Cafe Nine’s Paddy Meyer Brings What He Missed in NYC to NHV – and Makes It Better

A SPOTLIGHT ON THE NHV MUSIC CHAMPION

Paddy Meyer Outside Cafe NIne. All Photos by Zoe Jensen

You can’t miss Paddy when you walk into Cafe Nine—the co-owner sports a giant scorpion tattoo on his head, a thick East Coast accent, and a wide, cheesing grin. Whether he’s reminiscing about ska’s influence on his life or cracking gnarly jokes about his life in punk, Paddy’s energy is magnetic. It pulls you into Cafe Nine’s dark, storied wooden floors, the foundation of one of New Haven’s last bastions for local acts. Unlike venues catering to either the 45+ crowd or under-21 scene, Cafe Nine is a haven for the weird, the bold, and the beautiful—a scene Paddy saw fade in New York and vowed to nurture in New Haven.

Patrick "Paddy" Meyer was born into music, or at least into a family that appreciated it. His dad, a Times Square shoe-shine boy, collected doo-wop records, while his mom attended Woodstock (though her takeaway was more about the pills she witnessed than the music). Growing up between Queens and New Jersey, he was immersed in different genres of music around in, from DIY venues to music being played in the street. Neither parent played instruments, but boredom in a pre-smartphone childhood drove Paddy to pick up the guitar. That curiosity expanded to drums, harmonica, tambourine, and eventually a one-man-band setup he used to busk in New York’s subways. He ended up becoming a music teacher after high school, but that job did not last. “People gave me so much money I quit my music teaching job,” he said. “I made more busking.”

Paddy with Co-Owner Jesse Burke

Paddy’s musical journey includes stints with bands like Jeremy and the Harlequins, whose garage rock featured on shows like Vampire Diaries and Shameless. Touring Europe with the band exposed him to cities that actively supported local music. He’s also the drummer for the Stumblebum Brass Band, a chaotic spectacle known for antics like lead singer Smidge Malone screaming “I want to fuck you in the ass” into a megaphone on a Real Housewives of New York Christmas episode or drenching audiences in baby oil. The Stumblebums have shared stages with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Strokes, My Chemical Romance, and more classic early 2000s bands.

Despite reveling in New York’s underbelly—playing gigs in abandoned water towers, Gowanus Canal rafts, and derelict factories—Paddy’s lifestyle hit a crossroads. The birth of his first child forced him to seek stability. “Parenting put me into overdrive. It’s not about me anymore; it’s about this little sack of potatoes.” Skyrocketing rents further pushed him out of the city, and in 2015 he moved to New Haven for proximity to New York and a creative community.

Through Craigslist, Paddy landed a bartending job at the now-closed Anna Liffey’s, despite zero prior experience. “The owner said I looked like a bartender and hired me.” When Liffey’s shuttered in 2017, he transitioned to the Owl Shop, a hazy cigar bar with weekly jazz performances.

Still, the Owl Shop’s crowd didn’t align with Paddy’s love for alternative scenes, and admired Cafe Nine’s rock-and-roll ethos from afar. When longtime owner Paul Mayer decided to sell, Paddy and his coworker Jesse Burke seized the opportunity. Mayer, recognizing Paddy from past Harlequin days, trusted them to continue the bar’s legacy. Paddy had been a longtime fan, wanting to “honor the legacy Paul created at Cafe Nine, he really made the place that it is today, and had the vision to make it a club for independent original music.”

The transition was not smooth sailing. In February 2023, New Haven’s beloved Statehouse closed within two weeks of Paddy and Jesse officially taking over Cafe Nine. Financial constraints also forced Jesse and Paddy to initially lay off Cafe Nine’s staff, leaving Paddy and Jesse to bartend solo. Because of proximity to timing, people equated the Cafe Nine transition to the fall of Statehouse, particularly in articles from the New Haven Independent and the New Haven Registrar. “We bought the place, and everyone hated us,” Paddy admits.

Undeterred, they rebuilt the venue’s reputation. They diversified lineups, introduced dance nights, and created a space for a younger generation of musicians. “This is a place for the weird, the underrepresented, and the creative,” Paddy declares. But he’s quick to emphasize New Haven’s unique identity. “New Haven has its own sound. It’s not just an extension of New York—it’s its own thing, and it deserves to be celebrated.”

Now a Westville Dad, Paddy takes pride in running one of the few remaining independently owned music venues that champion original acts in his new home city. He provides much-needed fuel to a local artistic community that wants to celebrate each other, that craves weirdness, that lives on it. Paddy happily brings that love to the city, and continues to do it through all of the madness. “There’s not a lot of places like this left. I’m lucky to own one.”