Karaoke occurs throughout Monterey County almost every night of the week. A creative and supportive community keeps the culture alive.

Tuesday nights at the bar are typically uneventful – except at the Britannia Arms pub in downtown Monterey.

Five people at 9:15pm will balloon to 50 by 9:30pm most Tuesday nights. T Dyer is among the first of the crowd to arrive and start writing a list of songs on slips of paper – typically starting with some from Taylor Swift or Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”

It’s karaoke night. Host Ryan Rico is there to set the stage and he has no shortage of performers. Anyone in attendance would think it’s a happenin’ Saturday night. Rico joins Wednesday night host, nicknamed Ghostrider, whose signature is belting out heavy metal screamo songs. But before long, a man with an electric guitar shows up ready to add to the atmosphere in the already-crowded bar. He needs little help igniting the crowd to cheer for both him and whomever is singing.

Karaoke is a community and a culture in Monterey County. Though the relative size of it may be small compared to larger communities, here it’s palpable. And it’s everywhere. Nearly every night of the week boasts a karaoke night at bars and restaurants throughout the county. Each venue has its own signature, but those devoted to showing up keep the culture alive.

“It’s a good way to get your energy out,” Rico says. “If you have a good day, sing and celebrate. If you have a bad day, get it out.”

RICO HOSTS AT MULTIPLE VENUES FOR THE CULTURAL PHENOMENON, but that’s not the only hat he wears. He is also part-DJ, part-performer and part-mentor to newer karaoke hosts like Zane Gray, who until recently was hosting at Sly’s Refueling Station on Cannery Row on Monday nights. He credits Rico for his expertise.

“I apprenticed with [Rico] for seven to eight months, but could’ve probably done it in four,” says Gray, who works at Zucchini’s Magic Shop and is beginning to plan karaoke nights there.

Hosting a karaoke night takes more than just a machine and a playlist sans-lyrics.

“You have to be outgoing and roll with situations,” Gray says, but that’s only one component of it.

According to him, the qualities of a good karaoke host include some obvious traits like customer service and good communication skills. But the host must also be able to figure out how to order singers so that they don’t get lost in the crowd.

Another colleague and friend of Gray’s, Kyle Howard, hosts at Bulldog Sports Pub on Lighthouse Avenue in Monterey on Sundays and at Cibo Ristorante Italiano on Alvarado Street on Thursdays. He employs a system for getting newcomers onto the microphone early so they get a chance to be hooked into singing. Like Rico to Gray, Howard was also an apprentice to another host in Fresno who goes by the stage name D.J. 808.

Surprisingly, the ability to sing is not a mandatory requirement for a good karaoke host. Gray, for example, never used to sing before and yet found his own voice through hosting.

“Now, I sing all the time,” he says. “You don’t have to be good to sing karaoke. No one judges.”

Gray remarks that karaoke is a way to have fun through being involved.

“You are not going to a music show, you are part of the music show,” he says, making clear that the object of it is for people to enjoy themselves. “The only time people get upset is when someone is intentionally trying to upset others, and that rarely happens.”

One incident Gray recalls is when a spectator was attempting to overpower a regular singer. When told by another audience member to stop, the customer angrily left the bar, only to come back and confront the singer directly. Another example Gray recalls is when someone tried to force her apprehensive husband to sing, only to angrily and embarrassingly take up the microphone herself and kill the vibe.

Gray says the key to handling those situations is to remain lighthearted.

“I don’t like to joke about the person because that’s targeting someone, and that’s not what I’m there for,” he says. “I instead make a joke about something else and move on to keep the show going. People will forget it.”

Hosts are not the only people who help keep a karaoke show positive. Regular singers, like those who help swell Britannia Arms on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, also understand the ethos behind the activity. They understand that singing karaoke can be therapy, a form of self-expression and a way to become braver in the spotlight.

Becca Miller, an eight-year veteran bartender at the Brit, gets it.

“Tuesdays are my favorite nights,” she says. She’ll also sign up to sing when she’s off the clock. “Britannia has the draw for it because it’s the only extracurricular activity. Everyone wants to do karaoke.”

AS THE BAR THAT OFFERS THE MOST KARAOKE NIGHTS PER WEEK (FOUR) IN THE COUNTY, Britannia Arms draws a regular crowd, but it’s not always quite so big – even karaoke singers and hosts need rest. But one man is there every karaoke night. He shows up with an unplugged electric guitar to cheer the singers on when he’s not on the mic himself.

Kevin Martinez is an icon of karaoke at the pub, and he’s on a mission to uplift performers as rock stars. He’s a little coy about his persona, though.

“I just like singing songs,” he says, “and pretending I’m like Mick Jagger and a star and all that.”

Martinez has the look of a rock star, and not just because he sports his electric guitar. Much like his Rolling Stones idol, there’s an intensity to him that embodies raw and rebellious appeal. And that appeal comes out when he’s on the microphone. Martinez endured a tumor in 2007 due to Cowden’s Syndrome, leading to multiple surgeries. The health challenge gave him unique facial and vocal features, but the karaoke community uplifts him every time he’s there.

“I’ve met so many people here,” he says as he shows his phone’s photo album full of selfies with bar-goers at the pub. “I think a lot of people want to get recognized, and that’s hard in a place that’s a transient community. People like pretending to be stars and having their moment for the night.”

Host Rico corroborates this: “We love [Martinez],” he says. “He puts a smile on people’s faces.”

Martinez has been coming to karaoke at Britannia Arms since he moved to Monterey from Gilroy in 2013. Music has always been a passion of his – he recalls singing along to records when he was young. “Wild Horses” is his go-to karaoke song because he’s a big Rolling Stones fan, and also because he loves the sense of romantic tension that he can use to rouse the crowd. They respond positively.

