Jackson Free Press

There was nothing in particular about playing the Paul McCoy to Jessica's Amy Lee in a rendition of Evanescence's Top 10 hit "Bring Me to Life" that attracted Robert Renfroe. Lee, a regular whose last name Renfroe has never known, merely asked for support. So, in the communal spirit of Karaoke Night, the 27-year-old employee of the State Office of Volunteerism took the stage.

Matt Collette, the DJ that night, says karaoke's appeal is simple: "It gives you a chance to be in the spotlight. It's your 15 minutes of fame, followed by cheers and applause. Certain people will just blow me away. I'll tell them, 'You're a professional singer.'"

Given the lyrics from a prompter, Renfroe threw his energy into the chorus as Jessica carefully handled her segments. Soon after they had left the stage, they were several tables apart, and, within an hour, Jessica decided to go home as Sir Mix A Lot's "Baby Got Back" was ending.

For the past seven months, Fenian's Pub has dedicated its Monday evenings to the karaoke crowd. It was mid-spring of last year, in fact, when the pub owners agreed to host Matt the DJ on the usually semi-vacated weekday. Since then, the pub's weekend crowds hardly rival its dedicated Monday audience-cum-performers. The evening's mood is just the sort of "perfect harmony" that karaoke inventor Daisuke Inoue invoked in his acceptance speech for the 2004 Ig Nobel Peace Prize—a parody of the Nobel Prizes. Inoue's achievement was "providing an entirely new way for people to learn to tolerate one another."

Each Fenian's regular is familiar with the other's habits and preferences. Often someone will request a favorite interpretation of Matt's or Tom's or Jane's (last names aren't part of the game). The Pub seems to have the edge over the Sportsman's Lodge, Martin's, or W.C. Don's for its unique intimacy and karaoke fervor.

Collette, who is Jackson's most active, if not most well-known, karaoke DJ, sees a more level playing field. "The crowd reaction at Fenian's is the best," he says. "Everyone there on Monday night is there for karaoke, and the audience is caring and applauding. Places like W.C. Don's and the Sportsman's Lodge have audiences that get up less, and there's less applause, but that appeals to a different set of tastes."

Collette took up deejaying for karaoke when he had to stand in for his twin brother Mike at Martin's. Ever since, his venues have become more diverse, while his audience has expanded. But he finds little distinguishing a sixth-grade birthday party from the weekly bar scene. "Everyone," Collette says excitedly, "is anxiously asking, 'When am I gonna get to do my next song?'"

Sometimes, the moment is about more than the song, too.

For months, Renfroe would playfully address Laura Hastings as "That Girl." Before he began his rendition of Melissa Etheridge's "Little Secret," months ago, he asked from the stage if Hastings would go on a date with him. Renfroe is still recognized in restaurants and in grocery stores for this very public gesture. The night I interviewed them, they were celebrating her 26th birthday.

"It's thrilling," Hastings—who bears a slight resemblance to Alanis Morissette—said. "I was asked to do 'You Oughta Know,' and the crowd really got into it. It was a rush."

For all the surface spontaneity, Matt the DJ is keeping track of every song so that performers can return to the crowd favorites. With his cataloguing system, Collette also tries to push the performers further.

"Some people stick to country or rap," Collette said, "but sometimes I've made suggestions based on what I've seen. Although some people like to rehearse and know ahead of time, others will tell me to just pick something fun or different. I might give a male a female's song, or just pick up an absolutely random mystery song out of the box. It tends to work out."

More commonly, however, the performers have gone through a process of revision. Renfroe might come upon an old, vaguely familiar favorite one day, download it through iTunes the next, and have a grasp of whether it complements his vocal range long before he takes the stage. Others try new pieces at venues like Martin's or the Sportsman's Lodge before attempting them beside more polished performances.

"The best songs," Renfroe says, "are the ones that you forgot you knew. Those are the special performances ... '80s songs are almost forgotten. It's a sort of discovery, really."