a&e features
‘In between the lines’
Longtime out rocker on major change, new music and industry sexism

Melissa Etheridge combined a rootsy yet tech-savvy approach to her first independent album ‘I am M.E.,’ her 13th studio album. (Photos by John Tsiavis)
This is M.E. Tour
With Alexander Cardinale
Tuesday, 8 p.m. (doors 6:30)
$77.25-99.75
Lincoln Theatre
1215 U St., N.W.
On a rare night home in Los Angeles just a week into her fall tour, long-time out rocker Melissa Etheridge caught up with Washington Blade by phone. Her current “This is M.E. Tour,” which kicked off Nov. 2 in Mashantucket, Conn., comes to Washington next week.
Touring behind her Sept. 30 album of the same name, Etheridge, on the eve of a Sunday night performance at the National Radio Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, was candid on a wide spate of topics. Her comments have been slightly edited for length.
WASHINGTON BLADE: The new album feels very textured — more loops, some big, crunchy sounds. Is it hard to discern how far to go with that in the studio?
MELISSA ETHERIDGE: No. I have a rule with all the producers. I tell them right up front, I say, “Look, I’m a live artist, so I need to be able to do whatever they hear on the record live.” Now, not every little huge 10-guitar part or something but my voice, the song, the beat, they have to be able to enjoy that live and I have to be able to do it. Jon Levine (Nelly Furtado, Selena Gomez) was really great at keeping it there and Jerry Wonda (the Fugees, Mary J. Blige, Akon) was so amazing because we created it from the ground up live. … And now he’s performing it with me, so it’s really fun.
BLADE: Are those sounds difficult to replicate on stage?
ETHERIDGE: I told my drummer he can use triggers so it sounds like the record, but he has to hit it. It can’t be a loop because if I want to stop and do anything live, I have to be able to stop. You can do that with stems and take those sounds and put them in the pads so he’s playing live drums but he’s adding the sounds from the pads.
BLADE: I loved the vintage footage in the new video for “Take My Number.” Was that your idea?
ETHERIDGE: That was mine and the director, Dale. When I was making this record, I had just gone through about six months of thinking I was going to put out a box set of old stuff that no one had ever seen or heard, so I went into my attic — actually a storage space like we all have out here in California — and started going through boxes and finding all these old pictures and things. … I wanted to share some of that with my fans and I wanted them to have the feeling I had looking at it of, “Oh my God, it really has been 30 years since I’ve been doing it here in California, wow.” It fit because there’s also a lot of reminiscing in the song.
BLADE: So is the box set on ice for now?
ETHERIDGE: Yes, because right when I was about to finish it I went through this — well it was akin to the emotional and personal change that I went through about 10 years ago, I went through that again last year with my business self so last year I changed management, my record company and everything. … So when I realized I wasn’t going to make any money on the box set, Universal would make it all because they own all the masters, I started thinking, “How can I not make money on the things that I did?” So we put that away for now. Sometime I will present it when I’m not looking at it as a way to make money but just as a thing that I can release to people and share.
BLADE: Sounds like some drastic changes. Were you afraid of burning bridges?
ETHERIDGE: I have worked with some of these people for 25-30 years and I’d had relationships with them my whole career. There are some wonderful, hard-working, amazing people who obviously got me to an amazing place in my life and career and I’m so grateful and thankful for them. But it’s a different industry out there enow. The artist has more control and more power and if you can do it live, if you can bring it, if you can be real and consistently bring it, that’s worth something and you can own your own music and cultivate your social media and career, so I’m very excited about what I’m doing right now.
BLADE: You said in one recent interview that you flatlined after the last album, “4th Street Feeling” (2012). What did you mean?
ETHERIDGE: Well, I had done two or three or four tours in a row where I kind of played to the same number of people. They were wonderful shows and there are people, whether I’m on the radio station or not, there are people who if you put a show for sale in a certain town, those people are going to come see me because they have a great time. Those are my fans that I love and I couldn’t be me without them. But I also think there’s a lot of people out there in the world who, if given the chance, I’d like to think would also enjoy the music and I felt I wasn’t reaching those people. I didn’t want to be comfortable. I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could reach more people and see if I could get more people interested in this crazy thing called rock and roll.
