August 01, 2026 | Michail Takach

Tony "DJ Tonya" Aiello: spinning the sounds of freedom

After two decades as the La Cage House DJ, Tony's next chapter became his greatest remix.

As PrideFest 2004 came to an end, Tony Aiello walked away from the La Cage turntables for the first time in two decades.

Known to thousands as Milwaukee’s "DJ Tonya," Aiello was facing down a devastating and life-threatening health crisis. After a relentless, pulsating 20-year career as the music maker of Walker’s Point, he bravely began preparing for the end of his life.

But this wasn’t the end. It was just the first beats of a whole new remix.

Today, the man who once spun records on Milwaukee’s sweatiest dance floors is forging the future as a university educator. Following a remarkable medical recovery and a return to academia, Aiello’s story is a testament to resilience, the evolution of LGBTQ nightlife, and the rhythm of a life lived across two very different chapters.

Rolling up the sidewalks

Born in 1962, Aiello grew up on the north side of Racine. His father was just a teenager when he immigrated from Italy in the 1950s and started a family. Tony may have only had one brother and one sister, but he grew up in a bustling multigenerational household full of aunts, uncles, and cousins. His mother came from a Polish family as large as his father’s Italian family.

Tony attended Gilmore Junior High School and Horlick High School on Rapids Drive. He remembers shopping for flare pants at Wooden Nickel, picking out pet turtles at Grant’s, and browsing the aisles of Turn Style.

“I had one of those perfect ‘70s childhoods,” said Tony. “We were outside more than we were inside and our parents never knew what we were up to.”

He had a girlfriend in high school, but they both understood they were just friends. They spent time together after school and eventually went to senior prom together. His mother assumed there was more to it, but the truth was that Tony liked boys.

In the 1970s, Racine was still a quiet, small town with strict limitations for a young gay man coming of age. "They rolled up the sidewalks at 6 p.m.," Aiello recalled, noting that even the city buses stopped running after sundown. For someone who desperately wanted to be a night owl, the sleepy industrial city felt stifling. He needed to get out.

But where? And how? These weren’t easy questions to answer in 1970s Racine.

Jo’Dee’s: Racine’s safe space

Tony’s world opened wide during his senior year.

His best friend Mary sensed he was down, and asked what was wrong. Before he could even answer, she extended a surprising invitation.

“Would you like to go to the gay rap group at the Unitarian Universalist Church on Sunday afternoons in downtown Racine?”

“She broke the ice before I ever had to say the words myself,” said Tony. “Of course, I wanted to go.”

Tony was still trying to figure himself out, as well as the world around him. When he met Reverend Dr. Tony Larsen, he knew he was in the right place. Over the next four decades, Rev. Larsen supported many community causes, including support for mental health, sexual violence survivors, people with AIDS, and migrant rights. He led the Racine Gay Rights March for decades before retiring in December 2017.

(Listen to a WGTD interview with Reverend Larsen.)

“I drove a very distinctive customized AMC Gremlin,” said Tony. “My father rebuilt it as a summer project, so he could give me a car for my sixteenth birthday. I was terrified that someone would recognize my car parked outside the church. I would park down the block and around the corner, near the telephone company, so that nobody would know I was here.”

After attending a few meetings, the paranoia began to fade. Tony became more comfortable with who he was, and less concerned about who might see him. After the meetings, he’d join a group at Andrea’s Restaurant in downtown Racine, where conversations continued long into the evening.

“It was like Racine’s version of Ma Fischer’s,” said Tony. “Through those gatherings, I learned about Jo’Dee’s, Racine’s gay bar. I never knew gay bars existed until those meetings. That’s where it all began.”

Jo’Dee’s International may have been a small tavern, but it would become a huge life-changer for Tony. It became a social sanctuary and the birthplace of his DJ career. It was an intimate venue with a capacity of just 85 people, featuring a small dancefloor, a mirror ball, and a unique "Murphy stage" that folded out from the wall.

