and checked our volumes.  Finally, we were ready to begin this journey.  I looked over at Eric and asked, “What should be start with?”  He replied, “How about Enter Sandman?”  The rest is history.

As I will remember that day for the rest of my life, I know I will always remember the day we jammed with Jordan in  my garage.  For Jordan, it marks the beginning of a wonderful journey to come.  For Alex, Eric and myself, it was two hours where time stood still.  We were kids again, playing loud music in the garage, just waiting for one of the neighbors to call the cops.  It was glorious.

As I sat down to try out a guitar that I couldn’t afford, I noticed a couple of proud parents looking at a guitar with their son.  In any other situation, I would have looked the other way and began to play some obnoxiously loud Metallica riffs in hopes of pissing off the other shredders occupying the guitar section.  However, in this case, I found myself focused on the fact that these parents had just handed a $3000 Gibson Les Paul Custom to a kid that couldn’t have been more than 13 years old.  Although I was dumbfounded (and jealous because I want that guitar!!!), I thought to myself…maybe this kid is a prodigy and needs an awesome guitar to get to an even higher level.  Well, once the kid started to play, it was clear that he was a beginner.  He played a few chords and riffs reminiscent of someone who has been playing for maybe 6 months or so.  I am not saying anything bad at all about his playing, I am just trying to help better paint a picture.  To put it simply, this was a novice guitarist playing a $3000 guitar, which, on the surface, seemed absurd to me.  Then faster than I could say, “Are you f”’ing kidding me,” the parents bought the guitar and the kid walked out of the store with it.  The whole experience seemed to last shorter than the time it took the dude at the door to check the receipt and serial number of the guitar.  (Guitar Center customer inside joke)

Lots of thoughts began running through my head…What the hell kind of parents buy their 13 year old kid a $3000 guitar?  Did these parents do something bad to the kid and felt like they had to make up for it?  Is this just a spoiled brat who gets everything he wants?  Had I taken a closer look at the parents, would I have realized that it was actually Jeff Beck just buying his grandson a birthday present?  Whatever the case, I only knew two things at that moment for sure…1) I am going to feel a lot better when I drive across the street to Potbellys and get a roast beef on regular with everything…light peppers and 2) No matter what the situation is, no kid at that age and experience level deserves a $3000 guitar!

I am not sure where people get their sense of entitlement.  What ever happened to earning something?  Since I started playing guitar, I always had my eye on a Les Paul guitar.  A lot of my idols played that kind of guitar, and I remember dreaming that I would have one someday.  That dream always seemed unreachable due to the fact that Les Paul guitars cost a lot of money.  I did eventually get a Les Paul after I had been playing guitar for 11 years, and it was definitely worth the wait.  Most importantly…I earned it and I appreciated it.  Here is my story…

I began playing guitar at the age of 7.  My mom bought me a Harmony guitar/amp combo from one of her catalogs, and later in life, I think she ended up telling me it cost around $50.  The equivalent these days would cost about $150.  It was a good guitar for a beginner to have.  At 7 years old, I fiddled around with the guitar more than anything.  I did not get formal training until I was a bit older.  I remember reading a book that came with the guitar and teaching myself a few chords.  I didn’t start receiving guitar lessons until I was 9 years old.  I took lessons for about 6 months until my family and I moved back to Indiana.  By that time, I had already played in my 4th grade talent show and was writing songs about such controversial subjects such as cookies and Santa Clause…lol.  During this whole time I was still playing the same guitar my mom bought me at age 7.  At 10 years old, my first guitar finally fell apart…literally.  For my birthday or Christmas, my parents were nice enough to buy me a new guitar.  It was a white Ibanez that cost $150.  I remember how excited I was to have a new guitar and play it in my 5th grade talent show.  At 12 years old, I began taking guitar lessons once again.  I practiced everyday after school, and at age 13, I played my white Ibanez in my 7th grade talent show.  At the end of 7th grade, my guitar teacher had finished teaching me all that he knew and told me it was time to move on.  To congratulate me on graduating from guitar lessons, my parents bought me a Fender Squier with a Floyd Rose Locking tremolo bridge.  I think it cost them around $350.  I had started jamming with a drummer around that time, so I had needed to upgrade to a better, more durable guitar.  I used that Fender guitar to play the Star Spangled Banner and kick off the 8th grade talent show.  I also spent a lot of time jamming with a drummer friend of mine at various parties.  At the end of 8th grade, I formed my first band with a couple of friends from school.  We played private parties for free and jammed in the basement three times a week.  A couple of years later, I decided to take some birthday and allowance money to purchase a black, offset V guitar, for purposes of playing in our heavy metal band called Proteus.  (We thought that was a cool name at the time)  We played talent shows, open mics and private parties.  We also recorded a demo tape.  After our band eventually broke up, I formed another band my junior year of high school.  We played more of an alternative style of music, so I bought a guitar from my friend’s dad that better suited our style and image.  I remember paying around $500 for that guitar.  It was a 1972 Hagstrom, and I was thrilled to own it.  By this time, I was already earning my own money from landscaping in the summers and working at McDonalds during the school year.  Our new band was called Krooked Minds.  We recorded three demo tapes, as well as played lots of paying shows at festivals and bars.  We even played the Taste of Chicago in 1995 and the Rivera in Chicago in 1996.  I finally turned 18 years old, and started thinking about a way to purchase the dream guitar I could never afford.  Right after my high school graduation, I took the $900 I received in gift money from my graduation party and another $900 I had saved, and I bought myself a black Les Paul Standard for $1800.  I still play that guitar to this day.  The guitar was more than just a material object.  To me, it symbolized the culmination of so many years of hard work and dedication in becoming a musician.  The real reward to me was obtaining invaluable knowledge and experience, as well as earning respect for myself while gaining respect from others.

