"Awwright, next up we have . . . Doc! Doc, where are you?"

Brian Dombach, master of ceremonies in jeans and a purple sweatshirt, grinned and looked out at the black-and-white checkerboard floor at the Saloon, 101 Heister St.

A table across the bar erupted into rythmic grunts: "Doc! Doc! Doc!"

As a bouncy pre-recorded background music track swelled up behind him, Mark "Doc" Tomci (graduate-speech communications) ambled up to the microphone and imploded into a song with a creaky Edith Bunker falsetto: "Ah weeooheeaaheea om om o weh!"

That was "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," done Karaoke-style. Karaoke, in which audience members perform songs over pre-recorded accompaniment, is all the rage in its native Japan, and has only recently crossed the Pacific Ocean to the United States.

Some Karaoke systems use only tapes. Others, like Dombach's, flash the lyrics on TV screens along with videos. While some Karaoke operators in large cities charge as much as $5 a pop to sing, Karaoke at the Saloon is free. Patrons can buy tapes of their own performances for $2.

Disc jockeys disagree whether Karaoke (pronounced curr-okie) will catch on in the U.S. as it has in its homeland. Dombach, who has hosted Karaoke on Sundays at the Saloon since last fall, said he thinks Karaoke will strike a chord among America's many sing-in-the-shower Sinatras.

"I think everybody's a performer deep inside; everybody wants to have fun, to be a ham," said Dombach, who sank $10,000 into a Pioneer Laser Karaoke system last September. As another audience member took the stage to sing Sunday night, Dombach took a break and counted on his fingers TV shows that have featured Karaoke.

"It's been on Cheers, it's been on the Simpsons, I think it's really starting to pick up here," he said. Dombach will set up his Karaoke system early Saturday morning for the dancers at the Interfraternity Council/Panhellenic Dance Marathon.

About five years ago, TV news shows first aired footage of well-dressed Tokyo businessmen, microphones in hand, standing up in bars to take turns singing "New York, New York."

"Over in Japan, it's become a tradition, sort of like going to the Phyrst and singing along with Ernie and the Phyrst Phamly," State College disc jockey Larry Moore said in an interview Wednesday. "If a businessman goes to a bar in Japan and doesn't sing, it's considered uncool."

Moore's company, DJ Larry Moore Productions, owns a Karaoke machine it hires out for private parties. Last year, Moore tried to promote Karaoke at the Gingerbread Man, 130 Heister St. He said, however, that Karaoke probably has a better chance of catching on in the United States with an over-30, country/western audience.

"The main difference is that in Japan, Karaoke was marketed as a rich man's toy," Moore said. "Here, it's been marketed as bar entertainment."

Dombach, citing successes at his weekly Saloon gigs and at a recent fraternity party, said Karaoke seems to be catching on among students here.

The Saloon's first Karaoke night was "totally dead," manager Darla Sasserman said. People sat around and stared at each other and didn't dare go up to the mike. Sasserman said she had her barkeepers, bouncers and waitresses go up and sing. In desperation, she even put on a dollar Kamikaze special.

Finally, one person went up, she said. More followed.

Mark Tompkins (senior-English) and Rob Dimeo (senior-physics) were among the first few to take the stage that first night. Last Sunday, Tompkins and Dimeo emulated Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson, respectively, in a suave testosterone version of "To All the Girls I've Loved Before."

"Even if you sound bad, people still love you. Hey, if you pick a song that everyone knows, they'll all sing along and they won't even hear you," said Tompkins who later led the entire bar in singing "The Star Spangled Banner" and "America the Beautiful."

Dombach's Karaoke system offers 700 songs. The hits try to be current enough --there's at least one New Kids on the Block tune, and some Milli Vanilli ('cept that you can't lip synch to Karaoke).

There's a good chunk of the Elvis and Beatles catalogues, plus a hefty helping of country, such as"All My Ex's Live in Texas"; Dombach's list also features oldies like "You've Lost That Loving Feeling," real oldies like "Mack the Knife," attic items such as Donny Osmond's "Puppy Love," and obscure tracks like Kate Bush's "Babooshka."

Doc, who also has been going to Karaoke at the Saloon since the first night, said he has sung over 100 songs and wants to perform all 700 before he completes his degree. Though a mild-mannered individual, Doc grew bolder with each song and each beer Sunday night, doing "Knocking on Heaven's Door" as if he were Axl Rose himself.

"I mean, where else can you make a fool of yourself and not even care?" he said, afterwards, his smile wider than the Beaver Stadium addition. "If people make fun of you, then what the fuck? They don't have the balls to do it themselves."

"I've been doing it ever since it started. The first time I came out I was with these two girls, and they were totally drunk. I was stone -- I was stone cold sober. They wanted to go up and sing, and I went up with them," Doc said. "It's addicting."