The original Then & Now: Twilight Zone article was published October 5, 2011 and was second in the web series originally developed for The GridTO.com. As the Then & Now series expanded in reach, so too did the length of each story and number of participants who contributed to each. This expanded history of the Zone was written in March 2015, and was exclusively available in the Then & Now book until this time.

Trailblazing 1980s nightclub Twilight Zone brought diverse crowds and sounds to Toronto’s Entertainment District long before such a designation even existed. Those who were there lovingly explore its lasting legacy.

By: DENISE BENSON

Club: Twilight Zone, 185 Richmond Street W.

Years in operation: 1980 – 1989

History: Long before the Entertainment District was awash in condos, clubs, and restaurants—back when the area was still largely non-residential and known as the garment district—four brothers opened a venue that ultimately influenced the neighbourhood’s development.

Tony, Albert, David, and Michael Assoon forever altered Toronto’s dance club nightscape with their Twilight Zone, but that venue’s reach was rooted in earlier efforts. The Assoon family moved from New York to Toronto in the 1970s. During their high school years in Scarborough, the music-savvy siblings produced events in school spaces.

“That was back in the day, when Soul Train was on, and we wanted to have something that was more in our culture,” describes Tony Assoon. “We decided to have the first soul party ever in Toronto. It was funk music, a little bit of disco, and so forth. That’s how we started.”

Assoon says they produced a few successful parties, and the idea spread to other high schools before the brothers all graduated. Tony moved back to New York during the height of the disco days.

“I was a club hound,” he laughs during our lengthy conversation. “I went to all kinds of places, like the Commodore Hotel, Night Owl, The Great Gatsby, Paradise Garage, The Loft, and Milky Way.

“One of the clubs that I hung out at a lot, that really influenced me, was called Melons. It was on the top floor of a loft and was a roller skating rink in the daytime. A legendary DJ called Tee Scott played there. Later, Larry Levan and Frankie Knuckles also played.”

Assoon brought his knowledge and love of New York clubs, style, and music with him when his parents requested that he return to Toronto. He mentions checking our ’70s disco hotspots like Heavens, Checkers, and Mrs. Nights, but landing a job at the Yonge and Bloor Le Chateau clothing store, conveniently located next to a modeling agency, connected him with a different crowd.

“We all loved fashion,” says Tony. “At that time, the whole new wave look was in so we’d dress freaky.”

The Assoons began to do parties at places like The Ports, on Yonge near Summerhill, and in a building on Sherbourne.

“They were great promoters,” says friend Charmaine Gooden of the brothers. She first met them at The Ports, then spent lots of time listening to music with the Assoons and other friends, and attended their early events.

“They started renting rec rooms in apartment buildings to have parties. These were well attended by a diverse, mixed-up crowd—older, younger, money, and fashion. Part of the fun was dressing up. [People came] from Forest Hill, Regent Park, the suburbs, and Scar- borough, so it was varied.”

Through the apartment parties, the Assoons built a solid following and set out to find larger, more secluded spaces.

“We first experimented at 666 King West in September of 1979,” recalls Albert Assoon. “We had to move from there quickly because dust started pouring out of the ceiling from the vibration of the bass. We went on the prowl and eventually wound up at 185 Richmond West. We sought these locations because they were in areas where we wouldn’t get noise complaints or disturb residents.”

“It was desolate,” says Tony of the Richmond and Simcoe area where the Assoons, along with close friends Bromely Vassell and Luis Collaco, launched the Twilight Zone in January of 1980. “It was just industry and factory buildings. Everyone thought we were kind of crazy for moving there, and into a warehouse, but I was used to seeing things like that in New York, so it didn’t seem to be a big deal.”

Soon, crowds would come from far and wide to attend this magical late-night place where the mix of people was as eclectic as the music they were treated to.

David Assoon at the Zone entry. Photo by Theodora Kali.

Why it was important: Twilight Zone was an unlicensed after-hours club where the Assoons could let their imaginations run free. The 8,000-square-foot space held more than 1,000 people. It was a rectangular room with a huge wooden dance floor, juice bar, unisex washrooms, and a side lounge for chilling. Tall dark pillars lined the main space.

“You went up three flights of narrow, rickety wooden stairs to the ticket booth and then into a massive room, which was all black,” describes Gooden. “Everything was black. Period. I remember painting a woman morphing into a stiletto on the wall in the lounge area; the whole space was a kind of canvas for creatives. Those guys would let you try out your ideas.”

Twilight Zone was a hub for creative people and colliding influences. Where most other dance clubs tended to be known for a particular sound, the Zone embraced the electrifying collage that was the 1980s. Local and international DJs played disco, funk, punk, electro, hip-hop, new wave, house, and more over the years. There was very little division between sounds that emerged from distinctly different undergrounds.

“You could be playing house and drop in a new wave song; people were right into it,” reminds Tony Assoon. “It almost all started during the same era.”

Twilight Zone regulars dancing. Still from Back to the Zone, courtesy of Colm Hogan.

At Twilight Zone, it could all be heard through a stunning soundsystem. From the club’s start, sound was important. A system rented from Sunshine Sound kicked things off nicely, but it was in the Zone’s second year that a state-of-the-art soundsystem designed by New York’s Richard Long was installed.

“I was used to hearing a certain kind of sound in New York,” explains Tony Assoon of the impetus. “The thing that couldn’t be reproduced was a certain kind of bass. I took my brothers to Paradise Garage, and my brother Michael partied with me a lot at Melons. I told them, ‘Remember that soundsystem? I know the guy and want to put the same system in here.’ They told me to get a price; I think it was about $100,000 U.S. It was a lot of money. At first my brothers said, ‘No, it’s too much,’ but I insisted. We had to close the club for two weeks, and it took a lot of work. We had to spray and insulate the club, and then they got all the speakers and put everything in.

“When we re-opened, it was slow. All the guys looked at me, like, ‘You and your big ideas.’ I said, ‘Give it some time.’ The first group of people came in, heard the system, and didn’t know what to think. The next week, the crowd doubled because everyone started buzzing about the sound. After that, it was all history. People couldn’t believe what they were hearing.”

“When they put in the Richard Long system, the Zone changed forever,” states DJ Dave Campbell, a Zone regular from the time he was a teen. “The bass could regulate your heartbeat, and because the floor was wood, you couldn’t help but dance.

“You could hear the sound from University and Richmond,” Campbell adds. “People would ask, ‘Where is Twilight located?’ I would tell them, ‘Head west of University on Richmond, look for the amber flashing light, and listen.’”

“The sound was like a dream,” agrees Gooden. “Once you’ve listened to music on those amazing speakers, no one can fool you.”