“I didn’t even go there to drink,” he said. “Most nights, all I was drinking was Pepsi.”

The bar was owned by Judy Kunza and her partner Margaret, a well-respected photographer who shot Aiello's senior portrait. Kunza, whom Aiello remembers as an "awesome human being" with a very distinct, butch appearance that frequently led to her being mistaken for a man, ran the establishment like a matriarch.

Jo’Dee’s was all about community. There was conversation, pinball, darts, a jukebox, arcade games, and a wall of Margaret’s latest photo shoots. Judy installed a wall of clocks from time zones around the world: Tokyo, New York, Chicago, Paris – and that’s how the name Jo’Dee’s International came to be.

“Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man were everyone’s favorites at the time,” said Tony.

Jo’Dee’s was more than just a watering hole; it was a safe house. Kunza owned the building and offered the upstairs apartments to patrons facing family rejection or the struggles of coming out. Many of the residents worked downstairs in the bar, forming a fiercely close-knit chosen family. The bar welcomed a diverse crowd of Racine workers, neighbors, youth, and elderly patrons alike.

"Judy always had excellent advice," Aiello said, “and she didn’t give a shit if you wanted to hear it or not. She was going to tell you anyway.” He added that even when they didn't see eye-to-eye, there was always mutual respect between them.

“At one point, there was a gay bar on every corner of Racine Street,” said Tony. “Not a lot of people know that. There was What About Me (the former Music Box,) a lesbian bar on 6^th and Racine. Later, Bobby Lyons opened Stealers, a short-lived spot across the street.”

“Of course, Bobby owned The Shack on Highway 32 in Kenosha County. Since the Wisconsin drinking age was 18, and Illinois was 21, lots of kids crossed the border for The Shack. Bobby’s brother, Donald Lyons, DJ’d there and performed as ‘Layla’ in drag. The Shack was always packed on weekends. When Kenosha bar time rolled around (1am,) people would jump in their cars and head to Milwaukee where bars closed at 3:30am back then.”

In 1980, Aiello began working weekends at Jo’Dee’s. Although he only made $20 per gig, getting paid was entirely secondary to his passion.

“The DJ booth was a tiny cubbyhole above the jukebox,” said Tony. “It was so small, you couldn’t stand up inside it. You had to sit. My friend Richard Doss and I would climb up inside and DJ on weekends. When I first started, Richard loaned me records until I could build my own collection.”

He and his friends worked day jobs solely to fund their music obsessions, spending ten times their earnings on 12-inch singles. Securing these records required hunting through downtown Racine, frequenting Camelot Music at Regency Mall — where he purchased his first 12-inch remix, "Safety Dance" — or the Beautiful Day head shop in downtown Racine.

"When you found a store that had 12-inch remixes, it got your attention," he said. “These weren’t widely available to the public back then.”

Eventually, Tony recorded his own mixtape using primitive home turntables and cassette decks. He didn’t even own an audio mixer.

“That tape would change my life,” he laughed. “It became my application for a life-changing job.”

Jo’Dee’s was the undisputed king of Racine nightlife for decades. When Bobby Lyons, owner of The Shack, tried to open Stealers nightclub across the street (to “steal” business, get it?) Judy was completely unimpressed. She knew that there was no real threat to the business she’d built. Plus, she owned the building – so she had security that no other gay bar of the era could beat.

Inside Jo’Dee’s, Tony could be himself. The outside world wasn’t so simple.

Tony’s coming out process was shockingly harsh. And it wasn’t a single conversation. It happened at one of the most difficult periods of his life. While balancing a full-time job as a crisis counselor, working three part-time jobs, and attending school full-time for computer science, his life was upended.

“My college roommates discovered that I’d hooked up with one of our neighbors,” said Tony. “When I returned to the apartment, my roommate Donnie confronted me. I was told that I was no longer welcome. My belongings had already been thrown into the yard. They left me a hateful message: NO FAGS ALLOWED.”

