On any given night at Marieâs Crisis, a cozy singalong piano bar in Greenwich Village, the pianist can be reliably counted on to deliver a fistful of standards. Songs made famous by Broadway royalty â" Barbra, Liza, Patti â" come out to play.
But lately, a more unlikely set of ballads has crept into the mix at Marieâs Crisis and countless other piano bars and karaoke lounges. Unlikely, because the inspiration is an apocryphal musical that has nevr been performed on Broadway.
The songs are from âBombshell,â a musical based on Marilyn Monroeâs life, but one that exists only in NBCâs âSmash,â a drama about putting together a musical.
On a recent night, Rebecca Rosen, 24, a waitress from Alphabet City, chose a song from the showâs 12th episode performed by Megan Hilty: âSecond-Hand White Baby Grand.â
When Ms. Rosen sang the lines âfor many years the music had to roam, until we found a way to find a home,â she winked at the pianist, who smiled back. Tender and lilting, her voice filled the small space as fellow patrons contentedly rested their chins in their palms and soaked it in. Nobody else knew the words, but there were murmurs of recognition.
âThey actually bring the sheet music,â Adam Tilford, 32, a piano player at Marieâs Crisis, said of the âSmashâ devotees. âItâs great. The songs really stand out.â
Mr. Tilfordâs favorite regular âBombs! hellâ performer at the bar is Knox Bundy, 46, a network engineer from Herald Square. Fond of âLet Me Be Your Star,â the showâs anthem from its pilot episode and itself a Grammy nominee, Mr. Bundy belts it out in a sonorous baritone.
That particular song has also entered the rotation at âMusical Mondaysâ at Splash, a gay bar in Chelsea; John Bantay, a video jockey at the bar, characterized âLet Me Be Your Starâ as âan âI wantâ song.â
âEveryone loves those,â he said, comparing it to Broadway standards like âDefying Gravity,â from âWickedâ; âMaybe This Time,â from âCabaretâ; and âDonât Rain on My Parade,â from âFunny Girl.â
Mr. Bantay said âSmashâ is ââGleeâ for grown-ups,â in reference to the Fox show about a high school a cappella group. But whereas âGleeâ repackages familiar pop songs with canny cross-promotional wiles, âBombshellââs popularity has grown more organically. There isnât even an official cast album et (although a 22-track âBombshellâ album is due Feb. 12, a week after the showâs sophomore season makes its debut Tuesday night).
âStuff like this just never happens,â exclaimed Anthony Ellis, 33, a Marieâs Crisis regular and Fort Greene lawyer who majored in musical theater in college. âThe last time was probably âMy Best Friendâs Wedding,ââ he said, referring to the 1997 film that starred Julia Roberts. For emphasis, Mr. Ellis then sang a few lines of Dionne Warwickâs âI Say a Little Prayer,â which was featured in the film.
âSmashâ â" and by extension, âBombshellâ â" were created by theater heavyweights: the Tony-winning songwriters Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman (âHairsprayâ), and the Tony-winning director Michael Mayer (âSpring Awakeningâ).
Upon hearing about his songsâ surprise stealth popularity, Mr. Wittman said, âOoh, itâs gay Inception.â
Mr. Wittman and Mr. Shaiman, now married to each other, first met at Marieâ! s Crisis! in the 1970s. They had heard rumors that Tina Fey liked to belt âSmashâ songs at â30 Rockâ cast parties, but Mr. Wittman said that having their songs performed at Marieâs Crisis topped even that.
âI couldnât imagine a better compliment,â Mr. Shaiman said.
William Wesbrooks, the director of vocal performance in New York Universityâs musical theater program, said he hoped the âSmashâ songs would stay precious. He recounted a single morning when he endured five different student renditions of âOn My Own,â a ballad from âLes Misérablesâ that is having its own revival thanks to the new film version.
âWhatâs great about these âSmashâ songs is that theyâre not âWhat I Did for Love,ââ said Mr. Wesbrooks. âIt allows for a new âWhat I Did for Love.ââ
He said what draws singers to such songs is that they arenât specific to any particular characters or plots, âand you can have, as a singer, a full moment, not just a piece of a larger stry.â
On a recent Thursday night, Paul Hagen, 32, a magazine editor from Greenpoint, set his martini on the piano at Monster, a Greenwich Village piano bar, and requested âDonât Forget Me,â the grand finale in âBombshell.â
The pianist, Phil Kadet, seemed practiced at the new tune. Mr. Hagen performed with brio, occasionally employing jazz hands or brushing aside nonexistent feathered tresses. With the last line â" âPlease let me be the starâ â" he held the final note as he raised his arms with the seriousness of âEvitaââs Eva Perón. His hands began to tremble as they rose, as if boiling until, having held the note for 11 seconds, they crashed against his temples. He whispered the word again: âStar!â
The agog audience, having begun applause mid-song, was stunned into silence until a jokester piped up: âDo you know âWhatta Manâ by Salt-n-Pepaâ