Sound designer Richard Long (left) with associate Roger Goodman. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

At its core, Twilight Zone was about the music played through that bumping system by its adventurous resident DJs. Weekend nights were divergent yet complementary.

Don Cochrane held down Fridays for most of the Zone’s existence. He first attended the club just weeks after it had opened. Cochrane and a large group of friends “outnumbered the people there” but enjoyed the funky grooves of DJ Albert Assoon. Cochrane and Assoon talked tunes.

“We agreed to meet mid-week for him to hear my UK dance sounds,” says Scottish-born Cochrane. “He and his brothers listened. I got an immediate offer to play the following Friday.”

UK Dance Floor ran Fridays from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. or later, with Cochrane blending new wave and other dancefloor-friendly sounds then-bubbling in the UK with funk, Chicago house, Italo house, German industrial, world beat, and “wild cards.”

Cochrane’s playlist of anthems included the likes of Endgames “First Last for Everything,” Kate Bush “Running Up That Hill,” Bobby Konders “House Rhythms,” Blondie “Rapture,” Bohannan “Let’s Start the Dance,” Jimmy Bo Horne “Spank,” Rocker’s Revenge “Walking on Sunshine,” A Guy Called Gerald “Voodoo Ray,” Liquid Liquid “Cavern,” and “anything James Brown, George Clinton, or Funkadelic.”

He also, of course, featured a hefty dose of UK acts like The Smiths, New Order, Depeche Mode, Talk Talk, Human League, and Bronski Beat, but broke ground when he played them.

“They were ‘retail’ hits, but we had them first—by months, sometimes even a year—as I had them imported,” Cochrane emphasizes. “I did the same for the German industrial dance bands such as Nitzer Ebb. CFNY would come to the booth and monitor my playlist. I got a great kick out of breaking new records—and even sounds.”

“Fridays were the big alternative dance night,” confirms Albert Assoon. “UK Dance Floor featured the new wave you would hear on CFNY, however you heard it first at Twilight Zone. Don was pretty ahead of the music trends abroad and delivered on the dance floor. He would also come party on Saturdays and pick songs he’d then incorporate, giving Fridays more edge than anywhere!

“On Saturdays, the combination of myself and brother Tony was also pretty awesome,” Albert states. “Tony, who had returned to NYC as a teen, came back and would school us all on underground disco. He knew his music and screaming divas very well, and mesmerized the dancefloor with a cappellas on top of stuff. I observed Tony and Don, and came up with my own style, playing mostly funk, freestyle, a bit of new wave, and more.”

Tony mentions a few of his Saturday Zone classics, including D-Train “You’re the One For Me,” First Choice featuring Rochelle Fleming “Let No Man Put Asunder,” and Fonda Rae “Touch Me,” but also makes clear that reggae, early hip-hop, and all sorts of sounds were in the mix.

“We loved playing it all,” Tony emphasizes. “Human League, Thompson Twins, and all the other English groups you could think of were a given. You weren’t a DJ unless you played all of those.”

“I loved it when Albert or Tony would rush up to the booth on Fridays and say, ‘What the fuck is that?’” says Cochrane of the musical interplay. “I would do the same on Saturdays. It was such a mutually beneficial environment that manifested a unique global sound on both nights.

“The Assoons were bold, true to their vision, honest, and pioneers,” he praises. “They were a tight family, and a family who embraced me. Also, [Tony and Albert were] two brilliant DJs.”

Thanks to the Assoons’ vision, the Zone is fondly remembered as Toronto’s first home of garage and house, especially as the music’s bricklayers became imported guests.

David Morales (L) and Tony Assoon in the Zone DJ booth. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

David Morales (L) and Dave Del Du Valle a.k.a. David Delvalle. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

“Twilight Zone started off the tradition of bringing international DJs on Saturdays, beginning with DJ Kenny Carpenter, David Morales, Frankie Knuckles, Dave ‘Madness’ Du Valle—all from NYC—and Jay Armstrong from Ministry in the UK,” says Albert. “All the DJs offered a different sound and melted the crowd.”

These connections were largely fostered as Tony Assoon bounced back to New York often to buy music, go to clubs, and hear DJs.

“I was always the type of guy that if I heard a DJ and they sounded good, I’d say, ‘Hey, how would you like to play?’ In those days, DJs were hungry. They would jump to come to Canada.”

Kenny Carpenter was one of the first booked, followed by DJ/producer Johnny Dynell of NYC clubs like Danceteria, The Roxy, and Save the Robots. Dynell suggested the Assoons book a then-up-and-comer named David Morales, which led to repeat visits by the Def Mix master. Morales and Du Valle were frequent guests, sometimes even spinning together, as was Frankie Knuckles. Detroit’s Derrick May and Alton Miller often made the drive to party at the Zone, and both played on occasion.

“Derrick May played a couple of times, but he was a little too advanced,” recalls Tony. “Derrick was playing and making techno long before people knew what techno was.”

Without a doubt, the music heard at Twilight Zone influenced a generation of Toronto house DJs and producers, not to mention a whole host of warehouse party promoters. People like Aki Abe, Dino & Terry, Mitch Winthrop, Yogi Patel, and Nick Holder were regulars.

“Nick lived by the DJ booth,” says Tony of Holder, one of Toronto’s global house ambassadors. “The Zone was a big influence on him because he saw David Morales, Frankie Knuckles, and so on. I think he played a couple of times. Dave Campbell also got put on every now and then.”

Campbell may have DJed at the Zone in the club’s later years, but it took some doing for him and a group of high school friends to pass through its doors. Saturday nights were so busy that staff was selective.

“We were turned away the first few times we attempted to get into the club,” Campbell shares. “We didn’t quite meet the standards of Saturday’s cool, fashion-conscious clientele, so we decided to go on a Friday, as they weren’t as strict at the door. At the time, I was into new wave music and loved CFNY. Some of the music played on Fridays would cross over to Saturdays, like Yazoo, Fad Gadget, Yello, and other tracks, along with the pre-house anthems. We got to know some of the staff, like Bromely at the door, and were finally able to get in on a Saturday.”

Flash-forward a few years, and Campbell had moved downtown, begun to DJ, and was invited to fill in for Tony on occasion.

“The first Saturday night I played, I was very nervous, but it turned out to be one of the most amazing nights of my DJing career. It was surreal playing on that system. It had three turntables, a pitchable cassette player, and a reel-to-reel. When Frankie Knuckles played, he used the reel player to blend in his own special mixes of stuff he produced, like his mix of Chaka Khan’s ‘Ain’t Nobody.’ David Morales used it to play his mix of Whitney Houston’s ‘Love Will Save The Day.’ Dave Du Valle seamlessly worked all three decks at once. He was amazing.