“To make matters worse, my roommates had taken my car for a joyride and abandoned it in a ditch. It took three days to find it. After the sheriff located it in a farmer’s field, my father helped me tow and recover it.”

Left with nowhere else to go, he dropped out of school and moved back in with his parents.

“That incident exposed what had been happening – and made it clear that I’d been bullied out of my living situation,” said Tony. “I knew I had to figure out my next steps fast.”

Becoming DJ Tonya

One of those next steps was accepting a position at La Cage.

Tony had big ambitions, and they were ultimately bigger than Jo’Dee’s. When an ad circulated announcing the opening of a "new state of the art video dance club" in Milwaukee, he knew he had to apply. This place was going to be revolutionary, and he wanted to be part of it.

He sent in his mix tape as an audition.

Judy Kunza (Photo credit: Todd Fortier)

Jo'Dee's International (Photo credit: Todd Fortier)

Inside Jo'Dee's International (Photo credit: Todd Fortier)

Getting facetime with George Prentice, owner of La Cage, was a challenge. George was very busy getting the new club open, and there were a lot of missed connections. Frustrated and feeling down, Aiello went out with friends to The Phoenix. To his absolute shock, the music playing over the speakers was his own audition tape. He soon discovered that the owner of Phoenix, Jim Seeboth, was George's business partner.

Tony was relieved: if his tape was good enough to be played at the Phoenix, it might just be good enough to play at La Cage.

He was right. George liked his mix tape – a lot – and he was hired.

In March 1984, he received the call to come in and practice at La Cage Nite Club.

“Before La Cage, I had barely experienced Milwaukee,” said Tony. “Miss Frankie, a Racine drag queen, introduced me to the city. We went to Factory, Club 219, Park Avenue, and Paradise Books on Water Street. I had no idea what I was walking into.”

“The afterhours scene at Paradise was an education unto itself. Men lined the walls waiting for eye contact or a signal. The concept of glory holes was completely new to me. Eventually, I discovered the bathhouse and Chicago Boystown scenes as well.”

“I was young, curious, and experiencing a much larger world than I knew in Racine.”

In its early days, La Cage was essentially one long, narrow room, with the DJ booth situated right next to the exhaust fan. The technology was primitive by today's standards: everything operated via push-button, relying on old A/B cable switches and three VCRs that required manual toggling. Tony was there from the very beginning, working the private soft opening on a Thursday night before the grand opening weekend.

Originally, head DJ Ty King handled the Top 40 tracks, while Tony played R&B and hip-hop as his alternate. After King left the business, Aiello cemented his nightlife legacy as the main DJ for La Cage. For the next 20 years, Aiello was a salaried employee, working five nights a week, including every single Friday and Saturday.

“I originally wanted to call myself DJ T,” said Tony. “No one else agreed. They said, your name is Tony A, so you’re Tonya now. I hated it at first! I didn’t like being called a girl’s name. Eventually, I gave in and the name stuck. DJ Tonya was born.”

La Cage was a dynamic, constantly evolving space. George Prentice was known for his “spare no expense” renovation projects which kept customers invested and engaged in the experience. The club never closed during these remodeling projects: patrons simply danced around the progress.

“I remember one fascinating project, where we replaced the entire floor of the adjacent building to create Dance Dance Dance,” said Tony. “The entire floor was gone, and you could see all the way into the basement of the building.”

At one point, La Cage installed telephones so patrons could call the DJ Booth with request. Tony had to create databases and indexing systems so songs could be located quickly.

“Back then, requests rarely came empty-handed,” said Tony. “If you wanted a favor from the DJ, you usually brought a drink. Today, people simply type a request into their phone, increase the font size, and walk past the booth holding it up for the DJ to read.”

The club attracted massive acts and wildly unpredictable moments. As Holly Brown & Company became increasingly popular, straight couples came for the drag shows and stayed for the dance music. La Cage featured live concerts by Bronski Beat and Dead or Alive (complete with a Pete Burns lookalike contest!) The bar was a favorite stop for visiting celebrities over the years, especially pop and dance acts performing at Summerfest.

