“I boast the best karaoke experience in Southeast. Maybe even in Portland.”—Sean Bailey, KJ at the Hutch on Holgate, in an unsolicited email sent to the Mercury.
Could it be true? Was this boastful “Sean Bailey” person capable, as he so arrogantly claimed, of delivering the very best karaoke experience in all of Portland? Or were there humbler, more talented KJs slaving away on smoke-filled stages throughout our fair city? Obviously, a thorough scientific investigation was in order—one involving hypotheses, observations, and official-looking surveys. And singing. And margaritas. Yes, it would be a grueling, booze-soaked process… but I was determined to discover the best KJ in all of Portland.
DIRTY MINDS AND CLEAN-CUT KJS
Five minutes into handing out surveys at the Hutch on Holgate, I realized two things: One, people think I’m trying to sell them Jesus. Two, people can be total penises when it comes to filling out surveys.
For the KJ survey, I used the standard one to five scale (one being “sucks,” five being “fantastic”), which rated the KJs in six important categories: Super Performance Ability, Favoritism, Momentum, Multitasking, Crowd Participation, and Good Hair (AKA, the same way they choose UN delegates).
At first glance, Sean Bailey seemed to be a sweet and earnest young man—but upon further investigation, I sensed a dark sexuality lurking beneath that clean-cut exterior. One survey comment, for example, proclaimed, “I’m doing him, damn it!” while a couple sitting near our table told me, “Everyone wants to suck Sean’s dick.” (Good information to know when planning a night out.)
So what does a rampant sex god like Sean consider to be the secret to good KJing?
“I hit ’em at every angle,” he bragged. “I’m buying people beers, shaking hands, making sure everyone’s having a good time—but I’m also behind the scenes, making sure everything goes smoothly. And of course, I love to sing.” (He certainly does! I think he sang around 400 songs in the two hours I was there.)
He went on to tell me about how the mood of the Hutch had improved since its former incarnation as Grandma’s. “I think we’ve got something really special happening here.”
The crowd seemed to agree. Nearly everyone I spoke with had something positive to say about the Hutch, and especially about Sean’s singing voice. (Which you’ll get to hear about 400 times in the space of two hours. Did I mention that?)
However, one group of very unhappy drunken people sitting near the front didn’t share this opinion. “I wish they didn’t have karaoke here,” groused Rusty from SE Portland, draining the last of his Bud Light. “It’s too loud.”
I asked them why they come to a karaoke bar when they don’t like karaoke. “It’s the closest bar to our house,” he said.
I left without waiting to see if they would suck Sean’s dick.
The Hutch on Holgate, 4515 SE 41st, 774-1822, karaoke Thurs-Sat
MATHLETES AT YEN HA
Next stop: Yen Ha. It was midnight when I arrived, and I handed a survey to a man who didn’t respond for five full minutes. He just stared intently at the paper in his hands. I let him keep it… and slowly backed away.
Like Rusty and his pals from the Hutch, Yen Ha also included a group of drunken doucheholes who were bizarrely annoyed by karaoke going on inside a karaoke bar. They were even less thrilled with my surveys.
“These can be anonymous!” I said, weakly waving a paper in front of them. “All you have to do is circle the number.”
“That’s too bad,” the baldest douchehole told me. “If you had said ‘square the numbers,’ I would’ve done it. But circle? No.”
Ah. A math joke. Good one.
I took their surveys and handed another to a girl near the back. She had the sort of mad glint in her eyes that only seven raspberry vodka sodas can provide. Her name was Stacy. She was tan.
Warren, Yen Ha’s KJ, had a philosophy similar to Sean’s. He focused on “creating a whole experience” and putting the customers first, even going so far as to adjust the sound specifically for each customer (most good KJs do this, but it’s harder than you’d think). In the middle of our conversation, a dude nearing his ninth or 10th beer shuffled up to complain loudly about the wait. Warren handled him with a firm efficiency, like a good nanny or dog trainer—I half expected him to pull treats out of his pocket. Mollifying the guy by putting his song in right away, Warren and Drunky soon bro-hugged, their tension a thing of the past.
I asked Warren if he sang much during the night.
