
Krazy over karaoke: Enthusiasts will be converging on the First Person Arts Festival
FOR THOSE OF US who are petrified at the thought of getting up in front of a roomful of strangers to sing, the idea of karaoke is enough to make us stay home in our pajamas. But for some, it elicits a much different reaction.
Leo Bernardo, 41, a regular at DJ RockNRon's karaoke nights at Havana in New Hope and the Ivy Inn in Princeton, N.J., sees it in a more positive light.
"It's a spiritual thing," Bernardo explained of his four-night-per-week habit. "It's almost like I'm making a connection with something higher or something greater than myself. It's hard to describe really, but it's like I'm tapping into my soul - to what I'm really supposed to be doing and why. I just can't get enough of it."
This Friday night, karaoke enthusiasts like Bernardo will be the focus of a hybrid event during this year's First Person Arts Festival. Writer Brian Raftery, author of "Don't Stop Stop Believin': How Karaoke Conquered the World and Changed My Life," is the literary mind behind an evening composed of part reading, part pop-culture chatter, and part live karaoke hosted by local karaoke jockey Sara Sherr, daughter of RockNRon, aka Ron Sherr.
"It will be a little bit like a karaoke talk show in some ways," Raftery explained. "I've never actually done one of these with a karaoke DJ. When you do things at Barnes & Noble you are not going there to sing. You can't go to a book reading at Barnes & Noble and bring a karaoke catalog because you would never be welcome back again."
Raftery, 33, recalled his lack of musical talent from an early age growing up outside of Philadelphia in Devon.
"I had no social inhibitions about walking around outside singing radio songs really loudly," he said. "But, I was a terrible singer. I never wanted to be a rock star. I never wanted to be famous. I just wanted to be a singer in a band. And by the time I was 10, I was like, 'This is not going particularly well for me.' Even I could tell I had a bad voice."
Although he was too young to actively participate, Raftery was introduced to the world of karaoke at age 13 during a yearlong stint in Hawaii. Years later he developed what might be considered a habit.
"My friends and I had nothing else to do when we first moved here," he said of his home base in the boroughs of New York City. "The nightclub scene wasn't really something that we wanted to be a part of. It was kind of fun, but it was very expensive and we didn't fit in."
Enter the karaoke bar.
"The best songs for karaoke are not number one hits; they're number two hits," Raftery explained. "They're the songs that didn't become so big that you get sick of them, but they are big enough and ubiquitous enough that people are like, 'Oh, yeah, I really like that song. I forgot how good that was.' Or how ridiculous it was. Or how catchy it was."
For Leo Bernardo, his obsession began two years ago while on a business trip to Memphis, Tenn. After happening upon a nearly empty karaoke bar, he performed "Hard To Say I'm Sorry" by Chicago and quickly lost his beginner's jitters. Confidently, he submitted a second song, this time "Beds Are Burning" by the Australian rock band Midnight Oil.
As if it were a sign from the karaoke gods, within minutes the bar filled with about 50 Aussies and Brits who were in town on business.
"They went nuts!" Bernardo, of Ewing, N.J., recalled with a laugh as he shifted his weight on the barstool. "We all sang the song together. They were all cheering, they were all yelling and pumping their fists in the air. I'd have to say at that moment I was hooked. I'll never forget it."
Josh Eisenberg, 24, a filmmaker from Kendall Park, N.J., who does karaoke every Wednesday and Thursday nights with DJ RockNRon at the Ivy Inn in Princeton, said that karaoke is a unifying force, creating instant community.
"If [the crowd] hears something that they like they just go crazy," he said during a phone interview while shooting his most recent trailer on location in Amity, N.Y. "People come over and high-five you and say, 'That's awesome!' You just feed off the crowd."
Like Bernardo, Eisenberg admitted to feeling nervous before his first time taking the stage.
"My favorite song at the time was from the Lion King - 'Hakuna Matata,' " he said with a muffled laugh. "It's really goofy and there's no way I could really screw that up."
Now he makes sure that he's ready before climbing onstage.
"I just practice by singing in the car most of the time," Eisenberg said. "Usually I plan out what I'm going to do beforehand because when you go up there with no plan you look really stupid."