BLADE: It irks the shit out of me in Rolling Stone when they review albums by women rockers and even when it’s a fairly positive review overall, they’ll get in these little digs and say stuff like, “She’s better when she reins in her over-the-top tendencies.” They never say shit like that about Springsteen or Steven Tyler (Aerosmith) or the male rockers. Are you kidding me? Rein it in? It’s fucking rock and roll. They can only stomach women rockers if they keep it safe and “rein it in.” Do you feel it’s sexist?
ETHERIDGE: You know Joey, sometimes I think you are the little devil on my shoulder. You know, like there’s an angel over here and a devil over here because it’s like you know the little funny things in my life that are kind of buttons for me. You have that sense of justice that I have that sometimes gets me in trouble like we did last time (comments Etheridge made in a 2013 Blade interview about Angelina Jolie went viral). But I made an oath to myself a long time ago, like 20 years ago, that I would always answer truthfully what was asked of me. I answered truthfully and I do not regret that at all. It opened up some amazing conversations, not just with me but across the nation, so it’s all good. But yes, back to Rolling Stone. My wife so gently just sort of, you know, pats me on the head and says, “Oh honey, don’t let …” because, yeah, I think those things. Why do they call it histrionic on me yet I’m singing the exact same type of thing Steven Tyler sings and you said it exactly. My rock heroes were people like Robert Plant, and he was up there singing like Janis Joplin who stood up there and sang like a black woman. It’s soul. And I mean “Dude (Looks Like a Lady),” Steven Tyler presents like the male androgyny yet when I showed up on this end of androgyny it was like, “Whoah, wait a minute, there’s something uncomfortable about it” and it’s taken them a long time. But I’m being patient now. I believe that they will all understand that part of themselves and that a stronger older female is not strange. It’s actually a very ancient part of culture that we sort of let go.
BLADE: The coverage of women rockers often feels so grudging. There’s the old boys club like U2, the Stones, Bob Dylan — and I’m certainly not suggesting these acts aren’t deserving — but they fart and Rolling Stone gives them a four- or five-star review. When you or Sheryl Crow or people like that are profiled, they want to talk about your family, your kids, who you’re dating, this whole domestic thing. The male rockers get a little of that but it’s so out of proportion. Does this bother you?
ETHERIDGE: Well, it doesn’t bother me but it is one of the reasons I made the album that I made. There’s a song on it called “All the Way Home” that was banned from being played in Barnes & Noble, right? So Barnes & Noble, bless their hearts, wanted to play the album in their stores but they said they wouldn’t play that song. It’s too lusty, it’s too “I got lightening in my eyes and a fire down below.” I just get all naughty on this album because I think that’s so much of what rock and roll is. Rock and roll comes from that black woman who’s singing naughty songs that we’re not supposed to hear. But we’re under our sheets listening to her sing. That’s rock and roll and it’s easy for me to represent that. That’s why I have the band I have now, it’s a more soulful band. That’s where I was with making this album. Even though it’s more technical, it’s like the roots of rock and roll but with technology, with purpose.
BLADE: So many veteran acts just keeping milking the hits on endless tour and maybe they put out an album six or eight years ago, maybe not. You’ve kept them coming every two years or so. Are you just the kind of songwriter who would go crazy without some outlet? How do you keep that drive when the money is all in touring?
ETHERIDGE: Oh yeah, people have told me it might be better if I went away for awhile. And I went like, “I don’t want to go away. What do you mean go away? This is what I am, this is what I do.” Even my mother a few years ago, she said, “Don’t let people think this comes too easily for you.” I’m like, “Why not? This is what I do, what I love.” I love to write songs about the human experience that I’m having and I love to get on stage and say, “Oh my God, did you feel this? Can you relate to this? Can we exchange this energy?” … It’s just amazing. I love doing it.
BLADE: You often put six or eight cuts from the new album in your show. Do you sense your fans are OK with that as long as you hit the staples like “Come to My Window” and “Bring Me Some Water”?