“But what made the Zone so amazing to me, besides the music, was the eclectic mix of people, with white, black, gay, and straight all partying in one space,” says Campbell. “It was like nothing I had experienced before, including the unisex bathroom.”

Twilight Zone was the place to be, with large, diverse, and creative crowds dancing ’til dawn week after week.

Gooden, who attended regularly for most of the club’s nine-year history (“Always from after 2 a.m. ’til close”), encapsulates the experience. “It was the kind of place that was so overwhelming, a kind of free style, with people dancing all over the place. It gave waspy, stuffy, uptight Torontonians a release valve where people could just be bohemian and extravagant.

“The Zone was a mix of black, white, Asian, old, young, hipster, fashion-trendy, new wavers, break dancers, young punks, skinheads, and Scarborough secretaries in their outfits. You had the Scarborough blacks, Charles and Church Street gays, Queen West alternatives, and people from Whitby to Etobicoke. Those years at the Twilight Zone were like a cauldron with all the people who got mashed together.”

“It was a weird era when everyone got along,” comments Tony. “All the people who listened to house music started showing up on the new wave nights, so you’d see somebody in a suit dancing next to somebody with a Mohawk or somebody who was a skinhead. Half of those kids didn’t even know why they were wearing Nazi flags in the back. They’d be dancing with everybody; if they were that prejudiced, they wouldn’t have been there, dancing beside somebody black or somebody Jewish or gay. Everything was more for fashion than it was for a reason.”

“It was unique and without aggro,” agrees Cochrane; “They came for the music.” This was also true on Pariah Wednesdays, which ran in the early through mid-’80s.

“Wednesdays were more underground,” describes Tony; “Pariah catered to the more punk kind of crowd.”

Pariah had its roots in the downtown arts and music scene. Toronto club veteran Lynn McNeil had launched the night with DJ Siobhan O’Flynn at Club Kongos (later Club Focus) on Hagerman Street. The two met when O’Flynn DJed in The Rivoli’s back room for L Squared, an influential event promoted by The Katherine with DJs Richard Vermeulen and Pam Barnes. (“To my knowledge, Pam was the first woman DJ in Toronto, and I was the second,” says O’Flynn.)

After about a year at Kongos, Pariah moved to Wednesdays at Twilight Zone, with O’Flynn joined by DJ Stephen Scott.

“Coming out of Hagerman, the music at Pariah was a mix of punk, disco, old funk, and the start of the early ’80s Brit scene,” she describes. “We played The Fall, Wire, early Stone Roses, and American punk and post punk, like Television.

“Pariah would have been the first place I played Sisters of Mercy ‘Gimme Shelter.’ I still re- member that song on that soundsystem was damn impressive. It was just so immersive to experience vinyl records played on such a stupendous soundsystem. You just felt it. Being able to listen to PIL, Joy Division, and the big orchestral Sisters of Mercy sound in a room with perfectly EQ’d sound was incredible.”

Hundreds came out between 10 p.m. and 5 a.m. each Wednesday. “You had to be pretty committed,” comments O’Flynn; “You weren’t holding down a job that you had to be at at nine in the morning. Pariah started with a very strong foot in the emerging counter-culture punk scene. There was also a whole group of underage alternative school kids. The club scene or bar scene was just starting to take off, so we’d get that after-hours crowd, and Goths.

“Broadly, it was hungry alternative music fans, which is why people were so open to really diverse genres of music. I know that a lot of people came to the club specifically to be introduced to new music. Both Stephen and I were avid consumers of tracking what was new, reading NME [New Musical Express], and buying imports.”

In addition, O’Flynn redecorated Twilight Zone’s interior every few months (“I’d source out non-flammable materials that you could have in environments where people were behaving chaotically”), and booked in local indie bands of the time, like Change of Heart and Groovy Religion.

“There really weren’t that many places you could go out and hear the music we featured,” recalls O’Flynn. “For the Assoons to let us have our night in their club was always kind of amazing.”

Twilight Zone interior. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

Who else played/worked there: “I love that for a lot of high school kids, the Zone was their first memory of a club,” says Tony. “We’d open up early for them, and then close. They’d want to stay, but we had to say, ‘No, you’re not 16.’ We were all-ages, but you had to be 16 to stay after hours.”

One night that stands out for its early-evening crowds was when the Assoons brought New York’s Dynamic Breakdancers in for a show.

“That was around the time that Herbie Hancock came out with ‘Rockit’,” Tony recollects. “We packed that club from six in the evening until 1 a.m.. They did maybe four shows. People just kept coming; they wanted to see what this breakdancing was all about.”

Further proving the brothers had their fingers on the pulse of multiple musical movements, the Zone also featured performances by artists as diverse as D-Train, Divine, Sharon Redd, Joycelyn Brown, Jermaine Stewart, Prince Charles, Anne Clark, The Spoons, and The System.

“One year, we had an anniversary party without any acts booked,” adds Tony. “I happened to see Eartha Kitt crossing the street and called out, ‘Eartha Kitt?’ She said, ‘That’s me.’ I said, ‘I would love for you to come and sing. We have no act tonight. Tell me what you want, and we’ll work something out.’ Her response was, ‘I want two things: a cold bottle of champagne and a champagne glass.’ She came on stage, sang ‘Where Is My Man,’ and had so much class. Amazing.”

Fashion Show at Twilight Zone. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

Albert recalls a visit by a certain New York hip-hop trio. “We had the Beastie Boys in. They went on a rampage and graffitied the club. We had just sanded the area and it wasn’t painted, so we decided to leave it as part of the decor.”

O’Flynn also remembers that eve, and laughs as she shares an anecdote. “It was probably 1982 and the Beastie Boys were at the club. They wanted to spin, and I said no. I kicked them out of the DJ booth. To this day, I can’t believe I did that.” (Post Pariah, she went on to play plenty of speaks and clubs, including Domino, Dance Cave, RPM, Nuts & Bolts, the Bovine, Phoenix, and Left Bank. O’Flynn is now a professor and consultant who teaches digital media at the University of Toronto.)

A variety of other DJs spent time in Twilight Zone’s DJ booth over the years.

“The Zone’s music was unique,” summarizes DJ and radio producer Scot Turner, who went by Skot during his eight years as a programmer and host at pioneering alternative radio station CFNY 102.1FM. He went to the Zone often enough to appreciate its musical mix, and to support it with on-air mentions.

“Their reputation was for house music, but also for their openness to alternative, which they were not afraid to embrace and showcase. Anyone with a love of dance music and vibe was welcome.”

