David Wang | Student Life

It’s Sept. 4, I’ve just signed up for three a cappella tryouts. As my heart pounds, I think about the fact that I won’t even have a beat to guide me during auditions. Just me and my voice. 

To be clear, I’m not trying out as an experiment. Genuinely, I’ve had the urge to try out for a cappella every single year at WashU. My first year I went so far as to book an audition…only to not show up. My little first-year nerves were freaking out, and I tossed my Pitch Perfect fantasies behind me. 

I love singing, but the military-like schedules of my aca-friends terrify me. Practice Until 12 a.m., why? And yet, here I am, my senior year wondering what could have been. But enough of that. This time, I’m asking, “What could be?” 

My first tryout, Sept. 5, is for the Pikers.

As I sat on floor two of the DUC, my nerves were multiplying. I got to my audition a bit early like an over-eager kid does, filled out a form with funny questions for the Pikers, then got called in. 

The audition started with some vocal warm-ups on piano to place my voice. Then, I read some music (pretty badly, shout-out to my fifth-grade piano teacher) and sang my solo.

I performed two verses of Sinatra’s “My Way.” I think I did the beginning part okay but butchered the part where Sinatra yells, “I DID IT MYYYYY WAYYY.” To be fair, my voice is hoarse right now, probably from a sickness some random first-year brought from the remote depths of east Montana. 

Then the Pikers asked me some funny questions that I genuinely enjoyed answering, such as, “Do you think you could beat this member of the Pikers in a fight?” 

Some of that dynamic back-and-forth honestly made me want a call-back. Seems like a fun group! Settle down, Oscar, I reminded myself, You’ve been crushed by too many WashU improv auditions to know not to get your hopes up.

Next up were The Amateurs.

The Amateurs are a group that traditionally place high at the International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella (think of the a cappella competition from Pitch Perfect). Aca-scary! I get to Lien Library, adjacent to the clocktower, and I literally cannot swipe into the building. It’s on the South 40. I’ve never felt more like an older dweeb. 

After I wait for someone to open the door, I see a girl get called into the audition room. She starts to sing, and her voice sounds angelic. I’m officially batting out of my voice’s league. I see a bowl of cough drops on the waiting table for the auditionees, unwrap two, like the senior caveman I am, and toss them in my mouth. After the angel-voiced student leaves, an Amateur walks out to take my audition sheet.

There was a spot on the audition sheet that said, “Do you have any fun questions you’d like to ask us?” A reminder that I’m not just selling my voice, but my personality. While racing against time, I put down “Superpower?”

While I’m sucking on the lozenges in the waiting room, I hear them discuss my question. “Is he asking if I have a superpower?” 

The Amateurs finally call me in. Before I begin the piano vocal scale warm-ups, one of the Amateurs asks if she could say something.

She says, “Superpower? I hardly know her.” It’s an awkward attempt to break the ice, so I laugh. 

Then they ask, “So, what about you? Superpower?” 

I try to think of a clever response. I say, “I had sex with them.” I tried to make a callback to the joke she just made, but it didn’t land. Not my proudest moment. I felt like the audition was now over before it started. 

I sang my Sinatra, and left with a cringed, awkward smile on my face. In the words of Drake after he also suffered public embarrassment against Kendrick, “I’ll see ya later, yeah. Maybe when you meet your maker.” 

Fri, Sept. 6 I auditioned for Reverb.

Reverb played my favorite hype song, “10/10” by Rex Orange County, as I walked in (which they knew from, you guessed it, a little questionnaire sheet I had to fill out in a waiting area). The vibes are warm and open, which makes sense for a community service-focused aca-group. 

But something changed in me as I left the Shepley library for my audition. I realized how much I want this. 

After Reverb was Staam.

I wasn’t originally signed up to audition for Staam, but now that the aca-magic had a grip on me, I wanted to give it a shot. I saw a friend in Staam at lunch. They pounced on my intrigue and signed me up. 

Have I fallen into some aca-trap? Why do I want to get in so badly? Is it just because I want to be accepted into something? Do I want to just prove that I can? Or maybe it’s because the rabbi who did my Bar Mitzvah was a founding member of Staam…my mom said I should text him about this. My mind is racing.

Ten minutes after the Reverb audition, I walk to the Mudd Multipurpose Room for Staam. I chat with a friend as I fill in the audition form in the waiting area, and the vibes are fun and friendly. I get called into the audition room and see the group of which I know half the members. Some sort of odd confidence has sparked in me. Maybe it’s the high from the Reverb audition? The Staam friendly faces who want to see me do well?

They individually introduce themselves, which none of the other groups have done. I sing my two little stanzas of Sinatra’s “My Way,” and ultimately, think I did alright. 

Now, writing this at 11:21 p.m. on Friday, I wait. Apparently callbacks are sent out tomorrow at 9 a.m., and callback auditions can begin at 12 p.m.

Saturday, Sept. 7, I wake up and see I got a callback for Staam. But honestly, I’m not sure if I want to make the aca-commitment. It’s about three practices a week for a total of seven hours. And the callbacks email from the aca-organizing committee says, “This preference card is a binding agreement and is unchangeable once submitted. If you choose to pref this group and they offer you a membership, you MUST accept. If you are unsure, or would prefer not to join this group, do NOT pref them.”

So at this point, I’m conflicted on what to do. Apparently I have to know by Sunday? I haven’t even gotten in yet, but I don’t love the pressure. Maybe it’s my commitment issues, but how am I supposed to be sure if I’ve never been to a practice?

Sunday is my call-back audition. I didn’t drink alcohol last night at a friend’s birthday party because of my callback today. I also bought honey throat spray at the Loop CVS at 10 p.m. because I found online that menthol cough drops dry your throat. It’s almost comical how much I care at this point. It’s like I can taste the thrill of getting in. Yet my callback is in four hours, and I still don’t know what I’m singing. 

The feeling of stress is clenching my body. Just called my parents for about an hour trying to relax. I decided to sing Marvin Gaye’s part in “You’re All I Need to Get By” because I’ve listened to the “Coda” movie soundtrack too many times to count.

It feels like my worth is in their hands. I’m not even sure I want to join. But I think I have to decide tonight in the preference form? T – 35 minutes until callback. I just whispered someone’s name in the DUC to get their attention because I didn’t want to stress my voice. I want this bad. 

Unfortunately, that did not go well. I played piano as a kid, but sight reading complicated music and singing simultaneously is difficult. Staam was super sweet, though. They slipped me a note on how they’ve enjoyed getting to know me.

At the end of it, they asked me, “Can you commit to three practices a week?”

“I think so,” I responded, but I knew I needed to come up with a more definitive answer by 11:59 p.m. to fill out that preference sheet. 

Honestly, they deserve someone who wants it more. As I walked out, I saw a girl who looked like a first-year waiting for their audition. It’s a safe bet she wants it more. 

So tonight, when I fill out my preference card, I know what I’ll do. There’s a thirst within me to try infinite clubs here. I have to accept that I can’t be a part of everything. I wish I could tell you this ends with me singing as an a cappella group member on stage, but that’s not how it worked out for me. All I can think of is what my sister told me on the phone: “What’s meant to be is meant to be.”