AS A 25-YEAR-OLD karaoke virgin, I was afraid that Baby Grand, the new “singing bar” in Soho, would be a tacky joint. But when I strolled in one recent Friday night with my spotlight-loving sister in tow, the diminutive spot was a far cry from the American Idol reject’s lounge I had envisioned.
“We wanted to take the kitsch out of karaoke,” says Raylene Gorum, explaining the inspiration for the bar she opened along with her husband Mike Uy. “We really wanted to make it more grown-up.” Based on the décor alone, it appears the duo has succeeded: the sleek black-and-white space is an ode to Japanese minimalism, while a cozy alcove off the entrance houses New York’s tiniest art gallery (best viewed through the provided magnifying glass).This is not, in short, your average karaoke bar.
Before I’ve even settled onto my stool, Uy hoists the songbook—18,000 titles strong—in my direction and explains what the $1 they charge per song ensures: a negligible (if any) wait, an introduction for each performer and the affable owners’ personalized help. “We’ll change the pitch or beat of the song if you need it,” he assures me. “As two karaoke addicts, this is the bar we’ve always wished existed.” I nod, but know it will take more than just a friendly crowd and the promise of pitch control to get me up to the small stage.
Thankfully, Baby Grand takes its cocktails as seriously as it takes its music. Forgoing the brief food menu and interesting beer list (the cheapest, Sapporo, goes for $6), I select one of the dozen inventive concoctions on offer. First up is the “Elles Belles” ($12), a refreshing blend of gin, elderflower liqueur and limejuice. Next, I try the tasty “White Afghan” ($12), which goes down as smoothly as an iced chai but features the inhibition-lowering powers of Stoli. By now, my sister has polished off two of the bar’s signature bubble-tea cocktails ($13) and is belting out “Waterfalls” by TLC.
“You know,” Gorum says to me, as she mixes a vodka and espresso concoction called “Liquid Courage” ($10) for another patron, “studies show that people experience a huge rush of endorphins after they get up there and sing.”
I nod and assess the weekend crowd, many of them regulars. Gorum tells me that most of the patrons hit Baby Grand’s stage at some point, especially if they’re wooed there by Monday night’s show-tune theme. And with one more sip of my delicious drink, I submit my song request and proceed to join their ranks.
Before I know it, the opening chords of a Blue Swede’s “Hooked on a Feeling” are pulsing through Baby Grand, and soon I’m navigating the first verse. From behind the bar, Gorum gives a thumbs-up, while Uy motions for me to hold the microphone closer to my mouth. Overall, it goes pretty smoothly for a first-time performance.
“Well, how about that,” Gorum cheers when I’m finished. “We popped your cherry-oke.”
I grin, sign their first-timers book and know one thing for sure: with such genial host and potent cocktails, my relationship with Baby Grand is sure to be more than just a one-night stand.
> Baby Grand
161 Lafayette St. (at Grand St.), 212-219-8110
Dorri Olds
anonymous