“If there are less than eight slips in the space of an hour, then I’ll probably sing in order to change the rotation or help motivate the crowd,” he said. “But once it gets busy, it’s their night.”
Very different from Sean’s all-night performances, I thought. But was Warren a better KJ because of it? My gut—and the seated, lethargic crowd in front of me—told me no.
Thanking Warren, I collected the surveys and left. Tan Stacy had written on hers, “Kiala is beautiful.” She also wrote, “These questions are stupid.”
Yen Ha, 6820 NE Sandy, 288-3773, karaoke Fri-Sat
DOWN WITH COMMIE KARAOKE
The next night I visited the Ambassador. It took me 45 minutes to even find the effing KJ. KJ Heather sits in a little box behind a curtain like the Wizard of Oz, and once I did find her, she told me she liked her island of anonymity and wasn’t into mingling with the crowd. I thought this seemed pretty antiseptic, a lot like the Ambassador itself—all well lit and plasticized. While Heather seemed to be very nice and adept at knob twiddling and button pushing, I couldn’t help but feel like I was at the Olive Garden of karaoke joints. Then she told me, “We cannot accept bribes here.”
Whahuh? Call me amoral (you wouldn’t be the first), but I thought the capitalistic excitement of over tipping a KJ in order to get your song in faster was the American way! I scribbled “The Ambassador = Un-American” in my notebook, grabbed the surveys, and took off in search of a less North Korean atmosphere.
Ambassador Restaurant & Lounge, 4744 NE Sandy, 280-0330, karaoke every night
GREASING PALMS AT CHOPSTICKS
Next was Chopsticks II. This time, I was accompanied by two lady friends who handed out the surveys for maximum douchehole avoidance. Danny, the regular Saturday night KJ at Chopsticks, was in the booth, busier than all fuck with eight million slips in front of him. What did he think made for a great KJ?
“Your five senses must be keenly tuned,” he said sagely. “And you must constantly adjust to shifting circumstances.”
Uh huh, uh huh—and bribes?
“Oh, yes, of course,” he nodded.
Thank God, I thought. America.
In fact, while I was standing there, a guy wearing what I think was a onesie asked if there were a way he could get up any faster.
“How much faster?” asked Danny.
“Five dollars faster.”
Slips were rearranged, and 20 minutes later, Onesie was happily singing Smashmouth.
[NOTE TO CRYBABIES: This system of over tipping is how most karaoke bars operate. The crowd certainly seemed to understand the system and the people I talked to didn’t appear to care so long as they were singing in a reasonable amount of time. For me, it’s just the nature of the service industry: Don’t tell me you’ve never over tipped a bartender in order to get a free beer or two. Accept it. Move on.]
Chopsticks Express II, 2651 E Burnside, 234-6171, karaoke every night
LAME COWBELL JOKES AT THE BOILER ROOM
On the last night of my investigation, I went to the Boiler Room. Rob—AKA “Dr. Love,” a moniker given to him by his karaoke patrons—was running the show, and he had a box of percussion instruments underneath his chair, including a cowbell, shaker, and tambourine. I noticed he was only drinking water.
“No booze allowed,” he told me.
I thought this might hamper his style, but after watching him sing the shit out of a Who song while banging the tambourine on his hip AND performing a couple of David Lee Roth-worthy high kicks, I realized he had no need for alcohol. (Sadly, the same will never be true for me. Sober karaoke is scary-okey.)
We also discussed the most popular karaoke songs (“This is the year of [Neil Diamond’s] ‘America,'” according to Dr. Love) and letting audience members use his instruments.
“It quickly became necessary to limit audience cowbell use,” Rob said, pointing out the obvious.
The people at the Boiler Room brought the surveys back to me; at least seven of them had “more cowbell!” written in the margins.
Boiler Room, 228 NW Davis, 227-5441, karaoke every night
LOSE YOURSELF IN THE MUSIC
After three consecutive nights of endless margaritas and arduous karaoke research, I collapsed in a heap on my bed.
