Interview: Robbie Rozelle of CITATION NEEDED at 54 Below

That indefatigable teller of tales and jaunty jokes, Robbie Rozelle, is about to make his yearly sprint up onto and off of the cabaret stage.  Bombarded with projects for the Center Stage label, producing CDS for artists like Colin Donnell and Patti Murin, and his own work as a web designer, the popular raconteur and troubadour has had to limit his own performing to one show a year.  After some immediate success caused by a one-off nearly a decade ago, Rozelle has played some big rooms in New York City and London, released an album, and found a presence on Spotify, as well as hosting his own weekly variety show, so, whether he is on the stage as a performer or off the stage as a creator, Robbie Rozelle is just a busy man, especially on Sauce Sundays, the day he reserves, exclusively, for home life and culinary creations because Robbie also understands the importance of work/life balance.  Still, when I called  him and asked him to chat with me about his 2025 show CITATION NEEDED, Mr. Rozelle told me to name the time and place.  Sooner than you could say “cake or bread and butter,” Rozelle and I were making photos and chatting over a pot of tea.  The result of High Tea at Two-A is an intimate talk about the fear of creation, the value of challenging oneself, and the origin story of his obsession with music.  Check out that chat below and look into CITATION NEEDED, which plays 54 Below one week from today, on May 23rd at 9:30 pm (ticket link HERE).  

This interview has been edited for space and content.

Photos by Stephen Mosher

Hi, Robbie Rozelle.

Stephen Mosher, what a pleasure. 

How are you, my dear?

Today, I am good.

It's one of the good days.

Yeah.

We're going to talk a little bit about your new show, Citation Needed.  You always have such good titles for your club acts!

Honestly?  I name shows with something that makes me laugh, and if it makes me laugh, I hope that it makes my audience laugh. That’s really how it started.  Three days after I did Contractually Obligated, which was the last show I did, last year at 54 Below… every time you do a cabaret, you swear it off because it's very much like planning a wedding, but you don't get cake at the end. So you say to yourself, “I'm NEVER doing this again,” very dramatically, and three days later, in the shower, the words Citation Needed jumped into my head and I said, “Oh, that's really funny - I'm going to have to do another show.”   That's how this began.

So you have been planning this show for a year.

The (sort of) seed was planted a year ago. I've been actively planning it now for  two months.  (Author's note: this interview was done in February.)

All of your shows have these clever, pithy titles. 

Mm-hmm. 

Except Bring Me Giants. Bring Me Giants was an actual song title. Why, on that one, did you decide to go with a song title instead of something pithy and clever? 

I really liked what it was saying. I love the idea of “small things shouldn't scare me, bring me huge scary things”  and that show was a lot of big swings, some big misses… but it's big scary things, and I wanted the title to reflect that.

Let's talk about that. You said swings, hits, misses, and scary.  What is it, in the cabaret art form, that can provide so many facets to the creation of artistry?

I think cabaret that's done well is very vulnerable and revealing, especially when it's in a tiny room, like these are. It's very different from a concert where it's a huge stage and you've got an orchestra and Gershwin; it's so small and revealing, and that's what brings out the scary because you are truly the most vulnerable you are (when you're not having a colonoscopy) but it also offers a challenge, to hold a room for 75 to (I tend to run) 90 minutes long because of holding for laughs.  You sort of have to be all things for yourself. So you better be good at some of them.

Why go after what's going to scare you and not what is safe?

Why not? 

You and I know people who go for what's safe.

Sure. And some people who are safe do very well by it, and you will have a delightful evening in their safeness.  Truly, singing in small rooms like this is vulnerable and scary because you're stripped away. I'm spitting on the person in the front row, and that person paid $89 for the privilege (Laughing). This is the splash zone. And if you're going to do something, you should challenge yourself and try to consistently be better than the last time you were, in whatever you're doing. If you're woodworking, hopefully your lamp is better than the sign you made with your name on it, if you're a baker, hopefully your bagels come out better than the cake you made last week; and it's growth.  Right. David Yasbeck wrote this great song called Made of the Mist. I'm not singing the song in the show, I don't know why I'm telling you the story, but a line that has always stuck with me is “You've got to move to exist.” And that sentiment is so real. If you're not pushing yourself, if you're not trying to move forward, you're just stuck. And what use are you, if you're stuck,

Do you subscribe to the same philosophies in your life away from the stage?

Always. I think that's why I have chased this cabaret dragon so much is because doing this is a scary thing; I’m chasing it to conquer the fear of it. Like people who are scared of flying or people who are scared of roller coasters or dogs - you just, eventually, hope that the fear goes away. And now I'm very comfortable in the doing of it. 

When you've completed your performance, do you take the time to enjoy this new bloom in your vase? Or are you one of the people who focuses on the mistakes: what's your enjoyment level when you're finished? 

