Karaoke for the masses

The first rule of karaoke: Get liquored up.

By Katie Davis

Published May 5, 2009

Karaoke night at McGinty's Pub is not your little sister's birthday party. Classic rock songs such as Bob Dylan's "Big River" and The Doors' "Touch Me," as well as plenty of down-and-gritty country, reverberate from the humble building at the corner of Stadium Boulevard and Old 63.

Recently under new management, the friendly bar is already seeing improvements. Simple things like wrought-iron patio chairs, a new sign and string lights have already begun to lighten up the old building. Sean Boevins, McGinty's new manager, has one goal in mind for the neighborhood bar: to make everyone feel welcome -- well, everyone over 18, of course.

"It was kind of an old, dirty bar with a great regular crowd a few days a week," Boevins says. "But I thought it had great potential and a perfect location."

And then there were the karaoke nights. On both Saturday and Wednesday, people of all types -- townies and students, the middle-aged and the young, businesspeople and teachers -- came out to drink, sing or show their support for those who did sing. But these karaoke enthusiasts were not just inebriated souls wanting to break out and belt some Cher -- if they were, they would have surely received some healthy applause. These people actually sang pretty well.

"Shane, one of the men that comes in here and organizes the karaoke a lot of times, has quite a large following of singers," Boevins says. "Many of them are regulars, but there's always a few new faces too. And everyone is very supportive of whoever's up there."

MU senior Mike Rice, a self-professed Bruce Springsteen fan, appreciates the calm, laid-back atmosphere at McGinty's.

"I was just sick of doing the whole Big 12 thing," Rice says. "McGinty's is much more low-key. I come and sing fairly often."

And then there are those who have not yet made their first jump into the world of karaoke. Jared Casey, a part-time stand-up comedian, thinks singing is much more intimidating than comedy.

"Well, in singing you can't fake it," Casey says. "You've got to get up there and have real soul. I want to eventually, but I don't know if it'll be tonight."

There are quite a few people who said that to get on stage to sing, they've got to be a little liquored up. Rice prefers this philosophy and says it's an obvious answer.

"You can't just go up there without being a little messed up," he says. "Why do you think they all go to the bar first?"

Yet there is at least one McGinty's regular who would disagree with this popular belief. Sitting at the end of the bar, his tanned arms sporting multi-colored tattoos and eyes framed by dark-rimmed glasses, a man known as "Chops" gets up temporarily to sing a deep, almost folksy rendition of Johnny Cash's "Goodnight, Irene." Chops has been attending karaoke nights at various places for years. In fact, he is somewhat of a legend.

"When I was in the Marine Corps, stationed at Antigua in the Caribbean, we weren't really allowed to drink anywhere except at this Air Force base where they had karaoke," he says. "The bar had this deal that if you got up and sang a song, you'd get a drink token. So, my buddy and I did it. We got lots of tokens."

Eventually, Chops explained, the karaoke special became too popular and the bar had to end its token deal. But his karaoke-singing career did not end there.

"I was hooked, so I'd go even without the free drinks," Chops says. "And it's a myth that you need a drink to get up there and sing, especially at a place like this. Everyone is supportive. You just get up there and go for it."