a&e features
Ain’t life Grand
‘All American Boy’ on funneling fame into something sustainable

Singer Steve Grand says he is not driven by financial payoff when making music. (Photo by Christopher Free)
Steve Grand says it’s become trendy for gay celebs to come out in an “oh-by-the-way”-type manner. The 25-year-old singer/songwriter says that was never his style.
“People say this is no big deal anymore, who cares,” he says. “You know who cares? The kids who are still really struggling with this. The kids who feel like they would still rather be dead than live life as a gay person. I’m thinking about them all the time when I’m doing these things because deep down, we all just want to be loved. … We want to feel valued and understood.”
In 2013, the Chicago native took $7,000 of his own money to make a music video for his song “All-American Boy.” The now-famous clip — nearly 4 million YouTube hits logged — found him jamming roots-rock style (many called it country) and pining for a straight friend. Now having raised $325,000 from 5,000 fans through a Kickstarter campaign, Grand is releasing a 13-track album of the same name. The Aaron-Johnson-produced project is slated for a March 24 release. We caught up with Grand from his Chicago home by phone. His comments have been slightly edited for length.
WASHINGTON BLADE: Nobody sets out to be a one-hit wonder. You seem like you’re on a logical path to spinning the attention from the video into a sustainable career. How easy or hard has that been so far?
STEVE GRAND: I think I did a good job of keeping my feet on the ground. I went through the whole viral Internet star thing and that was big for a short time. I fumbled a bit in interviews and was trying to figure out if I was going to do shows right away, work on an album. There really was no plan and looking back it seems almost like a hindrance that the video and song came together so beautifully because I don’t think people realized it was really just me doing all that. People suddenly had all these really high expectations right away and I didn’t have a team, no manager, label, it was just something I did all myself with my own money made from playing bars on weekends. … It gave me a good jumpstart and exposed my music to a lot of people right off the bat and connected with a lot of people. I have to be grateful for that but it has a dark side too, for sure.
BLADE: Obviously the video wasn’t just something you did off the cuff. How calculated was it?
GRAND: I really wanted to start a grassroots kind of thing and I thought if I put it out there and people responded, that would be a good start to establishing myself as an artist so I just started asking around, finding people who did videos and eventually I met up with (director) Jason Knade. … I think I really stretched everyone and got a lot for my money. I was very passionate about it and I really cared about getting that song and video out to the world … but no, it wasn’t calculated in terms of anything after. I’ve said this a few times and it doesn’t seem to really stick, but I really did just upload it to YouTube and put it on Facebook and then the Internet did its thing. I wasn’t even sure who to reach out to. I remember thinking, “Oh, maybe I should e-mail Davy Wavey or something,” but it just did its own thing. Buzzfeed got it the next day and said I was the first openly gay country singer and I was like, “What?” I never really stood by that title but I was glad people were seeing it.
BLADE: When was it filmed and how long did it take?
GRAND: We filmed it in June of 2013 and shot it over three days. It was really hard trying to find a yard that we could bring all my friends as extras and have a place that looked like open roads and a campfire and light off fireworks and not get in trouble. I had so much trouble getting a place. No one wants to lend their place to a bunch of 23 year olds with cameras, fireworks and alcohol, but we did end up finding a place in Wisconsin through a friend of a friend. I invited like 200 people knowing maybe 30 would show up and I was right. We shot two days back to back, then a week later shot the stuff in a friend’s yard where it looks like the morning after with the fire and the garbage. Then we edited it right away.
BLADE: I guess people were skeptical because it looked so professionally done. So many essentially homemade videos end up looking so cheesy. How did you avoid that?
GRAND: Well, I insisted on looking at all the footage we shot even though nobody wants to do that because it’s so crazy, but I insisted. I was like, “Give me the footage.” I wanted to be sure we had absolutely the best shot of everything so I spent hours and hours going through it. I also really needed it to be up by the Fourth of July, that was my plan, me being calculating I guess. I thought that was the best time to release it so we had a very limited amount of time. The editor had his first edit, then we spent eight hours going over everything making tweaks. … I really just knew exactly how I wanted it to look and I knew the feeling I wanted people to have and how to achieve that. I was very inspired and very determined and also lucky to have some very talented people to help. … I drove myself nuts, though. My parents were starting to get really worried. They were like, “It’s a little scary how you’re so intense about this.” I wasn’t sleeping or eating, which honestly is why I look so ripped in the video. It was really going over every last detail right up until the last minute.
