Murphis Karaoke

As of this writing MURPHIS is closed… well, looks like it’s been closed for over a year now — but the website is still accepting bookings, so FYI Unilocalers.

If you are good and boozed up and want some karaōke, head to this bar. There are no rules, no order, and no shame — but not in a good way. — my friend Mark S.
This place is a cool spot right on Clerkenwell. Downstairs bar/​dance floor = plus!
100 people passing a microphone around a sweaty intoxicated room with the lyrics of any nondescript 90’s pop-​song = interesting.
It’s worth trying, really.
Don’t hog the mic.

I love karaōke — LOVE it — and do not take it seriously by any means, which is why I was particularly happy to see that no one there took it seriously either. The song choice was varied and generally pretty awesome, i.e. Spice Girls to Warren G, Backstreet Boys (may have been me) to Rage Against the Machine.
That’s about all the good I have to say about the karaōke aspect. As a frequent patron of the karaōke bars in NYC, I prefer having a private room and plenty of sake for liquid shame remover to go along a good group of friends. I didn’t see that option while I was there, so the result were 40 minute queues to get your song on the board. I expected this. I did not expect that I would not even get the microphone from the drunk crowd when my name and song were called.
This bummed me out. As it was a Saturday evening when I was there I planned to salvage my night by drinking heavily. I made my way to the bar. Expensive beer served in cans — practical sure, pleasing no. Cocktail menu? Light, set, and bartenders didn’t seem keen on giving much love to them.
Despite all this, I had a very fun night. That is until one fine, respectable gentleman throw a beer can across the room and it hit me in the back spilling beer everywhere on me and the dame sitting next to me. Grounds for expulsion from the bar? Why of course not tiny bouncer man, I’ll just forget it happened. Confrontation did not ensure as the culprit decided a «beer-​and-​run» was a good idea. Please meet me at the flagpole, sir.
If you are good and boozed up and want some karaōke, head to this bar. There are no rules, no order, and no shame — but not in a good way.

So much fun! This place can be a bit intimidating at first since the karaōke is all out in the open, unlike places like Lucky Voice where you get your own room. But the trade-​off is that it’s free (or at least it was when we arrived. Not sure if that’s the case every night)
After a few drinks, you do tend to loosen up though. My friends and I just ended up singing with anyone in the room.
Bar staff were a little surly, but I suppose anyone would be if they had to listen to drunk people sing/​scream Total Eclipse of the Heart every night.

hahahahahahahahahaha ok, I hate karaōke, but the people were really entertaining to watch. It was like every stereotype under the sun, a guy that looked like he was going to audition for X Factor the next day, some Asian businessmen, a group of girls that sang as trios so that none of them really had to commit to the lyrics…
The bartenders didn’t really know how to make shooters, but we gave them instructions and they were more than happy to play along with our requests. It’s a strange strange place… maybe a karaōke connoisseur would have a better opinion than mine.

Ok, I must preface this review by stating that I am not a karaōke person. I’m a musical theatre person with an ok voice and very little shame/​self-​consciousness, but karaōke was never my «thang». I have, however, gotten dragged out to a few Karaōke Nights and managed to have a blast (alcohol helps), but my time at Murphi’s was NOT one of those nights.
The place is like a movie set for a film that takes place in a SUPER SKETCHY BAR. Like, Night At the Roxbury-​style. It is ridiculous and seedy, with pounded-​aluminium floors, rainbow LEDs flickering in the walls, and just the absolute weirdest energy I’ve ever experienced in a bar, pub, club, restaurant, anywhere.
Despite the myriad (albeit cheap) bottles of spirits behind the bar, the bartender’s only response to my request for a Manhattan was an embarrassed smile and a quick scramble for the laminated and illustrated drink recipe guide. Sweet though he was, I decided to just go with a difficult-​to-​ruin vodka-​tonic. It arrived warm with a single ice-​cube, which did little more than water the drink down.
The one good thing about this place is that, at least while I was there, it wasn’t one of those places where the patrons take their karaōke VERY. SERIOUSLY. There were plenty of jokey, silly, drunken performances, including the Fresh Prince theme song and three separate renditions of «Weee built this cittttyyyyyyyyy!!! Weee built this citttyyyy on ROOOOOCK AAAAND ROOOOOOLLLLLLLLL». Even though the venue was Super Sketch City, USA, the fact that people didn’t seem to take their karaōke too seriously made it a goofy and silly night rather than the totally-​awful night it had the potential to be.
The other thing saving this from being a 1-​star review is that they have Tupac and Warren G on the song list. TUPAC AND WARREN G, MUTHAFUGGAH!!! I was soooooooooooo ready to drop some Regulate or California Love on that place, but I figured that the performance would have been lost on the crowd. Next time.

My *best* karaōke night in London!
Well, OK, my *only* karaōke night in London.
But, I only had two nights in London. so.
OK. in the way of explanation, I’m a karaōke attention whore. when we decide where to go on vacations. I’m good wherever Susie *says* we’ll go so long as I know that while I’m there I can get in a little karaōke and by «karaōke» I do not mean karaōke done in private rooms. oh no. I mean public barroom karaōke. the kind where you get up to sing in front of drunken strangers. get their attention. and mebe make their acquaintance.
Because my London stay regrettably did not include a Tuesday night when the Unilocaler-​recommended Hot Breath Karaōke show was playing. I went a-​Google-​ing and came up with Murphi’s Karaōke bar… way on the other side of town (in Shoreditch. we were staying in Kensington). but a six-​night-​a-​week karaōke venue that I figgered was a likely spot to meet fanatics of my ilk.
I got there on a Thursday evening around 8:30. It was a little restaurant, with a long bar, with just a few regulars hanging about, but the karaōke was already going. So the few of us present went at it putting in a bunch of songs. Then as the evening progressed more patrons crowded in. so then I had an audience. a nice friendly, responsive audience. good.
Then as it got *really* crowded, some of the regulars asked if I’d like to join them downstairs… Downstairs? You mean like private rooms? oh no. they meant downstairs a whole ‘nuther public karaōke bar. with *more* floor space. a regular DJ booth. a *disco* floor… wireless mics. and a big wall mirror so you and any dancers or other friends committing acts of tomfoolery could *look* at yourselves as you carried on. what’s not to like about that?
So what they do is on nights when it gets packed topside (my guess would be Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights) They open up the downstairs. More room for revelry and because you got karaōke in two places. shorter rotations and more chances to sing in both places. What more can I say?
OK the song selection was decent. not extensive. but I got to mingle with a lively, young, friendly crowd. make some new Facebook friends. and revel in all that wonderful four-​minute-​at-​a-​time attention that karaōke whores like to revel in… until. 11:30. when I figgered I’d better start guessing my way back to my side of town before the tube shut down. Looked like things were heating up even more when I left.