Turner, in fact, DJed a Thursday night called Swoon for a short stretch. “The music format was intentionally non-bass and beat, with lots of jangly guitar. It was art rock and pop—The Smiths, Cure, REM, Violent Femmes, Prefab Sprout, Lloyd Cole, and the like.“

Skot / Scot Turner at Twilight Zone. Photo courtesy of him.

Turner also DJed at venues like Club Z, Club Focus, Empire Dancebar, RPM, and Joker over the years, and would go on to help launch Energy 108 (“The first true all-dance music station in North America”). He appreciated Twilight Zone for many reasons.

“It was bare bones, but the soundsystem was first rate. It was what proper club sound should be: very loud, without hurting your ears, and with bass that you feel in your chest. It was not licensed, so the music came first. Without the distractions of alcohol and ‘picking up,’ it attracted a more purist music crowd. (Turner is now Brand Director for two Kitchener radio stations and contributes to The Spirit Of Radio web page at Edge.ca.)

There were also attempts made to have a dedicated gay Sunday, with DJs such as Barry Harris, Paul Grace, and Stages’ resident Greg Howlett. Tony admits it never took off, and the reason he provides is a reminder of the division that existed even in more tolerant and mixed spaces.

“When AIDS happened, that made a huge difference in who would go where. People started thinking in stereotypes, and stuff like, ‘If I touch somebody gay, I’m going to get AIDS.’ People could be very discriminatory. Meanwhile, I was still going to gay bars, trying to book DJs. I went to a gay club—The Roxy—to book Frankie Knuckles. I had so many friends who were gay that I didn’t pay that kind of stuff attention. I really wanted that crowd to be part of my crowd. Nobody enjoys music more than a gay crowd; those were the guys who brought satisfaction to my turntables.”

While the Sundays never came together, there’s no question that communities did on other nights at the Zone. Throughout the club’s history, artists, performers, and the fashion-forward were a part of its core crowd. Actors and hockey players were also in the mix.

“Patrick Cox, the designer, came there a lot,” says Tony. “So did Wayne Gretzky, Mario Van Peebles, and Grandmaster Flash.”

“At The Twilight Zone, you had Kenneth Cole, Suzanne Boyd, Michael Griffiths, the Soho designers, Dean and Dan of Dsquared, and other local artists who were regulars,” adds Albert. “Many greats met up and fully expressed themselves with their look and attitudes!”

The highly fashionable Charmaine Gooden also mentions many fellow regulars. “Donna Boyd was a presence; when she danced, it was like there was a spotlight on her. She held her body, singing, acting, and living out the song. She was just so glamorous and had a smouldering personality. We gave some of our favourite regulars nicknames: There was Richard ‘National Ballet,’ Suzie Horton was ‘Jacket and Panty Hose,’ Tony and Basil Young were like the Nicholas Brothers. Ronald Holmes, who worked the bar, was from New York and a one-man dance squad. People gathered around him to learn his particular style.

“Some people never went to church, but they were at the Zone every Sunday morning,” elucidates Gooden. “For some, it was a spiritual experience. The music on Saturday was also very based in gospel.”

Fashion Show at Twilight Zone. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

Zone regulars at a costume party. Photo courtesy of Albert Assoon.

The aforementioned Tony Young, later known as MuchMusic host Master T, was frequently found on the dance floor, as was Michele Geister, who co-founded and produced MuchMusic’s RapCity program. Photographer Michael Chambers was another regular, as was Tom Davis, who later booked the Cameron House and now owns The Stockyards restaurant. Others mentioned by interviewees include Lyndon Hector; Norbert Ricafort; Ford Medina; Marla Rotenberg; makeup artist Danny Morrow; clothing designer Ian Hylton; Raymond Perkins, who ran The Dub Club at the time and went on to work as Director of Culture at Roots; and Aaron Serruya, who produced his first party at Twilight Zone and is now co-owner of both Yogen Früz and Red Nightclub. Darryl Fine, now co-owner of the Bovine, was a regular who sometimes tended bar.

There were a lot of dedicated staffers. Some include original Zone investors Luis Collaco and Bromley Vassell, who went on to do lights and door, respectively. Gerald Ash and Lino Santos were core bussers for years, while Chris Arthur worked the door and more. Dave Campbell also mentions host Ted Aman, and Lisa McCleary, who worked in the Night Gallery, below Twilight Zone.

“We took over space on the ground floor and opened a café called Night Gallery in 1984,” explains Albert. “We offered a free buffet with the $10 admission, and it was generous. I swear some people came just to eat.”

The Assoons’ father was the main Night Gallery chef. Sometimes there was music in that space as well.

“Twilight Zone was my first official club gig,” says Derek Perkins, who took over Fridays after Don Cochrane left to pursue his career at Ogilvy One in 1987 (Cochrane shares that he went on to launch the Air Miles program and now works in the airline industry).

Perkins “started playing alt and classic rock downstairs in the Night Gallery. At that time, there was no alt format on any nights upstairs. Within two to three weeks, the room reached capacity and the Assoons gave me Friday night in the Zone.”

Other DJs who played occasional Fridays included Larry St. Aubin (aka Larry Saint), Ivan Palmer, Michael X, Avery Tanner, and James Stewart, but Perkins was the main resident. Fridays became known as The Darkside. Perkins also came to play on Wednesdays.

“Prior to working there, I was a huge fan of Pariah and of DJ Siobhan,” he credits. “She was a huge influence on the style I later adopted, mixing classic rock and funk with alternative.”

He namedrops personal anthems by the likes of Patti Smith, Aerosmith, Love and Rockets, Felt, and The Demics, but he also “included artists such as Boney M, Blondie, Man Parrish, Grandmaster Flash, George Kranz, and other beat-centric stuff so some of the dance crowd would stay. They mixed in pretty well with the freakier late-nighters.”

Perkins also shares a vivid, sensorial memory.

“There was a smell like no other place I’ve ever encountered. The best I can figure is that it was a mix of French Formula hairspray, cologne, perfume, hashish, coco puffs, coconut fog fluid, stale booze, and bathroom odour. It was an oddly intoxicating smell.”

He was the last alt DJ to play at the Zone and was there until the club’s demise.

“The crowds would go up and down as more competition came to the area, but there were almost always enough people to make it viable,” says Perkins, who went on to play clubs including Nuts & Bolts, Freak Show, Empire, The Copa, Whiskey Saigon, Klub Max, and Zoo Bar. (He then ran creative departments for multiple radio stations, and now markets luxury real estate.)

What happened to it: “Near the end of the Zone’s run, the crowd had become younger,” says Dave Campbell. “It seemed that the sanctuary had changed. There was no more Celestial Choir ‘Stand On The Word’ or Lonnie Liston Smith ‘Expansions’ played as the Sunday morning sunlight came through the window. We had lost our church.” (Campbell went on to play a range of clubs, including The Copa, The Diamond, and Roxy Blu. He now runs his own DJing service, is the Friday resident at The Citizen on King West, and plays parties including What It Is! and Twilight Zone reunions.)

