There used to be a little man with a receding hairline and a weakness for KFC who’d stand in the corner of my local pub, press his lips to the microphone as if it were a juicy breadcrumbed thigh and effortlessly murder every Bon Jovi number in the catalogue. He was Karaoke Ken. A lost, deluded soul who upon being told he would, actually, nev
er be a rock star, took it upon himself to do the next best thing - stock up on his favourite hits and share them with the masses every Wednesday in The Bull and Cock. Occasionally he’d let the rest of us have a go, but most of the time it was just Ken. Just Ken and his karaoke, continuing to live the dream. Poor guy.
Anyway, it was with Ken in mind that I dubiously stepped into Lucky Voice last night – perhaps not all karaoke evenings had to focus on a Bon Wannabe with a bald patch. With eight other girls and a vocal warming session over a batch of 2 for 1 cocktails, I was more than ready for my singing debut. And although we were, admittedly, very merry by the time we arrived, we couldn’t help but notice the genuine charm of the doorman, the knowing smile of the receptionist who’s seen it all before and, oh, ok, the devilishly handsome bar man who gave us our first bottle of wine.
Yes. This is the classy kind of karaoke that was so lacking back in the Bull and Cock. There was no patterned carpet in sight. No beer stained cardboard folder full of ancient songs that no one knows, and no waft of greasy chicken what-so-ever. Lucky Voice takes Karaoke to new levels, and as we’d soon discover, new and extra high volumes. Thank god for the sound-proofed walls.
As we took our comfy leather seats in the largest of nine private rooms, the waiter brought us our wine in buckets of ice. Naturally I spilled my first glass, but it was soon topped up. All we had to do was press the little light on the wall and someone helpful would come running. Note to self, must install one of those at home. Wine spillages are par for the course however – you can take the girls out of the pub but you can’t take the alcohol out of the girls. We were more concerned with choosing our songs however, all of which are laid out in glossy books – there’s even an ‘inspire me’ folder in case you get stuck. As if we ever got stuck. More fun is punching the num
bers into the screen on the wall and skipping the ones you thought you could sing but actually can’t. (Most of them).
I forgot to mention, as always there were the few who swore they weren’t going to sing anything. “I’ll come but I’m not singing, I’ll just watch” they said. Yeah, right.
After five mojitos and a white wine injection, those bashful introverts were the ones who, three hours later, almost had a cat fight over the microphone when the Spice Girls came on.
It’s now almost 24 hours later and thanks to 170 photos and eight excruciating video clips captured on a mobile phone, we’ve been able to piece the night together. It looks (and sounds) like musical carnage but dear God, it was amazing. We’re all now complete Lucky Voice addicts, have signed ourselves up on the mailing list and have even begun to plot how we can justify a corporate membership. Team meeting in the deluxe booth over a few Madonna hits, anyone?
This is no Bull and Cock. This is pure karaoke heaven – a haven for the tone-deaf wannabe’s wandering aimlessly through Soho in need of a plan. Get yourself to Lucky Voice for a night so good you’ll probably forget it.
Poor Ken would wet his pants if he saw this place.
Book your top tuneful night out at Lucky voice here
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