Live Band Karaoke
Fergie’s Pub
1214 Sansom St.
Philadelphia
May 4, 2024
Backed by a guitarist, bassist, drummer and a harmonizing hostess, the pony-tailed sequined woman who had introduced herself as “Stacey from the dog park” transformed into a Chris Stapleton-singing Lucinda Williams before my eyes.
I’ve looked for love in all the same old places
Found the bottom of a bottle’s always dry …
But when you poured out your heart, I didn’t waste it
‘Cause there’s nothing like your love to get me high …
When she hit the chorus, the whole bar began to belt: “You’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey/ You’re as sweet as strawberry wine/ You’re as warm as a glass of brandy/ And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time.”
Stapleton’s overeager vocal runs ruin the original recording for me. But when Stacey sang it, with a clear and present voice, I suddenly heard and felt the lyrics behind the song. It made sense: That a person for whom a specific song really resonates would be able to perform its truth perhaps more successfully than the professional who wrote it in search of fame and fortune.
I had met Stacey right before she kicked off karaoke night at Fergie’s Pub Friday — and began to broaden my horizons about the entertainment form’s possibilities.
Creeps, army wives, Black Sabbath, and soft pretzels were all part of the scene inside the pub as live band karaoke drew in its standardly sizable crowd of people ready to sing their own personal standard. When I first dropped by the bar to check out the weekly show, I almost turned away at the door. I had been interested in finding out more about the professional musicians who agreed to back the drunk and tone-deaf. But when I actually arrived at the second-floor karaoke room with a protesting pal, a $5 cover suddenly seemed like a lot to pay just to hear a wall of exhausted 9‑to‑5’ers publicly crash and burn post-work week from too much tequila and stage access.
Needless to say, I wasn’t in the same kind of forgiving and familial mood as the rest of the room as my friend and I squeezed a seat a the packed table where Stacey held court.
“Stacey — you’re a rock star!” my friend said in the most earnest and flamboyant voice I’d ever heard his emo mouth utter, when returned to the table following her performance.
“Oh, I’m just a mom,” she replied, sitting back down at the table with her family. “I’m an army wife. What are you drinking?”
Despite his protests — “Stacey, noooo! Nooo, Stacey” — we had suddenly downed two rounds of free beers on Stacey’s tab.
“You’re at our table now,” Stacey told us. “Your money’s no good here. Just be our cheerleaders.”
Though military families and I don’t usually mesh, I started to feel a lot more open as the night went on — and as more free drinks from feel-good strangers flowed.
Our table danced cheerily along as more folks took the stage: “Day of judgment, God is calling, on their knees, the war pigs crawling, begging mercy for their sins, Satan laughing, spreads his wings,” one especially intense man with a purple bandana screamed into the microphone. “Death and hatred to mankind, poisoning their brainwashed minds,” he chanted, channeling Black Sabbath while Stacey and I shared a perfectly salty soft pretzel.
This is real romance, I thought, as I dipped Stacey’s leftover dough into mustard.
Next, a middle-aged man wearing a cowboy hat and a golden, gemmed lion charm chain, climbed on stage. He was introduced as Mel, a regular at Fergie’s.
Moments later, arms raising to the ceiling like his soul was starting the ascent to heaven, Mel opened his eyes and mouth wide: “I’m a creeeeeep! I’m a weirdo! What the hell am I doin’ here? I don’t belong here.”
One of the only people of color visible to me — other than my friend, who was almost alarmingly and uncharacteristically bubbly amid the amateur acts — the karaoke king recited the famed Radiohead heartbreaker lines: “I wanna have control, I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul.”
“He’s killing it,” my friend said blissfully from behind his mournfully long, dark hair.
Let’s be clear: We definitely heard our fair share of violently off-pitch performances Friday night. But even notes that fell flat were ultimately hard hitting in their own way. I admired the no-fucks-given nonchalance of those who missed the mark so wholeheartedly that it read as rebellion.
Ali Wadsworth, the lifetime Fergie’s bartender and professional singer who helped launch the weekly karaoke gigs more than a decade ago, said part of the goal of live karaoke is to assist every participant in sounding as strong as they can on stage.
“Getting off the stage after performing is just the greatest feeling in the world,” Wadsworth said. “I love being able to share that with everybody — the band wants everyone to sound amazing.”
Even when someone bombs, she said, “the best part is how the crowd’s still supportive. Unless they’re being dicks, which no one likes. But I don’t have to convince people to cheer.”
Unlike other karaoke bars, where singers usually pick from a small selection of songs, the Fergie’s band is open to playing anything. If they don’t know the song, they’ll Google it between sets to decide whether they can learn the chords quickly enough to accommodate the request. The chords and lyrics are then projected onto a wall so everyone in the room can follow along.
The stronger the tip, Wadsworth noted, the more willing the band becomes to accept a musical challenge. And a hefty tip can also improve patrons’ chances of securing a spot on the long sign-up list that keeps drinkers entertained every Friday and Saturday from 9 p.m. until midnight.
The regular band is made up of Wadsworth, who sings back-up on the nights when she hosts and bartends on Saturdays when musician Brian Langan leads, plus Will Donnelly on guitar, Will Brown on drums and Luke Rinz on bass. Last Friday, Mike Vivas filled in for Donnelly on guitar.
For full-time musicians, Wadsworth said, the biweekly gigs are a solid way to make some cash while “hanging out with friends and playing a lot of dumb songs.”
Whenever the core members take leave to go on tour, “there’s a trillion other musicians who wanna take their spot,” Wadsworth said.
The commitment shown by the Fergie’s band is reflected in the dedication from patrons and participants. One man named Xavier, who Sinatra’d his way through “My Way” Friday night, shared a color-coded spreadsheet with me in which he’s been tracking and analyzing every song requested at Fergie’s over the past year.
The most requested songs: 133 for “Valerie,” 127 for “Mr. Brightside,” 101 for “Zombie,” 84 for “What’s Up,” and 83 for “Before He Cheats.”
So, those looking to impress with original song choices might want to steer clear of covering Amy Winehouse or The Cranberries — or else face some serious competition.
But the best advice for delivering a perfect performance is the statement repeated by the legendary Stacey to stage-frightened future starlets Friday night: “Just remember that they’re your band.”
NEXT
Fergie’s Pub hosts live band karaoke every Friday and Saturday nights between 9 p.m and midnight. You can also catch all the members of the Fergie’s band playing the Brooklyn Bowl this Saturday, May 11, with Pennsylvania native Don McCloskey.