The Zone’s crowds may have shifted in its final years, but they still filled the club. The venue closed in early 1989 because the Assoons’ lease had expired and the building’s owner sold the property. It became a parking lot.

“We would have bought the building,” says Albert; “However, despite our successes, the banks would never finance us with anything—except the one time my father put up his house for us to buy Twilight Zone’s soundsystem. We had to sign a waiver where our unborn children would have to pay if we defaulted. That loan was paid on time and in full, but they would not agree with our vision.”

Twilight Zone came to a close soon after a February party that featured David Morales. People still speak of the club—and the communities it brought together—with deep appreciation.

“The Zone was like a club in the real sense; everybody felt they were part of the club,” says Gooden. “When you saw an ex-Zoner elsewhere, you had a connection. To this day, Zoners are still a sub culture.” (She is now a magazine editor and Professor in the School of Fashion at both Ryerson University and Seneca College.)

The Assoons—also the visionaries who, in 1984, thought to open Fresh Restaurant and Nightclub at 132 Queens Quay E., which was ousted a year later to make way for RPM (The Guvernment later held the address)—went on to open Gotham City Bar and Grill at 81 Bloor St. E. in 1990. Rent was too high for them to make a long term go of it.

Albert and Michael Assoon went on to be deeply involved in late ’90s house haven The Living Room, while Tony moved back to NYC, where he continues to enjoy clubs and music, and works for New York Life. Albert, Michael, and David Assoon now own versatile event space Remix Lounge at 1305 Dundas West.

After more than 20 years of existence as a parking lot, the ground where Twilight Zone once stood has been swallowed into the 199 Richmond West address of the Studio on Richmond condo build. Filmmaker Colm Hogan is at work on Back 2 The Zone, a detailed documentary about the club and its widespread influence.

Thank you to participants: Albert Assoon, Charmaine E. Gooden, Dave Campbell, Derek Perkins, Don Cochrane, Scot Turner, Siobhan O’Flynn, and Tony Assoon, as well as to Colm Hogan, Darryl Fine, and Theodora Kali.

The post Then & Now: TWILIGHT ZONE (extended mix) appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published March 30, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

A look back at the ‘80s east-end haunt that imported U.K. rave culture to Toronto, let dancers openly shag on the third floor, and gave a young Gerard Butler his first gig as a doorman.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Tazmanian Ballroom, 99-101 Jarvis

Years in operation: 1987-1990

History: Just as true characters have frequented Toronto’s most memorable nightclubs, they’ve owned them as well. Few have been as influential, audacious, or fanciful as nightlife impresario and restaurateur Johnny Katsuras. Since the late 1970s, the man better known as Johnny K has owned and operated a wide variety of thematic hot spots—often with wife, business partner, and chef Laura Prentice—in areas just off the beaten path, with a lean towards the city’s east end.

In the second half of 1987, Katsuras followed on the success of his establishments—including his long-running, self-titled resto and surprisingly successful Beaches dance bar Krush—by turning attention to Jarvis and Richmond. Here, in an area filled with historic, often underused commercial buildings, Johnny K purchased a three-floor heritage property built in 1898, once known as MacFarlane’s Hotel. It had previously operated as The Jarvis House and then gay bar Club 101 by the Chrysalis Group, also owners of Yorkville mega-club The Copa.

Ever the rebel, Johnny K chose to offer his crowd something closer to downtown, but more seedy than trendy. He’s always been careful to cultivate a sense of adventure and to purchase real estate accordingly.

“Downtown properties are generally filled by people who follow each other, and I never wanted to do that,” says Katsuras today. “My goal was to find empty buildings that I could put a restaurant-club in, because the kind of business that I like to do is not ‘Oh, look at that place—let’s walk in there and eat.’ No. My places are more about ‘I’m not going in there; that doesn’t look right.’ Unless you know. My signage has always been intended to keep people out, not bring them in.”

Inside the Taz. Photos courtesy of David Prentice.

There was no real sign for Tazmanian Ballroom; you found the place by looking for the crowds gathered out front. Inside, hundreds partied on a main floor that had a 1920s-meets-’70s cocktail vibe, complete with black-and-gold paint, velvet curtains, vintage sofas, dimmed chandeliers, and a huge aquarium. The basement level was even darker.

“The Ballroom was free of bells and whistles,” says Johnny K. “It was a nightclub with no light show. It was like a big, old Victorian-mansion house party. I have to admit: part of my inspiration was that I had read about Nell’s in New York and, also, I was a big fan of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, so a lot of the Ballroom was based on it.”

“The main level set the standard for most lounge clubs of today,” says Mark Oliver, who began his career at the Taz on his way to becoming one of Canada’s top DJs.

“The basement was a different vibe altogether,” Oliver adds. “Able to hold perhaps 200, it had a low ceiling, minimal lighting, bass-rattling turbo sound system and lots of bathroom mischief. If the main level was an opulent castle, the basement was certainly its dungeon.”

Advertisement, courtesy of Malcolm Brown.

Why it was important: Tazmanian Ballroom drew a young, beautiful and very fashion-conscious crowd. They were there because of Johnny K’s mix of creativity and cockiness, and his ability to hire talented people who he encouraged to run with their ideas.

“Johnny K was arguably the most charismatic club owner this city has ever seen,” says Oliver, who’d worked as a bus boy at Krush before helping renovate the Ballroom where he would bartend and, eventually, become a star resident DJ.

“Johnny assembled the most eclectic staff I have ever worked with, and he really wasn’t interested in making money off the club. He’d rather have five of the right people in the club than 500 spending money. He was there to have a good time, and this attitude was infectious.”

Put in charge of implementing Johnny K’s vision was David Prentice, Laura’s brother and Katsuras’ right-hand-man. By 24, David had run the rock department at Sam The Record Man for years, had a background in advertising and marketing, and was deeply influenced by a stay in London where he was wowed by club DJs mixing deep house, disco and soul. He became Tazmanian Ballroom’s Marketing and Promotions Director and much more.

“Johnny gave me free rein to run the club as I saw fit,” says David. “He was very progressive and aggressive with culture. He’s not a guy who likes to sit down and have meetings. He’s much more ‘Let’s do it.’ I credit John with re-defining the nightlife scene in Toronto—with the help of many people.”

Initially open only Saturdays and for special events, Tazmanian Ballroom attracted large crowds through equal parts programming and exclusivity. At a time when most licensed dance clubs in Toronto—think The Diamond, RPM, The Copa or Big Bop—were sizable and thus required large crowds to stay afloat, the smaller Ballroom took a cue from trendy New York clubs and implemented a stringent door policy.

