Lou Capozzoli, 86, of Southwest Philly, a dive bar owner and band front man with a penchant for telling jokes, died Sunday, Feb. 1, after battling a brief illness at Mercy Fitzgerald Hospital while surrounded by family.
Mr. Capozzoli, born April, 4, 1939, was just one year younger than the bar he would eventually take over at the intersection of East Passyunk Avenue and Federal Street, then called Ray’s after the nickname bestowed on his father, Anthony.
Almost immediately, the bar became the center of Mr. Capozzoli’s life. He grew up in the apartment upstairs and as a toddler would sit quietly on the bar downstairs, eating cornflakes, while his mom poured beers. His dad, meanwhile, would wish every customer a happy birthday, even if it wasn’t theirs to celebrate.
It was a gesture that stuck with Mr. Capozzoli, who would go on to spend the rest of his life doing whatever he could to earn smiles from strangers, whether it meant serving birthday shots of cake-flavored vodka with a candle or performing to crowds as a singer and saxophonist across Las Vegas, the Jersey Shore, and South Philly.
“That’s all he wanted, for his father to be proud of him,” said Rose Capozzoli,Mr. Capozzoli’s wife.
And he would be, Rose is certain. Mr. Capozzoli took over the bar when his father died in 1997, rechristening it Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar in honor of his dad’s slogan. Under his stewardship, Ray’s would go on to become the gold standard of Philly dive bars, known for $4 citywides, Friday night karaoke, staying open on Christmas, and an unwavering adherence to theme. Mr. Capozzoli would call regulars on their birthdays to wish them well and maintained a calendar of seemingly all the birthdays in the world to help his staff keep tally on the outdoor chalkboard.
As a boss, Mr. Capozzoli was “pretty silly,” said bartender T.C. Cole, who also played guitar in Mr. Capozzoli’s band. “He would call you at 1:45 in the morning when you’re trying to close just to tell you a joke.”
If jokes were a currency, Mr. Capozzoli was a billionaire, friends and family said. He’d fire them off incessantly — during closing shifts, band performances, family dinners — and had enough discretion to whisper the most risqué in your ear. Mr. Capozzoli’s style was modeled after that of Buddy Hackett and Rodney Dangerfield, his favorite comedians, but the punch lines didn’t matter as much his delivery.
Mr. Capozzoli “would laugh with the person he was telling the joke to,” his son Anthony Capozzoli, 55, said. “If you weren’t laughing with the punch line, you were laughing at how much he enjoyed getting to it.”
More recently, Anthony said, his father would call him just to workshop material, most of which isn’t fit to print. Mr. Capozzoli’s favorite jokes were set to music in 2023 for a five minute-long comedy track as part of a studio EP for the Rage Band, the seven-piece group that Mr. Cappozoli sang with for 41 years alongside a rotating cast of characters.
Low Cut Connie front man Adam Weiner recorded the EP. He and Mr. Capozzoli grew close after Weiner played a gig at Ray’s in 2012, bonding over their shared love of captivating a crowd.
“Not everyone is about joy when they perform … People care about their ego, people care about fashion,” Weiner said. “But Lou was always about fun, just radiating 100% joy.”
Mr. Capozzoli started performing professionally when he was 14, sneaking into clubs to accompany bands on the alto sax. The stage was a calling that helped him fall in love. It also took him to the edge of celebrity.
After serving in the military in the early 1960s and playing for Sophia Loren as part of an army band, Mr. Capozzoli told jokes and sang standards at the Stardust and Flamingo casinos in Las Vegas. At the peak of his fame, he opened for Diana Ross at the Riptide Club in Wildwood in 1965. That same year Mr. Capozzoli met his wife, Rose, who was charmed by his talents at another Wildwood concert. They wed three years later.
Mr. Capozzoli’s steadiest gig began in 1984 with the Rage Band, once the house act for Sea Isle City’s now-shuttered Springfield Inn. There, Mr. Capozzoli settled into his larger-than-life style, commanding a crowd of roughly 1,000 people a night on summer weekends. He’d serenade Burt and Ernie puppets for a medley of Sesame Street songs and show tunes, or don outlandish masks for a Mummers tribute. Both brought down the house, but never as much as when Mr. Capozzoli would cover “Those Were The Days” or ”Sweet Caroline,” which were always punctuated with jokes.
“I call him the showman’s showman,” said Brian Saunders, one of band’s saxophonists. Tony DiMattia, a bassist for the band, concurred: “He didn’t just entertain the crowd. He entertained us as musicians.”
The Rage Band stopped their Sea Isle residency in 1999, only to pick up at new one at Ray’s in 2003, where they have performed on the first Saturday of every month from October through April ever since. The band never rehearsed, DiMattia said. Mr. Capozzoli’s stage presence could smooth over just about any kink.
“There is no Rage Band without Lou,” Saunders said. “He was the glue that kept us together.”
Outside of music, Mr. Capozzoli’s greatest loves were his wife and children. He was a dedicated father who enjoyed cooking large French toast breakfasts, organizing tee ball games, and ensuring the family always had a rescue dog to snuggle. Laughter — and his wife’s minding — kept Mr. Capozzoli going, even as the decades of working in a smoking bar wore on him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lou angry,” said Saunders. “I don’t think he’d ever not had a smile on his face.”
In addition to his wife, Rose, and son, Anthony, Mr. Capozzoli is survived by his daughters, Dyan Wixted and Luann Capozzoli, and three grandchildren: Louis, Daniel, and Delaney.
Visitation with the family will be held from 6 to 9 p.m. Feb. 6, and from 9:30 to 11 a.m. Feb. 7 at Pennsylvania Burial Company, 1327-31 S. Broad St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19147. Services will follow Saturday at 11 a.m.
Donations in Mr. Capozzoli’s name may be made to an animal shelter of your choosing or ACCT-Philly, c/o Development, 111 W. Hunting Park Ave, Philadelphia, Pa., 19140. Alternatively, his wife said, stories about Mr. Capozzoli or jokes he would’ve enjoyed can be sent to the family via email at rayshappybirthdaybar1@gmail.com.
