“Should I just get gnocchi alla vodka?”
This wasn’t a question to be taken lightly—it was maybe the most important question of the night, even. Gabi Gamberg, lead singer, composer, and guitarist of Daffo, posed it just an hour before their October 18th performance at the Bowery Ballroom. With less than an hour until showtime, we broke into a light jog towards fast-casual Italian spot “Gnocchi on 9th.” Call it pre-show cardio.
For the next 20 minutes or so, we zip in and out of traffic, look both ways, dodge Citi Bikes, and do our best to talk about music.
Daffo is currently on their second tour, having first joined Vermont indie rock band Sir Chloe in 2024 on their tour. This time around, they’re on the road in support of illuminati hotties, an LA band created by Sarah Tudzin. Besides Gabi, Daffo currently consists of guitarist Wyatt Kirschner, bassist Adri Ella, and drummer Sam Martinez.
Their sound blends grunge, folk, punk, and the occasional fiddle—sometimes a simple acoustic guitar, other times a distorted electric. Stepping into a Daffo song feels like being in a bedroom with no lights on an afternoon—an uncomfortable familiarity. And like sunlight from the window in that room revealing floating particles of dust, Gabi’s voice is illuminating, floating, breaking at just the right moments.
As we approach a crosswalk I ask how it feels to be on their second tour. While balancing Google Maps and oncoming traffic they answer, “It feels great, I feel tired. I love being on tour. Playing shows is my favorite thing to do ever and I get to do it everyday. I feel like I could play shows forever…”
We cross.
Gabi’s ability to perform isn’t just a skill—it’s second nature at this point. This came through as I was watching their performance, but also in how the upcoming show didn’t seem to weigh heavily on their mind. They busily coordinated VIP passes, checked the lights in the tour van, picked up their gnocchi minutes before the show, asked for a light, and laughed through the chaos of it all. Gabi would have gnocchi for dinner and the Bowery Ballroom stage for dessert. We up our pace, and as they exhale a few clouds of cigarette smoke and smile widely, it becomes clear: all the stressors of touring would never be about the music.
“[Performing is] a huge emotional release,” Gabi said. “Right now I’m like, yapping away, but I’m very bad at explaining how I feel in regular words. I feel like I articulate myself better in song form. And performing allows me to connect with people over it.”
Gabi’s journey began in high school.They further honed their craft at the NYU’s Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music. After signing a record deal, going on their first tour , and gaining traction with their 2023 EP Pest, Gabi made the decision to drop out and pursue their music full-time.
They admitted, “God, not being in school is hard. I have ADHD, so this is the first time in my life I don’t have any structure in my day-to-day. I had just signed a record deal and gotten a tour, but I was the most depressed I’ve ever been. Everyone was like, ‘You’re on top of the world, this is amazing.’ And I was like, yeah, on paper, I have everything I’ve ever wanted, but I feel the worst ever. It’s just a huge transition. But now, I feel great about it. I’ve always felt like this was the right thing, but now I really feel it”
For Gabi, human connection seems to lighten the load in general.“My favorite part [about touring] is meeting people who listen to my music,” Gabi said. “ It just reinforces at least why I share my music. I make music for myself but I share my music for people to feel a certain way about it. When I actually get to meet those people in person, it means a lot more than numbers on my phone giving me a statistic.”
They casually declare, “Okay let’s go back, I have to play a show.”
Gnocchi in grip, we march back to The Bowery Ballroom—it is an odd image. Gabi says they feel like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada, strutting down the busy sidewalk, fielding questions. A folk-rock, indie-alternative Devil Wears Prada—except the Devil doesn’t wear Prada. And the Devil isn’t really a devil at all, considering they kindly agree to a walking interview moments before their show. I admire that this “devil” doesn’t wear Prada. I admire that they don’t put on some forced visual aesthetic, either. I know this because Daffo’s audience does the same thing. You wouldn’t be able to tell who is a Daffo fan and who is not based on an outfit or vibe.
What does this do? At a Daffo show, everyone’s invited. Your boots, microbangs, and nonchalant demeanor don’t matter in the musical presence of Gabi. Appealing to one specific curation of people is something they can’t adhere to; this is also true musically, as their discography has immense range. In short, Daffo seems to foster an unintentional inclusivity.
I, tripping over myself, ask about the kind of performer they are. “It really just depends on the night. I am very all over the place with all my emotions and opinions. Nothing ever stays the same. If you had this interview with me in a month from now, all the answers would be different. Which is cool, maybe for writing, but not for my sanity. It’s hard to keep track of myself.”
We move faster as we realize it is also hard to keep track of the time.
Nothing ever stays the same; an aesthetic, a performance, a thought process, an answer. Sure, it’s harder to pin down,but it’s part of the fun. While Gabi’s songs absolutely tackle heavier themes, there’s still a sense of childlike spontaneity at the heart of Daffo’s roots.
“I spent so much of my life crushing the child part of me, trying to grow up,” Gabi said. ‘I grew up with older sisters and I forced myself to grow up too quickly. So I spent a lot of time trying to reconnect with the playful piece of me and being unapologetically weird and silly. I used to judge myself for it for so long. And I’ve been judged for it for so long. It made me so depressed. I just need to be myself.”