“You never knew who might pop into the DJ booth back then,” said Tony. “One night, it was Belinda Carlisle!”

Over the years, Tony performed in two turnabout drag shows. The first was as Nina Hagen, performing “New York, New York,” and “Dr. Beat” by Miami Sound Machine. Years later, he performed “Pump Up the Jam” for a Milwaukee AIDS Project fundraiser.

“Friends painted my face and assembled outfits from Goldie Adams’s collection,” said Tony. “Drag was never really my thing, but it was good fun for a good cause.”

Milwaukee’s voice of the Billboard Top 100

One of Aiello's proudest professional achievements was elevating La Cage from a local hotspot to a nationally recognized changemaker.

While working at La Cage, Tony was creating mixtapes not only for clubs, but for local businesses, including Bally’s Total Fitness, whose instructors used them for aerobics classes. Every few weeks, he and DJ Kimberly Anne took the train to Chicago and spent the day buying records.

As his DJ career grew, he joined Independent Record Service (IRS) in Chicago. Every month, he submitted his Top 50 charts and received 20-30 new records. When an opening appeared on the Billboard reporting panel, he applied and was selected. Aiello became one of just 100 DJs nationwide responsible for aggregating the data that created the Billboard Top 100 Dance Club Hits. The labels started sending records directly to him. New music started arriving daily.

“I grew up listening to Janet Jackson, Michael Jackson, Madonna, M People, and yes, Rick Astley,” he laughed. “Picking my favorite ten songs would be impossible today.”

Tony would spend entire days on the phone with record label representatives across the United States. The pressure was intense: reps would frantically call, sometimes simultaneously, demanding to know if their records were being played and pushing for them to be moved up the charts. Tony had just two to three weeks to test a new track on the crowd. The rules were strict: he could not accept bribes, and his charts had to be genuinely reflective of what was packing the La Cage dance floor, otherwise he risked being audited and removed from the panel. (David Konopka of Club Marilyn was also a reporter at the time.)

He held this prestigious, unpaid position for five years. The perks, however, were legendary. When artists like Madonna released an album, Tony would receive 30 copies along with promotional posters for giveaways. Whenever acts like the Pet Shop Boys, The B-52s, Taylor Dayne, or Cathy Dennis toured through Milwaukee or Chicago, free tickets and backstage passes were overnighted to La Cage. Thanks to this status, he even saw Janet Jackson twice in the span of a few weeks.

The (not-so) good old days

La Cage was an immediate and tremendous success. It became Milwaukee’s hottest nightspot, not just because of the music, people, and vibes, but because it provided a truly top-tier experience. And, like Jo’Dee’s before it, La Cage was a sanctuary in a sometimes-cruel world.

“People today sometimes forget how different things were,” said Tony. “Gay bashing was real. Groups of guys would come into the city looking for gay people to harass or assault. They carried baseball bats, golf clubs. People were regularly called names just for existing. I even witnessed a police squad use its loudspeaker to shout slurs at people entering the bar. You did not walk from bar to bar alone!”

Tony was extra grateful to have his friend Goldie Adams at his side.

“When trouble started, Goldie ran directly towards it. She was our protector. She was never afraid to bash back."

"One of her favorite lines were, ‘now go back and tell your friends that a man in a dress kicked your ass!’”

Tony was aboard the La Cage float for the 1990 Pride Parade. Later, he heard stories from performers, including Rudi DiAngelo and Jackie Roberts, that other people on the La Cage float were shot with BB guns.

“Hate was out in the open, in your face, all the time.”

In the late ‘80s, Tony met Anthony Hughes, one of the first deaf patrons he befriended. Hughes loved La Cage because the immense sound system allowed him to physically feel the bass. Aiello was so moved by the presence of the deaf community in the club that he learned American Sign Language (ASL) just to communicate with them over the blaring music.

Tragically, Hughes was one of Jeffrey Dahmer’s victims.