“It wasn’t a first-come, first-served situation,” says Johnny K. “I spent a lot of time and effort picking the right guys to do the door; they had to understand how to see something in somebody. It wasn’t about expensive clothes; it was about what people chose to wear. You could be a little awkward, but you could still get in because you had something. It was about individualism rather than following the crowd.”

“Guys would roll up in Lamborghinis, be turned away and told they may want to try showing up in a cab the next time,” recalls Oliver. “Some people would try for weeks, trying different outfits and hairstyles just to gain entry. There were no dress-code rules; it was all about having the right mix of people inside.”

“Tazmanian Ballroom was a leading-edge type of scene, with many racially mixed couples, straight and gay,” adds Michele Geister, then a MuchMusic producer who moonlighted in the Ballroom’s DJ booth. “Young professionals mixed with club kids and budding DJs. There was a real unity to the patrons singing and getting down in the house party-like atmosphere that wasn’t duplicated anywhere else in T.Dot.”

Through her work at Much, including as a producer/director of pioneering programs Soul in the City and RapCity, Geister had extensive knowledge of hip-hop, which she mixed at the Ballroom with house, acid, techno, funk and reggae.

She could frequently be found playing alongside good friend Karen Young (sometimes under the handles ForceMG and FunKY). Both were largely influenced by CKLN programs Fantastic Voyage and Dave’s Dance Music, and were dancefloor devotees of the Twilight Zone.

“David Prentice liked our enthusiasm and selections, and offered us a gig in the basement,” Young recalls. “So we co-gigged for a while, then split to play separately. I played Saturday nights, Michele played Friday. Back then, we lugged 50-to-100 pounds of vinyl into a taxi in our lycra miniskirts and high heels.

“Part of the charm of the Taz was that it was not a super-slick club like The Copa or RPM,” says Young, a Ballroom resident for more than a year. “It had terrible DJ booths and if people danced right in front of the booth area, the records would jump. It was more like how a party at your house would be in terms of set-up. The basement was just a dark room with mirrors, a bar and no furniture. It was totally underground, with a little old-school.” [Post publication, Young compiled this selection of sounds she played at the Taz.]

These sounds—coupled with the rare groove, disco, and rock played upstairs by David Prentice and his talented then-girlfriend Heather Lawrence—made the Taz stand out.

“Musically, it was pretty controversial for its time in Toronto,” says Prentice. “It took a couple of months for people to catch onto it. I’ll credit the Assoon brothers and Twilight Zone though, because they were doing everything I’d heard while in London, and John gave me the opportunity to bring all of that to a more commercial venue.”

A new phase began when Mark Oliver moved from bouncing between bartending and DJing upstairs or warming things up in the basement to DJing each weekend.

“I played on the main level at first, as did Heather Lawrence,” says Oliver. “When she was playing, I would tend one of the bars. I was making $500 a night in tips at the bar, but I really only wanted to DJ, even for the going rate of $45 a night. It was the Summer of Love in the UK in 1988, and I felt an incredible urge to spread the love on this side of the pond.

“From that point on, I played house in the basement every Friday and Saturday. The crowd was very diverse, from b-boys to fashionistas. We were jacking to the new acid-house sounds for the first time, so it was very exciting and special.” (For those keeping track, this was well before Oliver would produce raves under the Exodus collective banner or fill the back room of the Cameron with his Acid Jazz Wednesdays.)

Rock & Roll Fag Bar flyer courtesy of Malcolm Brown.

By this point, Tazmanian Ballroom was packed with very different crowds each weekend. Fridays had opened as Rock & Roll Fag Bar early in 1988 when Maxwell Blandford, a former manager at Nuts & Bolts, was lured from his job at The Copa to become the Ballroom’s new promo director.

“I liked the idea of doing a gay night in a straight club as it really was not being done much in Toronto at that time,” says Blandford. “I also thought the music in the Toronto gay scene was so lame and Rock & Roll Fag Bar was a great opportunity to launch something new.”

Although there was initial controversy surrounding its name—complete with CBC coverage and letters of complaint in a local weekly—Rock & Roll Fag Bar was an instant success.

“The night had no glitz, yet it was so fabulous with its boudoir decoration,” Blandford enthuses. “It was two floors, with Heather and David spinning rock and rare groove upstairs while Mark played house downstairs. Rock & Roll Fag Bar had many distinct elements, but music was first and foremost.

Courtesy of Maxwell Blandford

“We also had sex, and loads of it. It started out on Fridays when the customers broke down the door to the third floor. It was a series of abandoned rooms—the venue had been a brothel decades before—and each filled up. There could be 150 guys up there. We put a bar in and gave out condoms.

“As repressive as the liquor laws were at that time, so was sex because of AIDS. So we offered a wild, spontaneous place to have sex and then go back downstairs and dance. Sex on the third floor was not exclusive to the gay night either. It became a very popular place for a quickie on Saturdays too, until we eventually closed the floor.

“Breaking the rules was one of the most significant features of the Taz,” concludes Blandford, now living in Miami and marketing high-end South Beach spots including The Forge. “Johnny was a ‘bad boy’ and attached himself to others. The more different and edgy you were, the better your events.”

“There weren’t a lot of rules at the Taz,” agrees Karen Young. “Upstairs, people would dance on the bar and swing from the ceiling. One time they brought down the sprinkler system. There always seemed to be men in the ladies’ washroom, and a stinky mop closet in the basement was another favourite shagging spot.”

Audacity was a Taz trademark.

“Those considered freaks who were banished from other clubs were encouraged at the Ballroom; the wilder, the better,” says Oliver. “Dallas, a bartender, would blow fire across the length of the bar a few times a night. I remember driving my Vespa around in circles through the club while there were still people dancing.

“A good friend of mine, Gerry from Scotland, was living here at the time, and kept asking me to find him a job. I finally got him in as a doorman. The original doorman, Greg, was nicknamed ‘Hollywood,’ but it was Gerry who went on to become the real Hollywood. He is now more commonly known as Gerard Butler.”

Maxwell Blandford (left) with Towa Tei and Super DJ Dmitri of Deee-Lite, and their tour manager.
Photo courtesy of Blanford.

Who else played/worked there: Special events at the Ballroom included soirees hosted by infamous hair stylist Diva, vogue balls hosted by designers Dean and Dan of dSquared, and early Fetish Nights.

Super DJ Dmitri of Deee-Lite played the opening of Rock & Roll Fag Bar while a handful of early hip-hop artists also performed at the Taz.

