Cigars And Sinatra
Steven Maglio takes a sip of Johnnie Walker Red and water, then stands up from his corner seat at the bar at the Carnegie Club. It’s a little past 8 p.m. and he turns to look at himself in the mirror as he puts on his black bowtie, the final piece of his tuxedo. The 11-piece orchestra has already started playing, and the room is filled with people, some of them standing. “Oh, they’re hot tonight,” he says, his voice like a bass drum, resonant and melodic.
He moves a bit closer to the band, and starts swaying with the music. This is his crowd, his show, his time to shine. When he takes the stage he launches into a set of Frank Sinatra songs: “Luck Be a Lady,” “Summer Wind” and many more. For the next hour-and-a-half, the space is transformed into a Las Vegas showroom from decades ago. Most of the audience smokes cigars. All have drinks. A team of bartenders is busy pouring, shaking and mixing to keep the thirsty crowd sated.
Maglio has been the star of Saturday nights at the Carnegie Club for 21 years. “We’re the longest running night-club show in New York City,” he says with pride. “It’s basically an institution,” says Scott Asbury, general manager of the club, which is open to all.
A Christmas baby, Maglio was born in East Harlem in 1958. He moved to the Bronx when he was in grade school, which is where he first remembers hearing Sinatra’s voice. He saw the man eight times, the first when he was only 15 years old. Maglio speaks of him with a reverent tone and holds himself to a higher standard when it comes to Sinatra gigs. He says he has refused to take payment for performances at Patsy’s, the 56th Street Italian joint that Sinatra made famous.
He’s not the first to sing Sinatra here. “They had another guy doing the show; he had to take some time off,” he says. Maglio began his residence here in November of 2004 and, like Lou Gehrig stepping in for Wally Pipp, he just kept on going. Seats sell out months in advance and on a recent night, a line of hopefuls stretched out from the door in case of a cancellation. What once was two shows every Saturday has been expanded due to their popularity. Now, there are three shows: 5 p.m., 8 p.m. and 10:30 p.m. Some people love it so much they stay for more than one in an evening.
Maglio sounds a lot like Sinatra, has some of the man’s swagger and charm, even though the two don’t really look alike. He makes it a point to say to the crowd that he’s not a Sinatra impersonator. “I’m a tributeer,” he says, admitting that it’s a made-up word. He works the room, telling stories and jokes between songs. “My wife said, ‘why did you come home half-drunk last night?’ I said, ‘I ran out of money.’ ” The show is fun, a throwback, the music great and lively, a perfect accompaniment to the cigars and drinks. “Everyone feels like they’re going back in time when they walk in here.”
A former cigarette smoker, Maglio doesn’t smoke cigars, although he holds one as a prop on occasion. Like Ol’ Blue Eyes, he enjoys a good drink and keeps it handy, taking sips of that Scotch and water mid-set.
The room is filled with a mix of regulars and newcomers, people with white hair sitting next to people in their 20s and 30s. There’s a surprising number of young women, swaying with the tunes and posting on social media. When Maglio sings “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” a couple dance near the bar. This is their 20th (or so) show. The man goes by Texas, his wife Mrs. Texas. “My mom came in from Jersey,” says Mrs. Texas. She looks at Maglio. “He’s great.”
When the show ends, Maglio thanks the crowd. He’s mobbed for selfies, for autographs, for chewing the fat with friends old and new. Soon he will head back to the bar for a little more Scotch and water. There’s another show coming up later, just like every Saturday. Here in New York, New York.