When I step on stage, I leave my body fully. And when I walk off stage, I walk off exhilarated, and having no idea what just happened for 75 to 90 minutes, because of laughs (Laughing).  So I don't know, but I take in what people have said, whether they are friends or family or fan or critics, and a week later I will revisit it. Usually, they're filmed or my husband will pull out the iPhone and hit voice memo to record so that I have like a copy.  If a joke did very well, I know that's something I can revisit and expand on. Or if something truly died in the room (and I've definitely had jokes that have died in the room)  I know that will never fly outta my mouth again. I usually don't touch that for about a week, so I can just sort of ride the “I am okay with what I did” thing.  (Laughing)  And then I can start to criticize myself.  Steve Sondheim and Jason Robert Brown had an interaction once where Jason was invited to see a preview of Passion, and  Steve said, “What did you think?” and Jason told the truth that night, the same night, and (Sondheim said that) at that time you just say, “It was great.”   A week later is when I'll start to send texts to friends and say, “I'm now accepting notes” because I've had time to put it to bed a little bit and not feel precious and in my feelings about it.

Is it hard for you or easier for you to open yourself up to what could potentially be something hurtful by way of notes?

It's easy for me once it’s put aside.  The day after, no, no thank you… but I also have a trusted group that I can run things past, either before or in the aftermath, the afterglow.  And, of course, I subscribe to believing all reviews because “if you believe the good things about you, you also believe the bad things about you.”  And anybody who says they don't read reviews are liars. All of that helps me grow. I just don't read it for a week.

You are widely known as a clown. 

Sure.

You take your humor very seriously. 

Yeah!

But you have also built yourself into a musical storyteller.

Yeah.

How do you find the balance in your 75 to 90 minutes of fun and the more heartfelt stories? 

I think that I have a formula for myself that works, and I front-load comedy because that is where a front-load would be. Then, the beating heart and sincerity that is underneath it is earned, like a stool song is earned. It doesn't just happen for me. I don't look at a set list and go, patter, comedy song, comedy song, comedy song, ballad. That’s not it for me.  It's more about the storytelling.  All of my shows have an arc - I lay some things very early in shows and I sprinkle seeds that bear fruit by the end of the show.  That's important to me, as a storyteller.

Tell me about Mr. Tanner.

Oh, god!!  Mr. Tanner is the perfect song that I discovered because I saw my glorious friend Laura Benanti sing it in concert. She sings it as a story song because she has a flawless voice.  But I looked at the lyrics of that song and internalized it so deeply… A few years ago, there was a person who must have imbibed too much or something, and slid into my DMs at 2:30 in the morning to tell me that I'm not a good singer, and that he didn't know why clubs booked me. I very much internalized that and turned back to Mr. Tanner and thought about the lyrics of that song and how music, for some people, is something they do very well.  Music, for some people, just brings them joy and wholeness.  That's what Mr. Tanner, the song, is about. He sang from his heart, he sang from his soul. He didn't know how well he sang. It just made him whole. And that is, I think, the thesis statement of what I do.

The song has sort of become yours. 

Yeah. 

You sing it quite often.

Yes. It is not in this new set list, which is okay; it's out there in the world. 

This is your song now.

I sort of claimed it as mine. Yeah. 

How does that feel?

Great. Like, who doesn't wanna be associated with something like Liz Callaway has Meadowlark, Patti’s got Don't Cry For Me Argentina.   It's become an interesting signature. Much like Jam Tomorrow became an interesting signature

This is interesting. Here are the comedy and tragedy masks: Jam Tomorrow, Mr. Tanner. It's sort of like the musical representation of who you are.

But Mr.Tanner comes late (in the show) because it is earned. The comedy is strong upfront and melts away into something more… like good storytelling.  Nobody wants you to bleed out on stage for 75 to 90 minutes.  You'd be a nervous wreck. Those ballad shows are not of interest to me because I can't do them well. 

They're not fun. They're not fun for the audience. They're not coming for anybody.

And how many shows have I seen where you're sold a bill of goods and you get there and it's something completely different?  And not in an upgraded way. That's why the titles I have are the titles I have. It is setting an expectation. This is what you're going to get. 

A second ago, you were talking about Mr. Tanner and how the music made him whole. 

Yeah. 

And music is quite literally your life. 

Mm-hmm.

Tell me when you realized, in your life, that music made you whole. Walk me through that journey.

So weird because music was always there, but also not, in my life. When my parents were still together (I never talk about my dad) when my parents were still together, I have very visceral memories of him sitting with his headphones on, next to the record player, and he was always listening to The Who or Queen - pop bands of that era, big singing pop bands of that era. 

I know the ones.

I remember that, but also never hearing them because it was all in his headphones.  Music entered my life through movie musicals because there were too many children at home. My parents had split, but every year, for Thanksgiving, the Wizard of Oz was on. And every year, for Easter, The Sound of Music was on. And then other movie musicals sort of infiltrated - Annie was very key to me. Talk about a Ring of Keys moment. Discovering that kind of music is what made me me.  I can tell you exactly the first two cassettes I ever bought, the first two vinyls I ever bought, and the first two CDs I ever bought, and they're all queer-coded in some way. Weirdly.  They all involve Bette Midler.  It was that and variety shows like The Carol Burnett Show. That's how music entered my life. Now, for almost 30 years, I've been recording music, cast albums, and solo albums and things like that, in various lanes and with various 0record labels.   Now, it's what I do all the time. 