The next day I held my breath as I tallied up the scores. Out of a possible 30 points, the Ambassador received a 20.6 (ouch!), Yen Ha a more respectable 23, Chopsticks walked away with an even more respectable 24, the Boiler Room scored a 24.8, and the Hutch on Holgate received a stunning 28.6.
My God: Sean Bailey had been right all along. His fans and my official-looking surveys had vindicated this proud peacock of a man who had boldly declared himself capable of delivering the best karaoke experience in Portland! My scientific journey was at an end: Sean Bailey had been crowned the King of the KJs, and a tanned sorority girl named Stacy had called me beautiful. I think we all won a victory that day.
Especially me.
Wow, this almost made me want to go to a Karaoke bar. For a second. Then I remembered I fucking hate singing, and hate other people singing just slightly more. I think I’ll just go have a margarita in silence instead.
your research methods are impeccable.
Thank you. I am a consummate professional.
I don’t even know what I just said.
Good stuff here.
Douchehole. That sums up those fine people who acted like the surveys were coated in bubonic plague. (They were, but whatever).
This article rocks! And it almost made me want to suck Sean Bailey’s dick.
I’ve never overtipped a bartender in order to get a free beer or two. I’ve overtipped a lot of bartenders, though. And I’ve gotten a free beer or two. But this is the first I heard of the whole cause-effect thingy.
Bribery rocks!
Sean sings a lot.
A LOT!!! hear me?
and he’s never bought me a beer.
but…i don’t flirt w/ him either.
Thanks for writing this article. I am a loyal Sean fan and I love the Hutch! I always knew he was worthy of the crown! He’s the only reason to go, that and to annoy people with my mediocre singing voice. I LOVE YOU SEAN!
I always knew that Sean was worthy of the crown. I have been a loyal fan of Sean and the Hutch since February ’08 and he’s the only reason I go. I LOVE YOU SEAN!
Good work, Kiala. The last time a Karaoke article was featured in our lovely paper (I’m lookin’ your way, dear friend Justin Sanders), it caused a gigantor shitstorm. A shitstorm, I tell you! The Alibi won’t return our calls to this day!
So – I applaud you on your professionalism and Science-y ways. Nobody can argue with Science.
Thank you Autumn! Science…the great equalizer.
Oh, I miss the equalizer. That was a great show.
SEan is successful because he creates a show that the audience participates in. It’s more like a variety show with special guests (of all talent levels) than a typical karaoke bar. Sean sings because it’s part of the show, and he often sings duets with the singers, with their full delight and approval. Everyone is welcommed. Everyone is encouraged. Everyone has a good time. And NO ONE tips Sean to be put ahead of the line. It simply doesn’t happen. Sean loves what he does and it spills over into the crowd, which is obvious to anyone to goes there. Just check it out and see for yourself.
SEan is successful because he creates a show that the audience participates in. It’s more like a variety show with special guests (of all talent levels) than a typical karaoke bar. Sean sings because it’s part of the show, and he often sings duets with the singers, with their full delight and approval. Everyone is welcommed. Everyone is encouraged. Everyone has a good time. And NO ONE tips Sean to be put ahead of the line. It simply doesn’t happen. Sean loves what he does and it spills over into the crowd, which is obvious to anyone to goes there. Just check it out and see for yourself.
You forgot to poll the Galaxy!! WE LOVE THE LEPRECHAUN!!! I vote Patrick Finney at the Galaxy the best KJ in Portland. And he dresses up in great costumes – not all the time, mind you, but definitely for special occasions! Check it out!
Like pornography, though the karaoke experience tends to get tarred with the same brush by those who haven’t checked it out, there are all kinds of karaoke for all kinds of tastes. Among the ones you neglected to visit, the Galaxy has the greatest variety of singers and music they choose to perform (a six-foot blonde transsexual bellowing Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” is a treasured memory), and Suki’s has the largest selection of songs to choose from (I haven’t seen any other place where I could do Traffic’s “Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys” and have been surprised to experience trouble finding the Moody Blues’ “Story in Your Eyes” at other places). I personally like the KJ at the Galaxy, but the guy at Suki’s is a real Dick.
2 things that seemed to be glossed over:
1) “I boast the best karaoke experience in Southeast. Maybe even in Portland.”—Sean Bailey, KJ at the Hutch on Holgate, in an unsolicited email sent to the Mercury.
