What does it take to be the best… at Karaoke?

Barging past a swarm of small children jostling upwards from the seafront, I arrive at the Bournemouth Pavilion Theatre. It is, with the best will in the world, an ugly building, like a bingo hall had sex with a secondary school. Inside is a different story. Its intestines are a marbled maze of tiles and carpets, dressed with long wooden handrails and dotted with dramatic stained glass lights. 

A woman tells me she has been coming here since the 1960s; according to her husband she saw The Beatles here. This turns out not to be true; still, it feels like the kind of place the Beatles could have played, even if they didn’t. Tonight, the theatre will play host to two separate events. In the main room, 1990s acid jazz pioneers The Brand New Heavies are playing, and in the side room, it’s the final round of a competition to decide the UK’s representative at this year’s Karaoke World Championships. 

The grand finale will be held in Finland, where representatives from more than 30 countries will compete to win a one-off recording contract and a €5,000 cash prize. Whoever wins tonight will be defending the UK’s title as reigning champion, after Grimsby’s Ellie Butler won last year’s event in Panama with her rendition of The Impossible Dream. 

Things kick off at 7.15pm. By 7.17pm, Lauren, the event’s organiser, is careering across the stage, set between luscious red curtains, in a sequinned dress, backed up by a well-drilled troupe from the local performance school. She looks and sounds like a popstar. 

The competition’s host continues the theme. A slick, slim man in a slick, slim suit, only his punchlines are more polished than his shoes. “You’re from Leeds?” he asks one group in the crowd. “Well enjoy another season in The Championship”. 

It’s good, honest fun, dripping in camp and determined not to take itself too seriously. Perfectly placed then, as a microcosm of this nation’s karaoke culture. Whilst some other parts of the world – notably Japan – take the pastime somewhat seriously, in England our relationship with karaoke is synonymous with office parties, weddings and – crucially – lashings of booze. 

“They already have my respect for just being up there,” says Lisa, one-third of tonight’s judging panel and a karaoke industry stalwart. “It’s so hard to sing and be judged for it. It’s not your skill on a guitar or the drums or anything else. It’s your voice. It’s a part of you. It’s quite intimate”.

I, too, respected the bravery of each of tonight’s 10 finalists. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fearful, too. I have an almost Pavlovian response to the word “karaoke” that tenses my body in preparation for the an earbashing. 

The host introduces the first of the evening’s competitors. It’s Kelly, a primary school teacher who runs the school choir, who used to sing in competitions herself as a child. In a long black dress that shimmers like fish scales in the soft glow of the overhead lights, she sings I’ll Never Love Again by Lady Gaga from the soundtrack to A Star Is Born. And from the very first note my fears were allayed. Simply put, she’s exceptional. Accomplished without being showy; relaxed without appearing detached. 

Six songs later, a man called Steven rocks back and forth on his heels in a cowboy hat, growling his way through the country music staple Tennessee Whiskey. I know for a fact that he’s from Norfolk, but for four and a half minutes he was the embodiment of the American South. 

Myron sits in the corner with his earphones in, an expression of intense concentration on his round, open face. A thin moustache perches on his top lip; the index finger of his right hand taps along to a rhythm only he can hear. Eight more contestants chatter happily. Most speak of a tendency towards self-doubt. A kinship fills the room like hairspray. You would never guess this group had met for the first time today.

It is an evening of false first impressions: a karaoke competition with an abundance of heart; a building with an ugly facade and a Titanic interior; a wide-shouldered construction worker with a soft heart. Steven tells how he has spent the past four weeks working in London, separated from his partner back at home in King’s Lynn, and how he misses her when he’s away.

He has auditioned multiple times for The X Factor and made this very final twice before, but it is only in the past couple of years, thanks to the support of his partner, that he’s had the confidence to really follow his dream of singing professionally. With his partner running his social media accounts and managing his bookings, the pair have secured regular work singing in pubs, clubs and at weddings. This evening has the potential to be their big break.

Marina opens the second half of the evening with a gut-wrenching rendition of All I Ask by Adele. She is already an experienced performer at just 28 years of age, having competed in the Greek version of The Voice back in 2019. 

“I received a call from the production company and I didn’t know what was going on,” she tells me. “They asked me to attend an audition and I had to plan my whole life around this decision. After a couple of days I was on the aeroplane, flying to Greece to try one more time for something that I had never succeeded in.” Marina made it all the way to the semi-finals – to this day she doesn’t know who gave her name to the show. 

Next up is Robbie, who has travelled all the way from Glasgow to compete. His song is another classic: I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston. The performance seems to take off the handbrake; the mood changes and for the rest of the night the room is at full speed. Polite applause is substituted with rapturous dancing, impolite whispers replaced by gleeful singalongs. Marina returns to the side of the stage, swaying arm in arm with a member of Robbie’s travelling Glaswegian fanclub.

Then Myron is back with One Voice before Steven steps up with 1980s hair rock anthem Alone. “Yeah, it’s a cheesy power ballad… I’m 41,” he quips over the song’s isolated piano intro, before sauntering smoothly through the opening verse and launching two-footed into the chorus. He sounds magnificent, soaring, as though Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler never got hooked on Class A drugs. I begin to wonder if we’ve found a winner. 

The remaining singers continue the party mood with a feisty rendition of James Brown’s ‘It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World and an ambitious singalong to Queen’s Somebody To Love.

Soon enough, the slick, slim man is poised, microphone in hand, waiting to announce the winner. He waits. And he waits. And the pause continues for so long that he is forced to bring the microphone up to his face to clarify – “This isn’t for dramatic effect, I’m just waiting for the judges to make their decision”. 

A nervous laugh ripples through the crowd. They’ve been waiting so long it has grown almost farcical. But it is not an easy decision to make. I’m no expert, but any competition that sees singers successfully channelling the likes of James Brown, Freddie Mercury and Whitney Houston is surely one to be settled by the finest of margins. There is a genuine tension in the room. 

The tension is replaced by an enormous cheer as Steven is announced as the winner. He thanks his partner and her family, who have travelled to Bournemouth to offer their support. He is crying, holding a Union Jack flag above his head. He will represent the UK at the World Karaoke Championships in Finland – a testament to his persistence, talent, and ability to surround himself with good people. 

• The Karaoke World Championships UK is sponsored by Vocal Star