BLADE: When hip-hop made its mark on pop, country started sounding a lot like where pop/rock was in the ‘90s. Do you think that’s why you got the country sticker?
GRAND: Yeah, live drums, acoustic guitar now, people think country. And also the storytelling style and a lot of the visuals with American flags, old cars, friends by the fire, whisky — those are very country images I guess. I just think of them as Americana. I’ve never gotten too hung up on what it’s called. … If it sounds country to you, that’s fine. … I’m just all about making the song really shine and bringing out the beautiful raw elements of the song.
BLADE: There’s a lot of industry hand wringing about whether albums are obsolete. Why was it important to you to make one?
GRAND: It was something I always wanted to do. After “All American Boy” came out people were like, “You made it, you made it.” I’m like, “I haven’t done anything yet.” Until I have an album out and have played all over the country and the world, then I’ll feel I’ve done what I’ve wanted to do since I was 12. Right after “All American Boy,” all these offers came in, all this stupid shit like reality TV and you know, people saying you have to decide today what you want your career to be like. … My thinking all along was if I’m a good songwriter and a good performer and I think there’s an audience out there for me, if that is all true, then there should still be something left when this moment fades away.
BLADE: Will you tour?
GRAND: Yeah, later in the spring. We’re doing this thing in Europe for two weeks in June and the rest is being put together now.
BLADE: How did you feel watching Sam Smith at the Grammys?
GRAND: It was amazing and a testament to where we are today, which is a beautiful thing. I thought about what it would have meant to me as a young person to have seen something like that — Sam Smith just owning the Grammys, that was amazing. He’s obviously just so, so good and the industry has really embraced him. People everywhere just seem to really like him.
BLADE: What album did you wear out when you were 12-13-14?
GRAND: Fall Out Boy, “Take This to Your Grave.” I listened to that like crazy. That’s when that whole pop-funk-emo thing was happening.
BLADE: You played a lot in clubs and churches. What did you learn?
GRAND: How to be in front of people and give them an experience even when I wasn’t feeling it. You learn to perform and be on whether you’re having a bad day, hung over, sometimes sick, whatever. I learned it was my job to still play and make people happy.
BLADE: There’s no money in having a huge YouTube hit and not that I sense you’re doing all this for the money but surely in time you want to be able to sustain yourself doing this. You put a lot of money into the video. Was it worth it?
GRAND: Anytime somebody thinks I’m doing this for the money, I just laugh forever. I actually moved out of my apartment and back into my parents’ basement because I wanted to keep investing in myself and not throwing hundreds of dollars away for an apartment I was barely at anyway because I was spending so much time traveling to L.A. and recording. People have all sorts of priorities and so far, mine has been putting out something beautiful in the world, something people will connect to and giving people an experience. … I don’t care about living a glamorous life.

Steve Grand says he knew his ‘All American Boy’ video would be successful. (Photo by Joem Bayawa)
BLADE: You’ve done a lot of scantily clad photo shoots. Do all the underwear shots risk undermining a serious career?
GRAND: Those were all done when I was 19, so like six years ago. I didn’t do drugs or anything. My way of rebelling was taking off my clothes. I don’t own them and don’t choose my Google search so there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not ashamed of them and I don’t feel like they’re any big deal … but most of the time now I don’t care how I look. Sometimes I’ll do a show now and people say, “Take off your shirt.” The only time I did that was for the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge in Lake Superior. But now, I don’t really care about showing off my body.
BLADE: Whatever ingredients are needed to launch a successful pop career in 2015 — whatever combination of looks, talent, and so on, to say nothing of drive, it would seem you were dealt a pretty good hand in life. Would you concur?
GRAND: Oh yeah, I’m never one to downplay that, absolutely. We’re not all dealt the same hand. I think I’m lucky to a certain extent but also lucky to have work ethic and passion and to care about what I do. … You really have to be in this for the right reasons because if you’re not, it’s just not worth it.
BLADE: You’ve said before in interviews you were not dating but focusing on career development. Is that still the case?
GRAND: Absolutely. And even if I was, I wouldn’t say. I like to keep some things to myself. I love life and sex and all that, but that’s for me.
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.
-
Rehoboth Beach5 days agoCelebrate Pride in Rehoboth Beach this weekend
-
India4 days agoExpected India Supreme Court ruling could shape future LGBTQ rights cases
-
Maryland5 days agoChrista Tichy hopes to preserve LGBTQ representation in Md. House of Delegates
-
Venezuela4 days agoAdvocacy groups join Venezuela earthquake relief efforts