Take, for example, their bonus track from the Pest EP titled “The Experiment.”
The last few lyrics read:
“I’m a fish I’m a cow I’m a man I’m a plow I’m a dog I’m a log planet crocodile adult child
I’m a particle but I’m also a wave
Like you and me are apart but the same
I’m here and I’m there and it drives me insane”
Like Gabi, these words are unapologetically weird and silly on the surface. Below, a yearning to understand one’s singular self existing in a so-not-singular world.
Much of Gabi’s work draws inspiration from science. “The Experiment” particularly references the double-slit experiment, first conducted by physicist Thomas Young in 1801. This experiment revealed the dual nature of light and matter—they can behave both as particles and as waves, depending on how they’re observed. Young’s findings challenged traditional understandings of reality and perception, suggesting that observation itself can alter outcomes.
I ask where this fascination with science comes from. Gabi says, “I’m really interested in unanswerable questions. And science can explain—well, I was gonna say most things, but actually, I feel like there’s more it can’t explain than it can. I’m really interested in religion, psychedelic experiences, and all of that type of stuff. I’m just really into it because I’m a crazy thinker—I’m always on, always thinking. I think myself into these holes all the time. It just really intrigues me. And my dad’s a physicist, so I just kind of grew up with him explaining shit to me all the time.”
Do you think it’s a way out of the hole, I ask?
“Well, it is definitely a way out of it. Because when I’m ingesting information, I’m less in my head. It helps me connect the dots a little more and be more out of my head. But sometimes you know…like the slit experiment..it’s a spiral.”
In the spirit of scientific inquiry, their music seems to ask: “Is there a limit to what I can be?” Daffo stretches out its legs and lays down in the vastness of paradox. And for Gabi, it can be hard to get back up.
But in an effort to get back up, their latest single “Get a Life” produced by Rob Schnapf, who co-produced Elliot Smith’s Either/Or, strays away from the scientific spiral.
The chorus:
“Slow down
If you look where you’re going, you might
Get a life
Full with every bite”
The song is optimistic—the product of a positive collaboration.
“Working with Rob is a dream come true.” Gabi smiles. “I feel like there’s a lot more me in the songs. The process is so laid back and we take our time with it so we really get to marinate on things. I just feel like I’m more in touch with myself on this project I’m working on right now”
Daffo also recently collaborated with Searows, the indie-folk project of Alec Duckart, to create an alternative version of “Poor Madeline” of the Pest EP, produced by Phillip Weinrobe.
“It’s actually fucking insane working with Phillip Weinrobe and Rob Schnapf in the same year. Phillip Weinrobe did the Searows collaboration and he does all of the Adrianne Lenker solo stuff. Adrianne Lenker and Elliot Smith are my two favorite songwriters of all time. Working with their producers is insane to me.”
This new version features gentle piano, sighing strings, and tight vocal harmonies. “Poor Madeline” prompted my next question about the role of imagery in writing lyrics.
Gabi responds, “I feel like it’s more accessible to give a bunch of imagery than it is to say “I feel sad.” Of course someone else has felt sad before but if you can put that person in that spot—they can feel it for themselves. It’s more accessible even. The specificity is actually more broad.”
“Rolled her eyes at the room
Wouldn’t last, she assumed
Screw the room”
We don’t know who she is, what room she’s in, or why it wouldn’t last, but we still feel the sting of her eye roll, the bite of her snark, and the bitterness of being constantly let down. It makes you want to join Madeline in screwing the room.
At this point we were back in the green room; the gnocchi was gone and the band was getting ready.
To wrap things up I ask what else they like to do other than make music and perform.“I do tattoos. Most of the tattoos I have on my body are stuff I’ve done for myself. I really like to knit. I like to laugh and hang out with my friends. I love that answer. I’m trying to think if there’s anything else. Oh, I do pole dancing.”
Showtime!
With a few backward flicks of the unruly guitar cable, Gabi took control and the whole band assumed their position. From their unreleased song “Go Fetch” they coyly sung:
“Here boy!
Drop it!
Good boy!
Fetch it!”
The crowd: barking, tails wagging, panting, drooling. Gabi hurled balls of energy at the audience with thrusts of their many guitars, the crowd happily fetching and nudging the retrieved ball of energy back onto the lip of the stage. The Bowery Ballroom buzzed with a silent “again, again!”
The indiscernible chord changes on the guitar were constantly moving, and with an up-and-down caressing of the neck, the audience was pulled forward and back; forward and back. As we fell into this oscillatory flow, Gabi and Wyatt fell into each other, feeding off the happy synergy they were creating. The dust didn’t settle until the end of the set.
Gabi says that they are very bad at explaining how they feel in regular words. This may be true. But I’ll take an emotional gut punch over regular words any day—just as I’ll take a gnocchi jog over a formal interview. Why? Because these things don’t leave you. Daffo can’t help but to release the irregular into the atmosphere through haunting melodies, vocal cries, and broad specificity. In particles and in waves—they put us into that spot.