“I can’t describe how it felt to read that in the newspaper,” said Tony. “It still hurts even now.”

In 1996, Dance Gay America recorded one of Tony’s La Cage sets.

“You never really see me in the footage,” said Tony, “as the focus was always on the dancers, performers, and personalities who made the scene special. Initially, the producers recorded audio using microphones in the room, which sounded terrible. I provided a direct feed from the DJ Booth so viewers could hear the music properly.”

Tony's voice is often remembered by La Cage customers, even if they never saw his face. One of his legendary announcements is still quoted today.

"Do not dance with a drink in your hand!" laughed Tony. "Yep. That was me yelling at you."

The 30-year Spring Break

The music began to fade in 2004.

Tony found himself facing two deeply challenging health issues. His hip was deteriorating from the inside out, requiring intensive surgery and therapy to heal. And then he was diagnosed with AIDS, which came with a course of medications with brutal side effects.

“I had to recognize the severity of my situation,” said Tony. “I needed to make immediate lifestyle changes, or I would simply not survive.”

When George Prentice suggested it was time to retire, noting he was planning to sell La Cage and retire himself, Tony realized he was at the end of this chapter. While he appreciated his retirement party among two decades of friends, he found very little joy in the celebration.

“I accepted a position with Custom Designed Lighting, Sound & Video, a company responsible for designing and installing technology systems in many of Milwaukee’s well-known clubs, including La Cage, Rain, and Steny’s,” said Tony. “I became general manager within a year.”

Chuck Cicirello, owner of Club 219, also made him an offer. Chuck needed a vice president on his liquor license, following the departure of DJ Kimberly Anne, and asked Tony to go into business with him. Despite the well-meaning advice of friends, Tony accepted the title.

But it was a somber final year. The club was out of money, the debts were stacked higher than the building stood, and the place was falling apart. The soda was flat. The performers weren’t getting paid anymore. When things broke, they were not repaired. When things were stolen, they weren’t replaced.

“There was a heat wave that summer, but we didn’t have air conditioning,” said Tony, “because someone stole the compressor.”

Tony was there until the tragic end of Club 219, when iconic fixtures were sold off at auction and disappeared into history.

While Club 219’s story ended in October 2005, Tony’s story had a surprise twist. Changing doctors and his course of treatment resulted in a shocking turnaround. As his health improved, he pursued the hip replacement surgery he long needed.

Today, Tony is undetectable – something he calls “miraculous.”

“When I realized, I was going to live, I remembered a promise I made to God,” said Tony. “If I lived, I would finish my computer science degree, abandoned so long ago when I was kicked out of my college housing. It was time to honor that promise.”

Following the Great Recession, his employer consolidated operations, which inspired him to decide he would return to college. After his “30-year spring break,” Tony enrolled at UW-Parkside in 2011. He was 49 years old.

“I worried people would laugh at me – a nearly 50-year-old man sitting in classrooms, full of young people,” said Tony. “I sat in the front row and made a promise to myself: I was going to prove I could still do this.”

To qualify for computer science coursework, Tony had to start all over with college algebra, trigonometry, calculus, analytical geometry, and discrete mathematics.

“Math was the challenge!” he said.

During his first week, a woman waved at him in the cafeteria. He smiled and waved back, although he didn’t recognize her. Later, he learned it was Chancellor Deborah Ford.

“That simple gesture gave me confidence. It made me feel like I belonged.”

Even as the coursework became more difficult, Tony earned Dean’s List and Provost’s List honors several times and graduated with multiple honor cords.

“My best friend had earned several in 2010, and I wanted to match him,” said Tony. “Or maybe even beat him!”

He didn’t just finish his degree: he excelled beyond his wildest dreams. He graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science, a minor in web development, and certifications in Linux administration and cybersecurity. He didn’t stop there: he immediately enrolled in the master’s program, and the university waived his entrance exam.