The reason I told this story is because I feel like people, in so many facets of life, desire the reward (whether it be respect, pride, etc… or something tangible) but aren’t willing to work for it.  In some cases, there are those who may be willing to sacrifice, but they want the reward upfront, like a down payment.  It should never work that way.  It should all begin with hard work and effort.  All of that hard work will eventually pay off and lead to both self-respect and respect from others.  Only when that moment finally happens will people develop a sense of true pride and be justified in claiming what they have earned.  Unfortunately, we are surrounded by so many people who want scars, but aren’t willing to earn them.  In my opinion, those same people have a false sense of reality and delusions of grandeur.   They walk around this world projecting a false image…an image they have somehow convinced themselves is real and justified.  In their minds, they have earned every bit of it.  To me, these people are posers…in every sense of the word.  Just because someone buys the fastest car in the world, does not mean he or she is qualified to be a racecar driver.  Just because someone purchases all of the Craftsman tools offered at Sears does not mean he or she is a carpenter.  Someone can purchase the most expensive guitar or amplifier, but it won’t make he or she play well or turn into a rock star overnight.  In my opinion, people should have to put in the necessary time and effort in order to be considered authentic.  I have little respect for anyone that cannot back up the perception they are intentionally creating and wanting the public to believe.  So then the question becomes, how much time and effort is considered necessary?  Well, I am not sure if there is a definitive answer to that.  For me, it is about finding a love and passion for something, and then dedicating a good portion of your life to exploring and learning it.  It is about making a real commitment to a life long journey, even though you know there will never come an ending.  It is about giving your best effort and still not being satisfied with the results.  It is about remaining humble and conscious of the reality that you may never receive a trophy or medal for any of your efforts, and always being content with that fact.  It is about knowing in your heart that glory, or receiving any reward, was never the reason you started this journey in the first place.

To sum up…

Parents…please stop buying your kids $3,000 guitars.  Teach them the reward of hard work.

Posers…if you want respect, start earning it.  We know who you really are.

Potbellys…I will see you sometime this week.

Welcome to the official website for Chicagoland musician, Josh Holmes.  Here you will find information on Josh’s upcoming tour dates, news, music plus much more.  Thank you again for visiting!

Follow Josh on Twitter www.twitter.com/joshholmesmusic

“Like” Josh on Facebook www.facebook.com/joshholmesmusic

For booking information, email management@joshholmes.net

Welcome to the official website for Chicagoland musician, Josh Holmes.  Here you will find information on Josh’s upcoming tour dates, news, music plus much more.  Thank you again for visiting!

Follow Josh on Twitter www.twitter.com/joshholmesmusic

“Like” Josh on Facebook www.facebook.com/joshholmesmusic

For booking information, email management@joshholmes.net

Welcome to the official website for Chicagoland musician, Josh Holmes.  Here you will find information on Josh’s upcoming tour dates, news, music plus much more.  Thank you again for visiting!

Follow Josh on Twitter www.twitter.com/joshholmesmusic

“Like” Josh on Facebook www.facebook.com/joshholmesmusic

For booking information, email management@joshholmes.net

As I drove away, there were several questions going through my mind.  Why wouldn’t the owner go out and look for her dog?  If the dog has gotten out several times in the past, why didn’t they build a fence or purchase a reliable electric collar?  Why did the owner not seem to be very relieved when I brought her dog back?  The fact it is, there are people out there that should not own pets.  Due to this owner’s negligence, her dog could have been hit by a car, killed by coyotes or other animals, or eventually froze or starved to death.  I understand that things can happen once in a while.  Even the best pet owners in the world can make mistake, however, a good owner learns from those mistakes and does not put their pet’s life in danger.