“David Prentice loved Spoonie Gee, and brought him to the Ballroom, as he later did Philly rapper Schoolly D and his DJ Code Money,” Geister recalls. “Although both times the turnout wasn’t great, they were legendary, up-close experiences for those in attendance.”

Photo courtesy of Malcolm Brown.

Just as risks were taken in programming, Johnny K invested in other arts endeavours, including as publisher of I.C.E. magazine, a heavily stylized arts, music, and fashion publication distributed for free in Katsuras-owned venues and across much of the country.

Staffed largely by Tazmanian Ballroom employees—with David Prentice as Editor, Blandford as Managing Editor, and Malcolm Brown as Art Director—I.C.E. won design awards and featured early photography by artists including Floria Sigismondi and Lisa Mann.

“We wanted a magazine that reflected our vibe, and there was a market for it,” says Brown, who then also bartended at the Ballroom, as did his brother, photographer Adrian Brown.

“Johnny had a lot of money at that time, and was able to handle the huge expenses that our I.C.E. was amassing. Everyone supplemented the little pay we made at the magazine by working in Johnny’s clubs. By that time, he also had The Claremont Hotel, and King Curtis, Liberty Restaurant, and The 4th and 5th all in the same building as I.C.E. at The Liberty.

“We were all very young and Johnny would let people swim on our own,” says Brown, who went on to design or art direct at magazines including Shift, Raygun, and Outpost. “The more outrageous an idea, the more he would support it. The magazine collapsed as money ran out, but anyone associated with it had a very special experience thanks to Johnny K.”

The I.C.E. staff in the May 27, 1989 edition of the Toronto Sun. Courtesy of Maxwell Blandford.

What happened to it: Tazmanian Ballroom ran for little more than two years, but went out with a bang in early 1990.

“Things were even crazier than usual at the closing party,” says Oliver. “The fire department showed up, and I’ll never forget the looks on their faces when they came in the basement where I was spinning. The ceiling was on the verge of collapse from the mayhem.”

“I remember being at the last night very, very late and being ushered out by firemen who had had declared the building unsafe,” corroborates Geister. “What had been a legendary scene partied right to the end. I’m happy that I was a part of it, and got to experience what I believe were the real golden years of nightclubbing in Toronto.”

She, along with Oliver, Blandford, Young, and much of the Ballroom staff went on to work at various rooms within Johnny K’s nearby Liberty building.

Toronto’s real estate market crashed in 1989, and Johnny K was never one to let decisions linger. He sold the Jarvis building to the Ken Thomson family, who later sold it to Kiosk Furniture. It was boarded up for some time, later used for warehousing and storage, and opened late 2011 as the Toronto location of furniture and design store Poliform.

Johnny K went on to open numerous restaurants and lounges, most notably Mrs. Smith’s Cocktail Party, Lolita’s Lust, and Tomi-Kro, which closed suddenly last October. He and Laura Prentice now operate The Playpen at Gerrard and Carlaw.

David Prentice now lives in St. Catharines with his family, and owns two outposts of the Kilt & Clover pub.

The Taz spirit is carried on in the form of Tazmania Ballroom, a Hong Kong lounge and club opened by Gilbert Yeung, a former regular at the Toronto location.

Postscript: Sadly, Johnny Katsuras passed away following a battle with cancer in late September, 2014. His influence on Toronto’s culinary and nightlife scenes will long be felt.

The post Then & Now: Tazmanian Ballroom appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published March 15, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

Denise Benson looks back at the massive, corporate-owned Yorkville spot that helped create Toronto’s big-ticket nightclub experience in the early 1980s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: The Copa, 21 Scollard

Years in operation: 1984 – 1992  [Original article stated 1983 - 1992]

History: Yorkville dance club and concert venue The Copa made its mark as one of the largest and busiest nightclubs to emerge in early 1980s Toronto. Opened in August 1984, the hotspot was located on the south side of Scollard, in a mixed commercial and residential area.

Its owners, the Chrysalis Group, were no strangers to Yorkville, having already opened trendy restaurants Bemelmans and the Bellair Café nearby. Chrysalis, in particular its CEO Tom Kristenbrun, would also go on to open Toby’s Goodeats and Bistro 990, but Chrysalis Group would make their mark with music as well as food.

“They were rocker guys, tavern guys with long hair from North Bay who came into town with some money and bought The Ports of Call on Yonge Street, the El Mocambo on Spadina and the Jarvis House Tavern,” recalls Arnie Kliger, former owner of Stages Nightclub on Yonge Street, who also worked as assistant manager at The Copa during its first year of operation.

“They were beer and wings guys who had a dream of opening a restaurant after having the bars,” says Kliger.

Chrysalis, while still known as Consortina Inc., made their mark on 1970s Toronto with The El Mo, The Ports and 101 Jarvis, but by the early ‘80s they were hosting celebrities, society types and Toronto Film Festival parties at their Yorkville venues. Opening a mega-club was a logical new feather in their corporate cap.

The Copa may have been corporate-owned, but to place it in context, it was large (legal capacity 1100) and licensed, where most other dance clubs of the time were either unlicensed (Twilight Zone, Club Z, Focus), or licensed and located in hotels or other touristy spots, as with the CN Tower’s Sparkles disco.

The Copa, as observed from the balcony. Photo by Julie Levene, courtesy of Barry Harris.

Why it was important: In this environment, The Copa emerged all shiny and new. Chrysalis spared no expense, installing an incredible and intricate sound system, computerized lighting and lasers, and banks of television monitors on which music videos played. The DJ booth was custom-built and massive, there was a raised stage area in the middle of the narrow, rectangular-shaped room, and an overhanging balcony ran the club’s entire length.

While opinions vary as to whether this balcony added to the party by offering a primo view of the action below or dissipated the club’s energy by its placement, the young, fashionable, heavily uptown crowd packed the place. The Copa, with its 39 bartenders, VIP room and super VIP room (behind closed doors, with its own bathroom and bar), was ready to serve. In order to meet the food-to-liquor-ratio laws of the day, The Copa also had a full-time chef who cooked up the club’s infamous buffet. Opinions on the quality of the food also vary wildly, but numerous Toronto clubbers have told me they went to The Copa in part to eat a full meal.

Open Wednesday through Sunday, the club featured DJs most nights, augmented by live concerts. The Copa—along with The Diamond and, later, RPM—put Toronto on the map as far as licensed venues go, but its music format was a lot more commercial than many dance clubs of the era, especially on Fridays and Saturdays.

Early resident DJs included Terry ‘TK’ Kelly (who later established himself as the DJ at RPM) and Jeff Allan, a dance music DJ who was also an announcer at rock station Q107. Now a morning show host at Kitchener’s 570 News, Allan created extended dance mixes of rock songs during his Copa days, including this one of Glass Tiger’s “Don’t Forget Me When I’m Gone.”