ETHERIDGE: Right. This tour was sort of a gamble for me but one I really, really believed in because I see my fan base, the ones who come out and yes, of course, they love “Come to My Window,” they love “I’m the Only One,” and thank goodness there’s those six or seven songs that they know I’m going to play. We have a great time and I love those songs, I’m so grateful for those songs. And then the rest is my choice. It might be the kind of tour where I dig a little deeper in my catalogue and pull out deeper album cuts and they’re like, “Oh, she did this song, this night,” that’s great. I love doing that. But every now and then an album comes along — and actually I haven’t really felt this strongly about one since the mid-‘90s — but I feel so strongly about the music that I play so much of the new album because I really do believe the audience will enjoy it. I believe there will be enough people who have listened to the album that they’re going to lose their minds and the other people are gonna want to go home and buy it. I’m rolling the dice on that, but I feel really confident.
BLADE: Covers albums are all the rage this season — Bryan Adams, Bette Midler, Aretha Franklin. What song would you love to cover someday?
ETHERIDGE: My whole childhood like from 13 to 27, I sang other people’s songs all the time. Something crazy rock and roll like “Mississippi Queen” (Mountain) or Springsteen “Darkness on the Edge of Town.”
BLADE: You’re not one of these artists whose stuff has been anthologized to death with these ICON CDs you see at Target and all that. Is Island going to start that now that you’re gone?
ETHERIDGE: It will be something that’s not much in my control, yeah. I haven’t ever pushed for that kind of thing because I love the feeling of being sort of a little bit underground. Even though I’m successful, always being a bit on the outside. The box gets full and falls over and I’m still there outside the box so then I’m on the beginning of the next thing. I stay in between the lines and I like it there. I love it.

Melissa Etheridge says singing live is ‘just amazing. I love doing it.’ (Photo by John Tsiavis)
a&e features
The queer Asian comics building collective joy in D.C.
Spotlighting chaotic ways family, romance, identity take shape in their lives
Kevin Chen’s family tombstone has room for four: him, his parents and his boyfriend. The arrangement might prove to be a little awkward.
“My boyfriend is 100% white, and my parents are 100% disappointed,” Chen confessed.
Jokes about family traditions and the untraditional ways they’re practiced earned a burst of laughs at the bar where Chen was opening for the Pride Comedy Special. The D.C. stand-up event, produced by Comedy Bonfyre last month, spotlighted queer Asian comics who shared the chaotic ways family, romance and identity take shape in their lives.
From candid oral sex takes to top surgery hypotheticals like “Where do the boobs go?”, the night highlighted the loud camaraderie of the queer Asian experience — one that sounds like a cacophony of snorts, cackles and belly laughs. While the comics say they are not quite a community, there’s more than enough shared material to bring them together.
“It was such a magical experience. I loved performing in a queer API lineup. It feels so validating,” Chen said after the show. “I’m wondering, ‘Is this how white men feel all the time?’”
Each performance evoked queer Asian joy through a medium that could use more of its presence.
According to Chen, who is based in D.C., it’s hard to say whether there is a true queer Asian comedy presence in his city. There are only a scattered “handful” of Asian comics, and people of color are underrepresented in queer comic circles, he said.
When Tarunika Anand, a nonbinary lesbian comic, first entered the mainstream D.C. comedy scene, they mostly encountered straight white men, describing the experience as “a culture shock.”
“I feel like sometimes a lot of queer spaces are really white, and then a lot of Asian spaces are really straight,” Anand said. “I don’t feel like I fit into either.”
But feeling marginalized didn’t stop these comics from honing their craft and creating spaces for others like them. Alex Kim, who headlined the special and is based in Brooklyn, runs the queer Asian comedy group Boba Gays, which began on WhatsApp and has since made its way to Lincoln Center.
Every Wednesday, Anand co-produces a free comedy show called Funny Side Up. The queer-led group focuses on inclusivity and showcasing new talent.
“It’s really beautiful to speak about your experience and your existence in a way that’s uplifting,” Anand said.
Family is a major throughline of their comedic repertoires.
Chen, for instance, shared that he identifies with jokes about having Asian immigrant parents and the expectations they pass down.
“You see me, you know this part about me, you know this experience intimately, and I can see the truth that you’re trying to wrap a joke around,” he said. “That hits even harder because that’s my truth too. I think that’s what makes good comedy.”
Anand had the audience at the special howling when they explained that their parents’ be-more-like-them comparisons didn’t end when they came out. Instead, the expectations took on a new form.
“Now, my parents want me to be the best gay,” Anand said. “They’re like, ‘Do you know Ellen DeGeneres?’”