2) Nearly everyone I spoke with had something positive to say about the Hutch, and especially about Sean’s singing voice. (Which you’ll get to hear about 400 times in the space of two hours. Did I mention that?)
Only half as many singers are able to get up to sing at The Hutch as could, because douchebag Sean sings inbetween everysong. Sean seems to think people go there for the Sean Douchebag Bailey show. They don’t. They go because the drinks are reasonably priced, the staff is cool, and they’ve got a good songbook. My friends and I used to go there A LOT. We don’t anymore, because we couldn’t stand having our time wasted by the preening douchebag.
Oh, and he so think people love to hear him that he also takes it upon himself to sing back-up on while you sing, whether you’ve asked for it or not.
Seriously….douchebag.
2 things that seemed to be glossed over:
1) “I boast the best karaoke experience in Southeast. Maybe even in Portland.”—Sean Bailey, KJ at the Hutch on Holgate, in an unsolicited email sent to the Mercury.
2) Nearly everyone I spoke with had something positive to say about the Hutch, and especially about Sean’s singing voice. (Which you’ll get to hear about 400 times in the space of two hours. Did I mention that?)
Only half as many singers are able to get up to sing at The Hutch as could, because douchebag Sean sings inbetween everysong. Sean seems to think people go there for the Sean Douchebag Bailey show. They don’t. They go because the drinks are reasonably priced, the staff is cool, and they’ve got a good songbook. My friends and I used to go there A LOT. We don’t anymore, because we couldn’t stand having our time wasted by the preening douchebag.
Oh, and he so think people love to hear him that he also takes it upon himself to sing back-up on while you sing, whether you’ve asked for it or not.
Seriously….douchebag.
“I think he sang around 400 songs in the two hours I was there”
what you forgot to mention is that those were other peoples songs that he was singing with/over them. in most karaoke bars you can ask the kj to accompany you if you want harmonies, a duet, or just need help with an unfamiliar song. at the hutch you have to ask him to please let you sing your song by yourself.
you seem to imply that it’s bad for a kj to bump people up when they tip yet that is the only way a kj can make any money. if i am not mistaken, i have tipped sean and been bumped up in rotation as well.
your survey slips fell on uncaring patrons at chopsticks because people breeze in and out of there from all over the city and don’t really give a damn about the kj. the hutch is more of a neighborhood thing. not many people are going to drive out of their way for a marginal song selection, crappy sound system and a such a smokey enviroment that you reak after setting foot in the door. so your survey was actually rating the patrons not the kj.
for a front page story i would have thought that you also would have sought out some of the other karaoke spots around town such as galaxy, chopsticks III, bc’s, alibi…etc.
@samshmam…
You said, “you seem to imply that it’s bad for a kj to bump people up when they tip yet that is the only way a kj can make any money.”
I never implied anything of the sort.
What I said was, “Call me amoral (you wouldn’t be the first), but I thought the capitalistic excitement of over tipping a KJ in order to get your song in faster was the American way!”
I’m all for it. And all for Sean.
Maybe you should read the article again. Why not? It’s fun.
“@samshmam…
You said, “you seem to imply that it’s bad for a kj to bump people up when they tip yet that is the only way a kj can make any money.”
I never implied anything of the sort.
What I said was, “Call me amoral (you wouldn’t be the first), but I thought the capitalistic excitement of over tipping a KJ in order to get your song in faster was the American way!””
i read your intent and i understand that you aren’t against it but it does read as if you are contrasting your revued karaoke venues and kjs against each other and by emphasising that it happens at chopsticks it seemed you were implying that it doesn’t occur at your “king’s” joint.
“I’m all for it. And all for Sean.”
obviously.
“But you forgot to mention my favorite local stupid karaoke blah blah!”
Yeah, not gonna play that game. But I went to the Galaxy for the first time last week — place was PACKED on a Sunday night. Some really great singers singing all sorts of random songs, though I couldn’t tell who the KJ was (nor had I ever heard that term before this article). But I got claustrophobic and the horrible service sent me packing after a beer.