The guitar Martinez plays is not just the perfect sonic accessory to get the crowd going at the Brit, it’s also a symbol of the compassion the karaoke community embodies. Prior to the Covid-19 pandemic, Martinez would come to karaoke nights with a ukulele in tow. Rico and Miller recognized this, and that’s why they thought it was odd when he began showing up without it.

They and other regulars learned that a random harasser had targeted Martinez on the street, believed to be because of his physical appearance, and smashed his instrument. But the staff and regulars at Britannia Arms didn’t take that sitting down. Upon hearing what happened, they pooled money together and bought Martinez a guitar, tagged with their signatures.

Eventually, Martinez upgraded to the guitar he now has – a black-and-white six-string electric with a whammy bar – living proof that barriers and bullying are no match for the karaoke community.

CONFIDENCE BARRIERS AREN’T THE ONLY ONES TO BE BROKEN THROUGH KARAOKE. In Salinas, Spanish karaoke nights are happening at both longtime establishments such as Los Dos Potrillos and newer mainstays like Brew-N-Krew. Each have a unique twist on the singing activity.

“The whole restaurant is always filled,” says Tatiana Rodriguez of Los Dos Potrillos, where Spanish karaoke nights happen every Friday from 6:30-11pm.

The draw is so big that even the restaurant’s owner, Carlos Murillo, regularly attends. On theme with his restaurant is his go-to karaoke song, “Los Dos Vicios” by Los Cadetes.

The relatively young Main Street brewery Brew-N-Krew just recently started an interactive Spanish karaoke night on Fridays (as of July 5) with a “Say goodbye to your ex” night.

Marlene Garcia of Brew-N-Krew hosts, dressed in a summery red dress and high heels. She picks up a microphone and begins walking through the brewery, dropping other self-amplifying microphones at all of the tables. Eight women are sitting at a couple of tables in the corner.

“You’re going to love the way we sing,” says Karina Rocha, who is sitting with the group.

She has a less-than-quiet swagger about her. Her mother, relatives and in-laws are accompanying her. The theme of the night and the rest of the summer, according to Garcia, is “heartbreak.”

Garcia begins walking throughout the brewery telling a story from her life in Spanish about how she is still in love with a man who doesn’t love her back. She paints a tapestry of unrequited love in her words: she has lost her engagement ring and her wedding dress is still hanging in her mother’s room. She then asks everyone in the audience to raise their hand if they’ve had their heart broken.

That’s followed with a more personal question – has anyone ever broken a heart? Every hand in the room shoots up. A “nurse” then brings out a first aid kit – with potions and dusts intended to make her and her guests realize the reality of this heartbreak. A pill bottle that says ¡Ay Te Dejó! (Spanish slang for “they left you”) is brought out, and a pretend dust is sprinkled on those receptive to Garcia’s story. The purpose of the “medicine” is to make everyone understand the gravity of heartbreak.

The only way to heal? To sing.

Immediately after, the music starts and Rocha takes the microphone with confidence. She banters with the host despite not knowing Garcia. Then she hits every note of the late Jenni Rivera’s “La Chacalosa.” It is a song that, though controversial because of its implications in drug culture, tells the story of a powerful female figure. Heartbreak may be palpable, but so is the strength of femininity.

“We’re already weird,” Garcia says, remarking on the uniqueness of the miniature brewery on Main Street in Salinas. She says the staff here is used to asking themselves, “How do we bring people in?”

Locally, interactive karaoke is unique to Brew-N-Krew, where audience members can simply pick up a cordless microphone from a table and join in. In between songs, the “nurse” goes around and checks audience members’ hearts with a stethoscope, adding to the fun.

The rest of the evening at Brew-N-Krew is filled with popular songs often been heard in Mexican households, according to Garcia. Collective karaoke takes on a life of its own, not just with hits by Jenni Rivera, but classic tunes like “La Carcacha” and “Si Una Vez” by Selena Quintanilla, the Queen of Tejano Music, as well. The heartbreak theme is relatable, and most know the lyrics.

BEYOND THE “WE TAKE CARE OF OUR OWN” COMMUNITY ASPECTS are the individuals who make karaoke a sight to be seen. People come to karaoke first and foremost to express themselves, according to hosts and participants, whether they are regulars or not.

On a Monday evening, Liam Fahey, Ian Anderson and Daniel Bustan drove down from Santa Cruz to sing “I’m Sorry Ms. Jackson” by OutKast together at Sly’s. Though the night isn’t as popular as at others like Britannia Arms, they came prepared.

“We love karaoke. We practiced the song twice in the car,” they explain. They understand there’s no expectation of being good. “It’s actually better if you’re bad,” says Fahey, who plays in a jazz band in Santa Cruz and uses karaoke as a means of practice.

Karaoke in Monterey County is ubiquitous. Establishments that take it seriously understand the aspects of a built-in economy, drawing regulars who come for the performance and become customers.

But the availability of karaoke nights isn’t what makes them special. It’s the energy supported by the community that does that. Microphones by definition amplify an otherwise-unseen identity for singers and hosts alike. Anyone who tries karaoke, whether a veteran singer or timid first-timer will find a way to make themselves shine. That’s what the karaoke community continues to show up for.

In Martinez’s case, he recalls several times that people have recognized him for his creative outlet.

“That’s how a lot of people know me,” he says. “They say to me, ‘I’ve seen you do karaoke and you [sing] Wild Horses,’” proving that a go-to karaoke song is a more vivid picture than only our outward appearance.