This was not the first time I have picked up stray animals.  In fact, some of my friends joke with me because my wife and I always seem to come across stray dogs.  Actually, one of my current dogs was a stray that my wife and I found running down a highway last summer.  After taking our newfound dog to the local animal shelter, we found out that the owner had a chip inserted in the dog.  The chip was registered to someone in Chicago, which is about 45 miles from where the dog was found.  The phone number on file just kept ringing every time we tried to call, and there was no answering machine or voicemail set up either.  After a week of calling, we decided to drive up to the address in Chicago, and knock on the owner’s door.  Instead of coming to the door, the registered owner would only talk to me through the apartment’s intercom.  Even though the person I was speaking with was the same person registered on the chip, she repeatedly denied every owning the dog.  It became obvious to me that she had driven out to Indiana and dumped the dog.  The good news is that we ended up keeping her. (She is sleeping right next to me on the couch as I type this)

To all of the animal owners out there…TAKE CARE OF YOUR PETS!!!  Most pets are domesticated, and that means that are DEPENDANT on their owners to take care of them.  Most of these animals would not survive without the care of their owners.  We are the ones who make the choice to become pet owners, so we owe it to our pets to give them the best lives possible.

To all pet owners…

• Make sure your pets are fed properly, and they have access to clean water.
• If your pets wear collars, make sure their collars are not too tight.  Either way, make sure your pets are properly tagged with an address and phone information.
• Make sure your pets cannot get loose from your yard and/or living space.  Put locks on all gates and look for areas where they can possibly escape.  If you use an electric fence, make sure that it works properly.
• If the weather is too hot or cold, then don’t keep your animal outside for too long.
• Make sure to take your pets to a veterinarian regularly for their shots and checkups.
• If you cannot take care of your pet by providing the basic requirements listed above, then please find a trustworthy owner for your pet, or take them to a non-kill shelter.

To the legislators…

• Establish a 24 hour, on call person at your local animal shelter in case a stray animal is found and needs shelter.  If people are kind enough to rescue an animal, then at least have someone available to take in a stray animal 24 hours a day/7 days a week at a local animal shelter.  It would be nice to see my tax dollars go for that, rather than installing classic looking street lamps with brick laid streets.
• Start regulating breeders, as well as pet purchasers.  There are too many animals being bred, and any irresponsible person can purchase an animal from anyone.  Most breeders, not all, don’t care about the overpopulation of domestic animals, nor do they care about the treatment of these animals by their new owners.  Most only care about making money.

To everyone…

• If you see a loose animal, stop and try to help it.  I cannot understand all of these people that just keep driving when there is a dog running around that is obviously loose.  By stopping, you could not only be saving its life, but you are possibly saving the lives as stray animals can cause car accidents.  If you are intimidated in any way by a stray, then at least try calling animal control to come help.

I know the world is not a perfect place.  I am also aware that there are hundreds of other tragedies and injustices that are happening all around us.  This is just one in particular that means something to me, and I wanted to write about it.  I hope you all give your pets the attention, care and respect they deserve.  If you cannot live up to that kind of commitment, then please don’t become a pet owner…go buy a pet rock instead.

Now is a good time to grab a pen and write the following statement down somewhere, so you can look at it every morning you wake up.

“I WILL NEVER LET MY CRITICS INFLUENCE WHAT I DO”

Everyone is a critic.  Once you decide to put yourself out there, you will be criticized.  Whether you record one of your songs on a cd, upload a video on YouTube, and/or perform in front of a crowd of people, you will most certainly be criticized.  There is no way to hide from it, and it will come from every possible direction.  Whether you like it or not, you will receive criticism from musical colleagues, friends, family members, co-workers, audience members, professional music critics (whatever the hell that means), and so on.  Most people do not mean any harm by their criticisms.  The fact is most humans already have a preconceived idea of what he or she wants to hear, and if something does not coincide with their expectations, they end up deeming it as wrong or incorrect and want to change it.  The problem is that most humans are inherently close-minded and cannot see past their own walls.  Remember…those are their issues…not yours.

