I’ve been a diehard fan of Lady Gaga since the beginning of her career. One of my earliest memories of Little Monster-dom is buying last-minute tickets to The Monster Ball in Chicago in 2010. My mom, my sister, and I drove 800 miles from New York in a day to catch the show—once there, we bought blonde and lavender wigs, painted blue lightning bolts over our eyes, and headed to The Rosemont Theatre. I already liked her music, but seeing her live made me a Little Monster for life. Her performance was eclectic, controversial, and edgy, and her live vocals and stage theatrics were addictive to witness.
Since then, I’ve never missed a concert, and Gaga’s music has soundtracked every single phase of my life. When I was an 18-year-old starving artist in LA, I lost my Blackberry at a gay club, TigerHeat, and the next day was the first time I heard her on the radio: ”Where are my keys? I lost my phone, oh, oh, oh, oh.” Was this new pop star singing about me? Two years later, I was finally back in New York City (where I belong) and viscerally remember watching the premiere of the “Marry the Night” music video. Seeing her carry a piano up flights of stairs in an NYC walkup was such a specific and poignant reference to what it means to be an artist in New York. “I’ll hold my whisky up high, kiss the bartender twice, I’m a loser” is still one of my favorite Gaga lyrics–so much so, that at 22 years old, I got a “Marry the Night” tattoo on my bicep.
I also got the itch to swap bartending for travel writing right when ArtPop was released, and “Gypsy” became my anthem; my sister and I harmonized to Joanne’s “Million Reasons” as she got ready for her wedding; and Chromatica got me through a particularly dark period, where songs like “911” and “Replay” became my pandemic soundtrack.
Now, five years later, we have Mayhem—her immaculate seventh album with both chaotic yet organized energy; retro beats, and synthetic pop melodies; lyrics revealing deep levels of anger, betrayal, confusion, learning, and growth. While watching the 67th Annual Grammy Awards, I screamed at the TV like a bro watching a football game when that Mastercard commercial came on. Not only was it new Gaga, but there were flares of old Gaga in the choreography, the style, and the sound. I hate to say Gaga was back because she never left us, but “Abracadabra” made it clear she was making a return to her NYC underground roots.
So, when I then heard there was a listening party at Joanne Trattoria on the night of the album’s official release, I reached out to Joanne’s press team—and was immediately met with: “We sold out in 30 minutes, no can do.” Fair. I moved on with my life and didn’t think twice about it. But two weeks later, I got an email offering me a table for two. I immediately said yes.
My friend and I rented a room at Arlo SoHo for a proper staycation and, while painting our faces with sparkly eyeshadow, debated which songs were best (we collectively agreed “Vanish Into You” and “Don’t Call Tonight” are serious bangers), and which ones we thought she would perform on SNL, conspiring a stripped down version of “Blade of Grass.” (She’d end up performing “Abracadabra” and “Killah.”)
We got to Joanne Trattoria at 6 p.m. sharp for our reservation. The tiny main dining room was at maximum capacity, with 85 fans filling each of the 29 tables and 10 bar seats. As Mayhem played over the loudspeakers, plates of Silician-inspired fare like arancini and family-recipe meatballs were passed around. I eventually wandered back to a private room, where Joe Germanotta, Lady Gaga’s dad, sat at the head of the table. There were a total of three other guests, including Cindy Adams, the famed gossip columnist from the New York Post. Joe kindly offered my friend and me a seat at the table.
Over a “Lady in Red” cocktail, Joe tells me for the past year, the restaurant has hosted all types of entertainment, from acoustic sets to magicians, saying he wants Joanne’s to be a place where people know they can come to see quality local talent. The Mayhem party was hosted by Jupiter Genesis, who books all of the restaurant’s weekly drag events. Tierney Allen, a Gaga impersonator, was there, too, and at one point, performed “Disease” and “Million Reasons.”
We got to talking about the underground music scene in New York, and I asked him where, aside from Joanne Trattoria, the best talent in New York can be found. “The Bitter End,” he said without hesitation, the famed Greenwich Village bar where Lady Gaga got her start as Stefani Germanotta. “I want to be one of those clubs.” He also divulged his top three favorite Gaga songs: “Edge of Glory,” “You and I,” and “the song about the burka”—which we eventually figured out was “Aura.” And his favorite song off Mayhem? “Abracadabra,” he revealed. “It has a ‘Bad Romance’ feel.”
Of course, being the owner, and the restaurant overflowing with hardcore fans, many of whom want photos with him, our conversation was cut short. But, shockingly, he offered me his phone number and we continued the conversation a couple of days later.
“Did you watch Saturday Night Live?” I asked him that following Sunday, unsure if he was actually able to take in his daughter’s impeccable performance. “Oh, I did,” he said. “She was fabulous. I texted her that her acting, her singing, her dance…they were spot on. She’s always been funny like that.” He added that Joanne’s had been packed Saturday night since they had an SNL viewing party and it was the latest they’ve stayed open in years.
And so concluded my Gaga-fueled weekend, where I was granted an in-depth look at an inconspicuous trattoria that’s slowly becoming the stomping grounds for some of NYC’s best hidden talent—conceptualized by the man who watched his daughter find success in the exact same way. “It is the only entertainment like this on the Upper West Side that has the breadth of drag to emerging talent,” he told me.
Once again, more than a decade after my first Little Monster moment, Gaga’s music expanded my world, stamped my memories, and soundtracked an experience I’ll be talking about for decades.
If you want to perform at Joanne Trattoria, you can apply online.
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Still here. Still without airbrushing. Still with teeth.