Kim said he’s been trying to unlearn things from his Christian Korean mom. Yet he described a moment when he was getting ready for the club and realized he looked just like his mother getting ready for church.
“I’ve been finding it hard to escape her,” Kim said.
Mutual recognition also radiates through the different ways queer love can take shape. From singlehood to death-do-us-part commitments, the comics cover just about every corner.
Anand is holding out hope for settling down with “a nice, pretty, Indian girl.” They recently went through a breakup and said they felt they dodged a bullet.
“As a person of color, I just don’t think I should be with a Swiftie,” they said.
Chen, touching on what it’s like to be in a queer interracial relationship, said that meeting his white boyfriend’s baby nephew for the first time felt like he was forced to participate in a diversity, equity and inclusion training.
“The dad was like, ‘Please welcome Kevin. Be curious about his culture, his history, his foods,’” Chen joked.
Laughter is not the only reward for the comics.
To Anand, comedy is a space where they can say whatever they want. “It gives me a voice,” they said.
Nik Narain, a North Carolina-based trans and nonbinary South Asian comic who performed at the special, said meeting older trans comedians and taking the stage helped him feel reassured in his identity during his transition.
“Stand-up was a really cool way to process that onstage,” he said. “[It] became a way for me to repackage my thoughts.”
Queer Asians are still figuring out their place in the greater D.C. comedy scene. The group is small in numbers and many are still working toward a full-time comedy career. But Narain feels he’s already made it.
Narain is reluctant to pin it all on one moment. He feels that success is already peeking through in milestones — opening for celebrities, traveling to performances and self-producing shows.
“As long as I can keep doing this, I’m super happy,” he said.
This story was produced as part of the AAJA VOICES fellowship program, a student journalism project of the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA).
a&e features
Mr. Henry’s celebrates 60 years of proud inclusivity
Capitol Hill staple remains ‘a caring community’
America’s 250th isn’t the only milestone birthday D.C. is celebrating this year.
Beloved D.C. restaurant Mr. Henry’s, that Capitol Hill staple, celebrates its Diamond Jubilee all year long. Named for its original owner Henry Yaffe, the restaurant opened on a warm day 60 years ago in the summer of 1966 and has never looked back.
Yaffe took over what was then a country western restaurant, renovated the interior to his liking, and created an institution. Yet Yaffe had another goal. As a gay man, “he created Mr. Henry’s to be a place where everyone felt welcome — not easy in 1966 — and he succeeded,” says current owner Mary Quillian.

“Mr. Henry’s has long been a place the LGBTQ community has supported because they felt and still feel welcomed,” says Quillian. Even in the current administration, “the gay community and the diversity-minded community continue to come.”
Since then, Mr. Henry’s has changed hands, opened and closed its second floor, welcomed famed musical acts, and played host to politicians, date nights, breakups, and birthdays. But it still feels like home (and has a note in the National Trust for Historic Preservation) at 601 Pennsylvania Ave., S.E.
Its wood-paneled, Victorian-inspired art-filled décor in the downstairs dining room and bar serves American pub fare for lunch and dinner daily, with brunch on weekends (and a dog-friendly patio). Upstairs, Mr. Henry’s hosts live jazz performances and special events most nights, continuing a musical tradition that has defined the venue for decades. That upstairs bar has played host to names like Roberta Flack and Woody Allen.
Musician Kevin Cordt said that, “Mr. Henry’s has been a part of my life for more than 30 years. I started as a customer, then became a bartender and server, and now I have the good fortune to play trumpet at one of the best live music venues in Washington, D.C.”
Aaron Myers, executive director of the D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities, is also a supporter. “Not many cities can sport venues that have consistently served the community in the space of culture for more than 50 years, let alone can brag as the birthplace of culture defining talent.”
From the start, Yaffe promoted a rare yet celebrated combination of locals’ bar and soulful nightlife venue. Mr. Henry’s has attracted a diverse crowd at a time when such spaces were – and perhaps still are – uncommon, a diversity that is credited with helping protect the pub during the 1968 D.C. riots.
Longtime customer Evelyn Branic said, “Mr. Henry’s has been my ‘Cheers’ hangout since my wife and I moved to the Hill in 1987. I’ve experienced many iconic moments meeting politicians, reporters, civic activists, and neighbors engaging in spirited conversations. Whether political, LGBTQ, historians, neighbors, or out-of-towners, everyone could find a special place to be greeted as a friend.”