You should never let anyone else’s issues affect what you do or say, nor how you write or perform.  The only exception comes if you are actively seeking someone’s advice or constructive criticism.  If you do take someone’s advice, make sure it is something you agree with in your heart, and it comes from someone you respect.  Either way, you need to care about what you think, first and foremost.  People should never define you as a musician.  You need to define yourself.  When you are writing and performing, it should only matter what you think.  People then have the choice on whether or not to accept you.  Don’t try to appease those who do not accept you for who you are or what you are doing.  Once you start changing for others, then you begin to lose who you are.  We are all unique, and that’s what makes us interesting.  You are not the president representing the people…you are an artist representing yourself.  There are plenty of things in life that are about compromise…your art should not be one of them.

Bottom line…when it comes to music…do what makes YOU happy…don’t ever stop believing in yourself…don’t ever become a puppet.  You want people too see who YOU are.  People will follow and appreciate that in the long term.   Becoming what others want you to be, can only yield short term success, if any.

Listen to the song “Garden Party” by Ricky Nelson.   Here is the link for a video of the song on YouTube.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PECmjB9df0w

Ricky was a teen idol back in the late 1950s/early 60s and had several hit records during that time.  In 1972, he played a concert at NYC’s at Madison Square Garden.  As Ricky tried to play his new songs for the crowd, they began booing him due to the fact they wanted to hear the hits from his teen idol days.  After being booed off of the stage, he ended writing a song that ever musician needs to listen to at some point.

Just as today’s parents attempt to censor their children, most adults during that time were convinced that rock roll was the devil’s music and tried to keep it away from their kids as well.  It was the “beat” and suggestive lyrics that scared this fundamentalist society into thinking that this “jungle” music could lead to inappropriate behavior amongst the teenage community.  Well…they were right.  Rock and Roll evoked newfound emotions and brought out the wild child in all of those who were exposed to it.  All of a sudden people were dancing and moving in new ways.  Also, for the first time, you didn’t need a partner to dance with anymore.  You could do the “The Stroll” all by yourself.  Rock and Roll’s significance on teenagers was also due to the fact that most teens were extremely sheltered by their parents and society in general as a result of political and religious influence.  Rock and Roll was rebellion.  I can’t imagine what it would have been like to hear Rock and Roll for the first time.  It was most certainly anything but an acquired taste.

If Doc Brown were kind enough to loan me the Delorean, I would love to travel back in time to the 1950s and attend as many concerts as I could.  I would start out in Pennsylvania in the year 1955 and watch Bill Haley (The Father of Rock and Roll) and the Comets perform “Rock Around The Clock.” Then I would travel to St. Louis in the year 1956 to listen to Chuck Berry (The King of Rock and Roll in my opinion) play “Johnny Be Goode” for the first time.  I would then grab a leather jacket, grease my hair, and get into my new 1957 Thunderbird convertible and drive to Lubbock, Texas to see a guy with goofy glasses named Buddy Holly.  I would request songs like “Rave On,” “True Love Ways,” and “Listen to Me.”  I would then head further out West to California in the year 1958 to listen to a 16 year old Ritchie Valens play “Come On Let’s Go” at the local American Legion Hall.  My final stop would be up North in the small town of Clearlake, Iowa, where the area’s biggest event is about to take place in the year 1959.  The “Winter Dance Party,” featuring four national headliners, is set to play the Surf Ballroom on February 2, 1959.  Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, The Big Bopper and newcomers Dion and the Belmonts are slated to perform for hundreds of eager teenagers in this desolate, midwestern town.  Little did anyone know, this would be this event that would mark the end of Rock and Roll as people knew it, and the tragedy that followed would change the scope of music forever.  I wish I could go back there.  I am sure there are many people that feel the same way and for so many countless reasons.

Well…I have a little secret.  Someone told me about a time portal that can transport you back to those final days before the music died.  The portal is located a couple of hours North of Des Moines, Iowa, where I35 intersects with Route 18.  A few miles West from there still stands the Surf Ballroom, and the Winter Dance Party will be coming to the town of Clearlake this February 2012.  For three days, music fans will have the unique opportunity to experience the 1950s all over again or for the first time.  There will be poodle skirts, leather jackets and lots of dancing!  Scheduled to perform will be Chuck Berry, The Comets, The Drifters, The Flamingos, Danny and the Juniors, Jason D. Williams plus more!  Someone there was actually crazy enough to call and ask me to play there again this year as well.  Joining my band will be drummer Edd Merkel, pianist Steven Krupa and bassist Alex Wilcox.  We are set to perform the main stage on Friday, February 3^rd at 7pm.  I am honored and thrilled to be sharing the stage with performers that I have idolized my whole life.  This place really is magic, and it is something I highly recommend for everyone to experience.  It takes place on the first weekend of February every year.  Make sure to reserve your tickets as early as possible, as they sell out each year.  For information visit www.surfballroom.com

By the way, the music never really died as they say.  It never will.

