Karaoke's path from a Japanese musician's side project to a fixture of Vietnamese family life took barely two decades — and along the way it split into a form few of its Japanese inventors would recognize.
In Kobe, Japan, musician Daisuke Inoue performs what he later describes as his first "karaoke" song — backing tracks meant to let ordinary bar patrons sing along without a live band.
Inoue's karaoke machine reaches the commercial market. Famously, he never patented the invention, later joking that he simply hadn't imagined anyone beyond his own circle of friends would want to use it.
Karaoke arrives in Vietnam during the Đổi Mới opening period, as trade and cultural ties with Japan strengthen. It first appears in upscale hotels and restaurants catering to tourists and foreign visitors, an expensive novelty rather than a mass pastime.
State broadcaster VTV airs midday programs on its VTV3 channel specifically to teach viewers how to sing karaoke, drawing heavily on Western pop songs — an unlikely but effective way of normalizing the format for a national audience.
On the streets of Saigon and the Mekong Delta provinces, itinerant vendors selling kẹo kéo (pulled taffy candy) begin wheeling makeshift speaker rigs to drinking spots, using music to draw customers; see The wheeled speaker that changed everything, below.
Cheap Chinese-manufactured amplified speakers with Bluetooth connectivity flood the market, and the "loa kẹo kéo" — named for the candy vendors who popularized the format — becomes a fixture of family parties, weddings and neighborhood drinking sessions across the country.
A fire at the An Phú karaoke bar in Bình Dương province, just outside Ho Chi Minh City, kills 32 people after an electrical short circuit; the tragedy prompts the Prime Minister to order a nationwide safety review of every commercial karaoke venue in the country.
The government issues Decree 282/2025/NĐ-CP, tightening noise regulations specifically aimed at amplified home and street karaoke — legal experts are quick to clarify that the decree penalizes excessive noise, not the act of singing itself, a distinction that becomes a genuine point of public debate.