To spot the old Headroom LGBTQ+ Lounge, look for a wide, industrial-style building with big windows and a tan facade, tucked behind a metal awning right across the street from where you're standing.
Alright-pause here a moment, and let’s conjure up the magic that once filled this humble stretch of Bay Street. Imagine neon lights flickering to life behind those windows, the thump of music pulsing through the concrete walls, and the laughter drifting onto the sidewalk, no matter the weather or the worries of the world. Yes, right here stood Headroom LGBTQ+ Lounge-Jersey City’s sparkling beam of queer nightlife, even though it shone only briefly.
Back in late 2020, when the world was quieter, distant, and starved for smiles (not to mention decent Wi-Fi connections), Headroom opened its doors in this very spot. Run by Joseph Cameron and Howard Brunner, it wasn’t just any bar. It was the only LGBTQ venue in the city with a real, honest-to-goodness stage. Picture velvet curtains, sequins catching the light, and tables spaced six feet apart-because let’s face it, during the pandemic, socializing meant learning the choreography to “keep your distance.”
And if you were in need of color on a gray Jersey night, what a show you’d get! Drag artists-some local legends, some fresh from the glitterbomb that is RuPaul’s Drag Race-brought sass and sparkle. You could even catch “A Trans-elebration,” a night crafted to honor trans performers. On weekends, drag brunches served up pancakes with a full side of shade, and whenever Drag Race aired live, Olivia Lux would lead the party right from this stage.
Let’s not glaze over the wild reality-Headroom opened during COVID-19, a time when most places were worried about how to squeeze their old routines into a world full of rules and masks. But here, distancing and safety were built in from day one: temperature checks at the door, spaced tables, and masked-up patrons cheering behind their cocktails. It was a safe haven in every sense-a place you could shake off the world and just be yourself, no apologies or questions asked.
But darkness crept in quicker than anyone wanted. After just six months, on the cusp of Memorial Day weekend in 2021-right when things were looking brighter and the world was about to unmask-Headroom slammed shut. The drama wasn’t on stage this time. It was off-stage, brewing between the owners. There were whispers about fees and contracts, money meant for performers, one owner asking for a bigger piece of the pie. When push came to shove, the locks changed, and the music stopped overnight.
Both sides told their stories-one said it was about honoring the performers, the other said it was just business. Meanwhile, the community reeled. Performers and staff had to scramble. Some nearby businesses stepped up to support, hiring out-of-work entertainers or donating to help staff stay afloat. The spirit of Headroom, that sense of belonging, lingered like glitter in the air, even as its doors stayed dark.
And oh, what Headroom meant! Critics raved about the top-notch shows. It wasn’t just a place to grab a drink-it was a spot to see and be seen, to celebrate being entirely, unashamedly yourself. For six fleeting months, this place promised warmth during a cold time, light during a difficult year. One writer even said, “There was nothing else like it around.” You’d better believe the city felt that loss.
Even now, as you stand here, you can imagine the echo of music, the swirling energy, the roar of the crowd when a queen made her grand reveal or when the brunch crowd let out a collective gasp. The Headroom LGBTQ+ Lounge was a stage, a safety net, an experiment in hope against the odds-a reminder that sometimes the shortest stories leave the sharpest memories.
Who knows? The dream of Headroom hasn’t vanished forever. There’s talk it could rise up somewhere new. But for a moment, right here, Jersey City partied like nowhere else. And standing outside these doors, you’re walking right through the heart of its history-heels, sequins, and all.
