Karaoke BBQ

I'm mowing my lawn (a weekly chore that I keep up since my neighbour asked me when I was going to do it - the previous owner being very pleased with his lawn and all, personally I would have a planted slower growing variety) and raking to the strains (and I do mean strains) of some neighbours behind my garden having a karaoke bbq. I've never heard so many massacres of the power ballads, love songs and wedding favourites. We've had flat renditions of I am a woman in love, dream dream dream dream, daydream believer, I will survive (sung unusually by a man), hello is it me you're looking for, say you say me..., amongst others, and some almost unrecognisable versions of things sung by extremely poor singers with equally poor pronounciation. The russian neighbours two doors down my street are competing with euro techno. And we reach the end of another ballad - the crescendo into the big final chorus (a screech and missed high note). Its really not enhancing the lovely evening.