Cherie Blair has joined the ever-growing ranks of deluded wannabes who have no regard for noise pollution, forget they are tone deaf and perform karaoke.

On the Blairs recent trip to China, the PM very sensibly declined the chance to show us his vocal skills and effortlessly passed the buck to his publicity-seeking wife.

Sounding like Hilda Ogden on a bad day, Cherie managed to murder one verse of the Beatles' hit When I'm 64 before someone wisely wrestled the microphone away from her.

Despite the unusual surroundings and singer, Mrs Blair's musical endeavours bore a frightening resemblance to most pub karaoke competitions.

Like all drunken droners, Cherie was under the misconception that she could sing and would not be making a total fool of herself by opening her mouth.

She was also cheered on by the crowd - who, like the pub regulars, love nothing more than encouraging the moron with the microphone to humiliate themselves even more.

But at least most karaoke kings and queens have alcohol to blame for loosening their vocal chords, Cherie had nothing but her over-sized ego and a troop of photographers to encourage her to take centre stage.

However there is something worse than the out-of-tune amateur karaoke performer and that is the singer who is waiting to be discovered.

You can spot these club-style singers a mile off - they are the ones down the local pub with their glittery costume, newly set hair and perfect smile.

When they are called on to do their bit they act all coy before taking to the stage and belting out some terrible ballad that was nauseating enough the first time round.

The sing their little socks off, contorting their faces with false emotion and somewhere along the line managing to hit a note of two - a feat that makes them a star.

They lap up the thunderous applause - lauded by an audience that can't believe anyone in their pub can really carry a tune. It is thanks to karaoke that these crooners turn up to audition for the latest reality TV talent contest - well, they were hit down The Red Lion so why shouldn't they make it big?

And even when they are rejected they don't give up - like stardom-seeking missiles they hurtle towards the next televised audition and national humiliation.

The problem is these deluded individuals are tuneful at best and excruciating at worst - egos inflated out of all proportion by their shot at stardom in the pub on a Saturday night.

So can I make a heartfelt appeal on behalf of everyone who likes to enjoy a quiet pint without having to listen to Marie Carey's latest single being murdered?

Can we please go back to the good old days when singing in public was left to the professionals and the rest of us had to make do with the confines of the shower to show off our talents.

Published: 01/08/2003