I first discovered Good Judy on a Friday night in February 2022 when, starved for nightlife, I went out by myself to Barbés in Park Slope for some live music. A small crew I danced with there said they were going to another spot nearby. I tagged along. We walked down 5th Ave to a packed place that I could tell, by its clear lit-up stairs, used to be Excelsior. Now it was Good Judy, and it was very good.

I came again by myself on a quiet Tuesday night and stopped right in front of the door when I saw the flier: “Piano Bar Wednesdays!” My heart peed a little, and I thought, I have to come back on a Wednesday. I walked in and did a lap through the space, then went upstairs. The altitude shift up those steps brought the sounds of piano, voices loud and soft, singing, talking, laughing, glasses, movement. I entered shyly, observing the room. I sensed something special happening and I burritoed myself in the vibe. The first song I sang at Ben Easton’s Tuesday night piano karaoke was Kate Bush “Hounds of Love.” It felt right.

I went back the next day for Nina Zeitlin’s Wednesday night piano bar. And the next next day for Leslie Goshko’s Thursday night “Bitch, You Better Sing!” And that’s how I kicked off this new chapter of my life, in a place I would frequent, and sing in, and give my all to. Where for a year+ I would make good friends, and find myself over and over, have deep talks about life, love, carabiners, anything. This was my place. Is my place. It keeps growing and evolving. Some nights karaoke becomes the prelude to an unforgettable friend hang in the backyard. The last couple weeks I’ve also fallen in love with Elijah Caldwell’s new Sunday nights on the piano. It’s all so good for my soul. I tell everyone how much I love this place and why.

On any Good Judy karaoke night, you’ll find a mix of regulars and newbies, spotlighters and supporters, and people who defy all expectations (hello radiant array of queers). There’s a natural ease in the room and a shared activity that makes it easy to talk to people. (“Are you going to sing?”). You can hear people building each other up, joking across the room, being brave, being irreverent. Whether you own the stage, sing along, hurl a yaaasss, listen, dance, or watch, you’re part of the experience. And for me the experience is enormously beautiful and meaningful.

I come to karaoke to ignite myself in song and let it tornado out my mouth. I sing way louder than I do in the walls of my apartment, and in some moments I sing directly to the hearts of people in the room. The more I trust the vibe, the more I can let myself go and discover something new inside me. When I step off the stage I need a few minutes to let the feeling settle. But right away I get smiles and hugs and nice words. It sinks in that I did this together with people, not in a vacuum. And people were really here for it, here for me in whatever I gave for three and a half minutes. I’m always ready to be myself and be hated for it, but to be fully myself and be cherished is almost too cute.

Singing, for me, is a main attraction but it’s not the only point. Karaoke is an up close opportunity to witness. What I see in people singing is the big spirit and small intricacies of who they are. Their hot confidence and their hot shyness, their moments of messing up and smiling, the way they move when they get into it, and how they make the song their own. You get trembling emotion in “Landslide,” preteen sleepover in “Wannabe,” and everyone’s aspiration toward fully expressed anger in “You Oughta Know.”

The way people in the room melt together is almost impossibly good. The woooo’s, the jokes, and the sing-alongs all set us up to connect. In a place where we feel safe, comfortable, entertainted, and seen – community and besties are a natural development. There are many queer spaces for all kinds of purposes; this is my favorite one for making friends. It’s just so fucking fun and real.

So what exactly makes Good Judy’s karaoke a perfect place for warm and intimate queer community? Here are my Top 10 theories:

#10
The Room

The cozy upstairs Blue Room is set aside from the main bar, so people are there because they want to be and they're into it. 

#9
The Weeknights

Most of the karaoke is on weeknights, which draws out devoted singers, easygoing vibes, and a family crowd of regulars. 

#8
The Talent

Queers include a lot of expressive, free, and ex-theater kids who’ll really get into it, sing a hole through the roof, harmonize, dance, and ham it up.

#7
The Piano

It’s giving personal, human feel, rather than a digital karaoke track, and if you get lost the music can meet you where you are.

#6
The Flavors

Five different nights, each with their own vibe, crowd, and playlist means you can find one (or more) that you’ll love.

#5
Karaoke Safe Space™

Anyone can karaoke, and often shy singers will get full support, encouragement, and singing along from the crowd. 

#4
It’s not just showtunes and oldies

It’s pop, rock, 90s, ABBA, Gaga, Cher, Miley, Dolly, Elton, Robyn, Amy, Whitney, Britney, Beyoncé, Celine, Donna, Rihanna, Fiona, Madonna, Mariah, Xtina, Taylor, Bowie, Bruce, Tina, Lauryn, Alanis, Adele, Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Little Mermaid, Grease, Garden State, and more.

#3
The Bartenders

Friendly, gorgeous, talented, elegant, and sleeveless, the people working the bar will welcome you, have genuine conversations, share hilarious true stories, and set the tone for being yourself and seeing one another. 

#2
The Pianists

Leslie, Ben, Elijah, Nina! They host, play, sing, count you in, and bring the crowd in to support you. They have a vision for their nights and they create a full experience, each in their own irreplaceable style. You see it in Nina supplying kazoos and making hilarious toasts throughout the night. Ben building a songlist with nearly anything you want to sing. Elijah performing a song from the radical Broadway play, A Strange Loop. Leslie giving wicked banter and coming up with new themes every week. They put so much human into it.

#1
The People Who Come

You can set the table, but who’s gonna eat? Ultimately what makes this a community is the people who come and keep coming. If you’re waiting for your invitation, here it is.

Hani’s words <3

“At the beginning of the pandemic I had come to realize that I didn't miss gay bars at all and that those spaces seldom ever made me feel good about myself. Pre-COVID I had been a regular at a very popular establishment in the East Village, but the sudden absence of that space only seemed to highlight those qualities of it that I found draining: the pervasive sense of competition, the constant push/pull of invisibility, a kind of moody desperation about the place, and all the pernicious ways those qualities seemed to feed off of one another. But when I happened onto Good Judy summer of 2021, it offered me an alternative to the reflexively exclusionary and exclusively cis white male (NB: I am very cis, and to some probably very masc, but I am also non-white, over 40 and, if I'm being honest with myself, not very relatable to a lot of people I meet in these settings.)

The people behind the bar play a big, big part in fostering a vibe that makes you feel welcome, appreciated, and hot. But so do all the assorted other folks who create meaning for themselves within the space. There's something very anti-scene about Good Judy, something that sets itself against being sized up and dismissed. We all can bring, and reflect back, our fullest selves here. And through Good Judy I've learned that my fullest self just happens to involve belting a lot of Yacht Rock and Sad ABBA to a room full of strangers. Plus Leslie is the rare entertainer who knows how to draw out the performer in you and really bring you into the performance with her. Bitch ain't just a night, it's a whole lifestyle!

And that's just one part of it: do you want something rather more like Marie's Crisis, but with better drinks and funnier talent, check out Nina on Wednesdays. Do you know, like, every song from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend? Well, Ben's got you covered on Tuesdays. There's a vibe for anyone who needs one and it's really something you can't find anywhere else in the city. I'll talk it up to just about anybody I can tell it to, but most of all I love that it's something we can each make our own.”

– Hani Omar Khalil