I have always loved singing karaoke.

I was born in a small county in northern Jiangsu, China, where I spent the first ten years of my life. Back then, my mother would occasionally dine out with her girlfriends, and their post-meal entertainment was often karaoke, which we mostly called "going to the singing hall." To my younger self—and equally, to the county town back then — the singing hall was a bizarre and dazzling place. No other venue was quite as special. Walking through a corridor lit by cheap LED lights, you would enter an otherworldly space overflowing with purple, blue, and green. Waiters could emerge from any corner, and the drinks and fruit platters were always arranged in the most extraordinarily flashy ways. The adults hurried about, and most of the time, they wore expressions distinctly different from those seen in the daylight: more direct, yet more ambiguous...

Stepping through a small door, the aunties would take turns singing their signature songs (I remember someone always requested Teresa Teng, while my mom would always sing Painted Skin). We kids would just sit on the side, snacking on the fruit platter, watching the music videos, and fantasizing about the glamorous urban lives we might one day lead.

A few years ago, I read a post on social media: regarding nightlife, East Asians prefer karaoke, while Westerners prefer rave parties. Perhaps this is because East Asians are generally more restrained and modest in daily life, thus needing an opportunity to break the rules and make others listen to "their own voices." Westerners, on the contrary, seek the anonymous pulsation and the private revelry within a crowd. Although this post might seem a bit dated now, I felt it did indeed touch upon something real.

Later on, I co-founded an art collective with some friends. When we first started that journey, the event we wanted to host most was karaoke. We experienced quite a few delays and setbacks along the way, but we finally made it happen, and it successfully became one of our most popular events. Even though we disbanded at the end of 2025, thinking back on those memories still fills my heart with sweetness.

Here is a piece of text I wrote for our event back then:

Originating from Japan, the word “karaoke” actually has more meanings. Kara means “empty, void” and okesutora - short oke - means “orchestra” and is an English loan word in the Japanese language. Thus, every karaoke session is an empty orchestra.

We initiated the idea of hosting a karaoke in February already. But for many reasons, it never came to fruition (you may find a booklet called “Karaoke?” in our publication, which recorded every “evidence” of the illusory karaoke). This June, we finally hosted our first karaoke, and we haven’t stopped ever since.

Our diverse cultural backgrounds have molded us, and singing, as one of the most fundamental ways of expressing ourselves, effortlessly brings us together in a primal manner. While singing, a natural trust permeates the space. Prejudices and social codes don’t exist anymore. This aligns with our collective belief: a principle of decentralization, nurtured solidarity, shared responsibility, and collectivity.

Everyone could find their stage in our karaoke sessions. You may present the songs you love and everything that comes behind them to everyone - in your own, unique way.

From our past practices, we surprisingly found out that our karaoke became such a safe place for all the participants. Here, you won’t be shy or concerned about your tone and pitch; no one will judge you. Use the language you prefer, show everyone the songs you love, and be proud of yourself.

I want to carry this spirit forward, so here, I have developed a cyber karaoke room.

If you would like to listen to some songs together, or perhaps sing a short verse loudly or silently, please click the button below. It will take you to a random song interface. There will always be two options on the screen: one is the instrumental track, and the other is the "original voice”: here, it includes not only the original singer's voice but also mine, or the voices of other participants. I hope this brings you a sense of companionship.

Additionally, this singing hall is always accepting submissions. If you are willing to share the voices of yourself or your friends, along with the stories behind them, please contact me through the homepage. I would be more than happy to include your unique memories.