Its welcoming tables come dabbed with a bit of tea: In 1971, in a moment that has since become part of Capitol Hill lore, Yaffe lost the pub in a poker game to Larry Quillian. The Quillian family, recognizing the special role Mr. Henry’s played in the neighborhood, took over ownership, and committed to preserving its spirit. Today, Larry’s daughter Mary owns the bar, having given it a bit of a facelift for the bar’s 50th birthday, bringing in new tables and some fresh menu items.
For example, the menu has some of those dishes that regulars would riot if they disappeared. The Reuben and the hamburgers, the chili and in-house roasted turkey have never departed the menu. Dishes do evolve, says Quillen: they added wings about two decades ago.
In 2026, the restaurant is hosting monthly ticketed “decades” parties, celebrating each of the 10-year periods the restaurant’s been open, plus there were specials in June for Pride. The official 60th anniversary gala takes place Aug. 29, featuring performers, beverages, timeless favorite foods, swag – and the unveiling of a new cocktail.
Inclusive, eccentric, eclectic, Mr. Henry’s is looking forward to maintaining its centrality to diverse crowds in Capitol Hill. Battling inflation, rising menu prices, changing tastes, and thin margins, Quillian says that Mr. Henry’s has — and will always be — “a caring community for so many different folks. And THAT is why I am committed to keeping us going. Society needs places like Mr. Henry’s, now more than ever.”
a&e features
Television loses a legend, longtime ‘Will & Grace’ director James Burrows
Iconic hitmaker leaves behind a legacy of telling LGBTQ stories
You don’t have to be a pretentious film major to name 10 movie directors. But naming television directors is not that simple. They’re the unsung heroes of your favorite shows, and the late James Burrows was the television director. He passed on June 19, but his DNA runs through television history.
He directed over 1200 episodes of television and over 50 pilots. He co-created “Cheers” and directed many episodes of long-running series like “Friends,” “Taxi,” “Frasier,” “The Big Bang Theory,” and “Two and a Half Men.” You also may remember him from playing a heightened version of himself on the Lisa Kudrow comedy “The Comeback.”
He has left an indelible mark on the LGBTQ community. As recently as last year, he directed the series run of “Mid-Century Modern” starring Nathan Lane, Matt Bomer, and Linda Lavin. He was also a longtime director of “Will & Grace” and directed every episode of the series revival. He even directed the unaired “Absolutely Fabulous” pilot with Kathryn Hahn, Kristen Johnston, and Zosia Mamet.
Not to mention he’s worked with queer icons throughout history, including Betty White and Stockard Channing on their single-season series, and Jennifer Coolidge in “2 Broke Girls.”
He started his career on shows like “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” “Rhoda,” “Laverne & Shirley,” and the first four seasons of “Taxi.”
He continued to work steadily and directed successful pilots that went to series for “Roc,” “3rd Rock From the Sun,” “Dharma & Greg,” and “Wings.” He directed multiple episodes of “Friends,” “Caroline in the City,” and “Frasier.”
This magic continued into the 2000s with him directing the pilots for “Two and a Half Men,” “The Big Bang Theory,” and multiple episodes of “Mike & Molly,” and the entire return series of “Will & Grace.”
What was the secret to his success? He’d enact the “fun clause” in his contract. In his words, “Life is too short to deal with obnoxious leads,” he shared. “So as long as the writing is good and the cast is fun, I’m going to enjoy the experience.”
He had the magic touch, having multiple pilots turned into long-running series. He was nominated for an Emmy 24 times in 26 years and worked consistently until a year before his death.
The secret was the way he brought the cast together. He describes, “it was my job to mold them into an ensemble, and they did round into a group of people who loved each other.”
This earned him 11 Emmy Awards and five Directors Guild of America Awards, including being awarded the inaugural DGA’s Lifetime Achievement Award for Television Direction.
In a 2003 interview by the Television Academy, he was asked how he wants to be remembered, and he said, “That every night forever you can tune in somewhere, and there’ll be a show I did.”
He’s survived by his wife, Debbie, four daughters, seven grandchildren, and the countless people whose careers he launched and the countless viewers he inspired with his television legacy.
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