During his graduate studies, Tony worked on a prototype website called TiX-SOCIAL. Designed to replace physical event tickets, the surveillance-grade facial recognition system was powerful enough to scan, identify, and register an entire crowd.

UW-Parkside, in need of an instructor, asked Tony to teach Linux administration courses while he was still completing his master's degree. Following a colleague’s retirement, he navigated three rounds of interviews and secured a full-time teaching position in 2022.

When the COVID-19 pandemic forced education online, Aiello adapted quickly, ensuring his classes reached cloud computing modules before going remote. He also used masking to his advantage, undergoing some cosmetic surgery while his face was covered, joking that he was "probably the first masked person in Racine.”

“If I had finished my computer science degree in the 1980s, I would have been right in the middle of the transition from analog to digital technology,” said Tony. “My career still put me in direct contact with emerging technologies, so I didn’t miss the transition entirely. But my role would have been very different.”

“If I could go back and tell my younger self anything, it would be simple: stay in school.”

Farewell to a friend

Judy Kunza passed away on June 5, 2012 at the age of 72. For over four decades, Judy had been a matriarch for her chosen family, guiding them through their challenges, cheering their celebrations, and lending a supportive shoulder to cry on. And now she was gone.

Without her visionary leadership, Jo'Dee's International struggled to keep the lights on. The neighborhood was evolving, crime was on the rise, costs were through the roof, and customers just weren't showing up like they used to. Difficult choices had to be made.

Jo'Dee's closed in May 2014 after 44 years in business. At the time, it was (remarkably) the second-longest operating gay bar in the state of Wisconsin, which was always a point of pride for Racine. There were no other queer spaces left in the city, and none rose up in Jo'Dee's wake. It was truly the end of an era.

Reflections on a changing world

Tony says that nowadays, he’s not really “Tonya” anymore. His students call him Professor, Tony, or just Aiello. But Tonya still makes fresh jams and share them online.

Tony will be releasing his next album, Portals II, later in 2026. He also has a Soundcloud account as well as a website and YouTube channel.

In March 2026, Tony returned to La Cage for the first time in 22 years to DJ the club’s anniversary celebration.

“It was an absolute blast!” he said. “I saw friends and former co-workers I haven’t seen in forever. Some traveled long distances for the event, and in a few cases, I didn’t even recognize them until we started talking. Getting older is strange. You look at someone and think ‘who is this?’ and then suddenly you recognize the smile, the eyes, the energy, and they’re instantly familiar again.”

It triggered memories, but also observations, about a world that seems to be changing faster than ever.

Dance music, he notes, has shifted drastically. To Tony, who used to break records over weeks on the Billboard charts, "AI generated loop DJs" simply do not constitute real music. He describes modern club mixes as "short attention span theater," criticizing the trend of playing mere 30-second clips of songs, which he likens to a modern-day “Stars on 45” medley.

“It was cheesy then, and it’s cheesy now,” he laughs.

He also wishes that there was more local club representation at events like PrideFest.

“We built that Dance Pavilion to showcase local DJs from LGBTQ bars across the state,” said Tony. “Now, the focus has shifted entirely to bringing in big-name talent, most of which has nothing to do with the LGBTQ community. There was a time when playing at PrideFest launched a DJ’s whole career.”

He also sees positive evolution. La Cage has become vastly more inclusive, without some of the rumblings of racial tension that was heard in the past. The club is no longer limited to youngest, prettiest, and most popular. In fact, he sees men his own age at La Cage, blending in with everyone else without feeling uncomfortable or unwelcome.

“La Cage has always been a unique space that people want to explore,” said Tony. “That has always been part of its magic: what’s going on in there? What am I missing out on?”

And from a purely business standpoint, he understands the necessity of mass appeal: keeping a massive, open-air venue requires packing it to the walls to stay open.

“It’s not like the old days, where you could close one side to make the other side look busy,” said Tony. “Nowadays, you need to pack the house, or it looks empty.”

“And, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that nobody wants to dance on an empty dance floor.”