(When the new window opens, right click on the player to save)

In order to truly appreciate this song, I would like to tell you the story behind it…

Sometime in the 1960s, my Aunt Margie wrote lyrics for a song about a child, going from store to store, in search for the real Santa Clause.  The first time I saw these lyrics, I was 9 years old.  I had just started playing guitar and had been taking lessons for about 6 months in the town of Kirkland, Washington…just outside of Seattle.  I had always known my Aunt as being a creative person.  In her lifetime, she wrote numerous poems, songs and greeting cards, plus she was also an artist heavily involved in the arts and crafts.  With my new found interest in music at the time, I had asked her if she had ever written any songs.  That is when she showed me the lyrics to this wonderful Christmas song…a song that tells such a simple, yet familiar, tale that we can all relate to as kids.  The only thing missing was the music.  She told me a friend of hers tried adding music sometime in the 1970s, however the music was not the right fit for the song.  I asked her if I could take a shot at writing music for it.  The funny thing was I didn’t really know much about playing the guitar, let alone writing music for a song.  I just remember a melody coming to my head right away, and I started playing these chords along with the words.  I think I finished writing the music in less than 30 minutes.  To this day, a song has never come so easy to me.  It was almost like fate, if you believe in such a thing.  I then took the song to my first guitar teacher, Mike Lowe.  He helped me to write a simple, but tasty solo, thus completing the song.  When I showed my Aunt the finished product, she was so delighted.  Every Christmas since then, my family and I always sing that song.  It has pretty much become a tradition for us.

10 years later, I decided to professionally record the song as a gift to my Aunt.  During that time, I was playing in a band called, Krooked Minds, with my high school buddies, Alex Wilcox and Eric Skertich.  We walked into Sheffield Studios and finished the song within a couple of hours.  Again, it was almost like the performance came very natural to us.  We never really exposed the recording, due to the fact we did not want to be branded as a “Christmas Band.”  As a result, the song sat on a shelf for nearly 15 years.  Today, I am excited to share this song with all of you.  Feel free to share it with your family and friends as well.

I dedicate this to one of the most creative people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing…my Aunt Margie (September 7, 1925 - June 4, 2006).  I will be eternally grateful for everything she has taught me, as well as every moment we spent together.  They don’t make them like her anymore.  May she rest in peace.

What am I trying to say???  STOP FUCKING UP THE UNITED STATES NATIONAL ANTHEM!!!

If you are a vocalist lucky enough to be chosen to sing our country’s song, please just sing the damn song the way it was written.  Don’t get me wrong, if you are creative enough to add your own touch to a song without butchering it…then please proceed.  In fact, I encourage that kind of creativity when it comes to music.  Whitney Houston and Jimi Hendrix were both able to accomplish this with our country’s song, but I have never seen anyone come close since then.  What kills me is when I flip on the television, and I see some Christina Aguilera wannabe screeching out the most unnecessary notes I have ever heard.  Most often times, this barrage of pointless crap comes right at the very end of the song.  While listening to the singer approaching the ending of the song (“And the home, of the….”), I am just crossing my fingers that the vocalist will just sing the word, “brave,” in one solid note and put down the microphone.  But no!  This never happens.  For some reason, the singer feels compelled to take that word, stretch it out for another 45 seconds, and attempt to hit every damn note in the stratosphere.  The home team is actually ready to kick off, and the singer is still standing on the 50 yard line, singing the word, “brave,” up and down every musical scale they can think of.  That is why the television network always transitions to a commercial.  What we don’t see is the National Guard having to remove the microphone from the singer’s hand and escorting them off of the field with force.  What I think would be cool is if they just left the singer on the field while the game begins, then we can watch he or she get pummeled by all of the players.  Even then, I could see them still attempting to sing while pinned down at the bottom of the pile.

Solution?  I would say the answer is to have a marching band or some sort of instrumentalist perform the song, instead of some person who dreams of being a contestant on American Idol or the X Factor and just can’t wait to butcher a song up.  However, if they insist on having a live vocalist, there should be a group of snipers put in place, equipped with laser scopes targeting the singer during the duration of the song…just in case they decide to ruin it.  Imagine it…someone singing the National Anthem with a bunch of red dots pointed at their midsection and forehead…what a beautiful sight.

Or maybe the Cobra Kais can sit out on the sidelines ready to apply a karate chop if necessary.