And now you are a record producer.

Yeah.

How many have you done now?

Ten. I start pre-production on a new one next week.   All happy accidents. Honestly, one day I should do a show called Happy Accidents because I just fell ass-backwards into everything I've ever done. I was never meant to do any of this, and yet, I'm somehow thriving in it.

You say you were never meant to do any of it, but you started out as an actor wanting to do musicals. 

Sure.   But didn’t everyone?  You were an actor at one point.

I had dreams of it, but it couldn't work for me.

I come from a very tiny town, and so, of course, I was doing musicals in my very tiny town.

I think every little gay boy… 

is doing a musical in their tiny town!

…in their tiny bedroom. 

…yes, of course!   

I put on plays for nobody in my bedroom.    But then you get here and you go...

OH, ho ho ha ha ha!  oKAY!

I can put on my own play at 54 Below. 

That was never the goal; that was never in my purview. I was very happy working with others and helping them do some of their best work. I was so happy with that… this was an accident that was only supposed to happen one time, nine years ago, to entertain my friends for a night.   And now it’s like a parallel career!  (Laughing)

Last year, you came here to have your picture taken with the sweater from The Sweater Book.

The Sweater Book!

The portraits from the sweater book are supposed to be highly personalized. 

Mm-hmm. 

And for your personalized picture, you brought the cast recording to The Drowsy Chaperone. 

Yeah.

 And you told me, “I want to manifest this.” 

Mm-hmm. 

So, talk to me about any potential there might be for getting you back on the musical theater stage as an actor.

Listen, there there were two props that were in the portraits. One was Barbara Streisand's My Passion for Design, and the other was The Drowsy Chaperone. I'm quickly aging out of Buyer and Cellar, but I would kill to do any musical, truly … give me six weeks as Ruth in Titanique, please…  if Orfeh can do three performances of Chicago… I think she had three weeks.  Let's go!  I'm available!

Your voice teacher, Chris Sanders, recently did a cabaret show. 

Yeah. 

Tell me what it's like being on the other side, sitting in the audience, watching your coach.

So happy watching him take center stage because, oftentimes, a teacher stops performing themselves because they're so engrossed in coaching others and helping them - again, same thing - helping other people achieve their best work, just in the same way where I was writing and directing for other people, Chris coached me through Meadowlark when I reopened 54 below, was that four years ago?

I think it's five now. 

Which is so weird because I'm only 17!

I'm 27.

Chris was so wonderful, he did the entire Barbara Cook Kennedy Center Honor - I was in heaven. 

You get very excited when your loved ones have successes.

You want your people to succeed.

Your family's important to you.

My chosen family is very important to me, but I want everyone to succeed.

That's kind of a guiding light in your life, isn't it? 

Yeah.  It costs nothing to want somebody else to succeed. It is free. Joy is free, and it brings me great joy to see people that I love flourish.

On the stage, you bring your friends along to play with you every single time.

That's true!

You love sharing your sandbox

Yeah!  Guests don't sell tickets. In my experience, a special guest does not help move a needle more than a ticket or two. For me, it's just about “Let's have some fun and do something great.” The only time I've ever cold asked somebody to be in a show of mine was when Inappropriate Patti and I did Move On at Birdland:  I said, “I have an idea for a thing. Are you into this bit?” He looked me up and said, “Yes, absolutely.” And we developed a great friendship out of that, which is amazing, but it's always friends.

And speaking of friends, returning with you is your usual band. 

The Two Drink Minimum!  And Yasuhiko Fukuoka - I know when something really good happened on stage, when I get a snort laugh from Yaz at the piano. I don't do my patter through soundcheck, so the band never knows what I'm going to say, except for, “This is your cue to start playing.”  And if I can make them laugh, I'm doing my job.

I’m thinking about your work as a director - when you're directing somebody else's club act, as opposed to when you're creating your own club act,d o you go in with a different mindset? 

Yeah. I love to just walk into the sandbox and roll up my sleeves and say, “Okay, what stories do we wanna tell?”  As a director, I will say to the person that I'm directing, “Why don't you create a vomit list of 50 or so songs that interest you, and let's see if we can suss out a theme or an arc of some sort.” Sometimes that's fully baked by the artist, and sometimes it's fully baked by me. Most of the time, it's somewhere in between. 

Throughout every 12-month calendar year, you are so busy helping artists with their CD covers and their cabaret shows, but you only do one show a year.

There was a time when that was going to expand, and then the pandemic happened. Then, coming out of the pandemic, I reopened 54 Below and that sold out very, very fast, so I was like, “Oh, okay, we're back.”  I was offered a residency at a club, and that failed to ignite, so I joke that I had a hit residency of one performance. I think that some people are mainstay in your diet, and some things are special occasions. You know what I mean? I am an éclair - you're not gonna have me every day. But when I come out, it's good.

Robbie, thank you for chatting with me today.   I’ll see you at Citation Needed!

Yay!

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