Although bars at that time had to stop serving alcohol at 11 p.m. on Sundays, they were consistently among The Copa’s busiest and most musically adventurous nights. Early on, Sundays were alternative nights DJed by CFNY’s Chris Sheppard and hosted by the station’s equally infamous personalities Earl Jive and Beverly Hills.

When that crew departed to work at RPM—opened by a group that included Martin Arts, The Copa’s original general manager—Sundays morphed into one of Toronto’s first house music weeklies in a licensed club. DJ Barry Harris was hired in the spring of 1986, and thoroughly transformed Sundays during his year-and-a-half residency.

“I originally slid in quite comfortably by playing Ministry, The Cult, Beastie Boys and other CFNYish music, which I enjoyed,” recalls Harris, who had previously DJed at 101 Jarvis. “It was great playing Sunday nights as it was known as ‘alternative night’ and not commercial.

“As the alternative crowd started to discover RPM a few months later, my Sunday night music became more influenced by the Twilight Zone and [CKLN’s pioneering Sunday afternoon program] Dave’s Dance Music. Host Dave Ahmad recommended The Copa to his audience each Sunday and by fall of 1986, the crowd had completely changed. We continued to maintain an average of 1100-1300 people, but it morphed naturally into a house night. House music was really starting to explode in 1986, and soon the crowd would stop dancing and stare me down if I played rock or something like Ministry. They reacted more positively to freestyle artists like The Cover Girls.”

The line at the front door of The Copa. Photo by Julie Levene, courtesy of Barry Harris.

Harris also took on The Copa’s Saturdays for a few months in the summer of 1987, but found the crowd too mainstream for his liking.

“Sunday nights were the best, and my favourite night to play,” he says. “It was a DJ’s dream gig as the audience was magical. They really knew their music and were hungry to hear the latest house. Really, the night kind of became ‘The Twilight Zone part two’ of a weekend; if you wanted more of that sound and spirit, then you came to The Copa on a Sunday. I think the night introduced house music to a lot of people who might not have went to the Zone.”

The Copa and Twilight Zone had another key element in common: fierce, crystal clear sound designed by New York’s Richard Long, known for his systems at clubs including Paradise Garage.

“That system felt very powerful, almost overwhelming at times actually,” Harris recalls. “With an Urei mixer and three floating turntables as well, it could be quite a rush from a DJ’s point of view. The Copa was a large, rectangular warehouse space, but Richard Long thought of everything, including digital delay for speakers placed further away from the stage.”

The Copa DJ booth, with coat check below. Photo by Julie Levene, courtesy of Barry Harris.

Barry Harris with Jimmy Sommerville in The Copa’s massive DJ booth. Photo by Julie Levene, courtesy of Harris.

Harris left The Copa in October 1987 to become the main resident DJ at Charles Khabouth’s Stilife, and later had a massively successful production career, recording as Top Kat, part of Kon Kan and, most notably, Thunderpuss, the duo who crafted smash dance club remixes for pop stars including Whitney Houston, Madonna, and Britney Spears.

The Copa had, by then, also become a house haven on Wednesday nights, thanks to influential promoter Wanda Marcotte and DJ Jason ‘Deko’ Steele. The two had been a core part of The Diamond’s success—Steele was its star resident DJ for five years before defecting to The Copa—but jumped ship after a falling out (Marcotte) and frustration over pay (Steele).

“Wanda was one of my favourite people ever and the reason I went to The Copa,” says Steele. “She was this fucking obnoxious lesbian dressed in black from head to toe, she smoked profusely, wore French braids, and had the most gorgeous lover, Irena Joannides. It wouldn’t be fair at all to do a story about that time and not cover Wanda. She was everything. Wanda was largely responsible for a third or more of the scene, in terms of the progression of house, new wave and the Queen Street art fag kind of crowd in the 1970s. She was an absolute cornerstone who, sadly, died of ovarian cancer about a decade ago.”

Together, they transformed The Copa’s Wednesdays. The crowds went from a few to fifteen hundred as house was added to Deko’s already eclectic mix.

“Really, nobody but Barry Harris and I were playing house music in big, licensed clubs back then,” says Steele. “But I didn’t just play house. I’d also play “Go See the Doctor” by Kool Moe Dee, old Aretha Franklin, some great old disco tracks—basically the roots of house.”

For a period, Steele entertained The Copa’s crowds several nights a week.

“My signature was that I didn’t have one particular sound,” he recalls. “I made sure that everything was played in a night, from the pop stuff you had to play to some edgier stuff. I’d literally play Bob Marley, go into U2, and then into something completely different.”

Unhappy with The Copa’s vibe and weekend crowd, Steele returned to The Diamond within seven months. There he was greeted by bigger pay and great fanfare.

Photo by Julie Levene, courtesy of Barry Harris.

Who else played / worked there: The diverse DJ Dante held down weekends for much of 1987. That same year, Dave Ahmad, host of Dave’s Dance Music and a resident DJ at Club Z, took over Sundays for a period. Unlike Steele, he was a fan of the club.

“The Copa was the big cheese back in the day,” says Ahmad. “It was definitely the ‘beautiful people’ spot, with a hip, fashionable crowd who knew their music. Everyone would come through on a Sunday—lots of DJs, flight crews, young professionals, people from The Zone.

“The Copa was absolutely influential,” Ahmad emphasizes. “They showed that big dance clubs with multi-format nights could work. You could go The Copa on any given night and hear something that you had not heard before. It was a commercial bar, but the music mix was smart.”

CKLN host Dave Ahmad. Photo: Keith Beaty/Toronto Star.

Sundays returned to an alternative music format circa 1990, when DJ Iain McPherson, then still calling himself DJ EN, was brought on board by promotions manager Max Blandford, formerly of Nuts & Bolts.

“Sundays became ‘Piccadilly Circus: A Human Zoo,’ a delightfully irreverent night that did quite well for a while,” McPherson says. “There were ‘go-go humans’ in cages, hard-core clothes, and I played emerging underground electronic sounds, like New Beat and early Acid House. It was a far cry from the mainstream dance music that The Copa was known for at the time. We even had in live acts, including Karen Finley and Skinny Puppy.”

The Copa is largely remembered for hosting an impressive array of live shows, with 1980s appearances by the likes of Fela Kuti, Tina Turner, Herbie Hancock, Ray Charles, Berlin, Chaka Khan, Beastie Boys, A Flock of Seagulls, X, Erasure and Ministry.

Reggae greats including Burning Spear, Dennis Brown and Freddie McGregor performed, courtesy of late, great promoter Lance Ingleton and his LIP Entertainment. Jermaine Stewart performed in December of 1986, and received a gift from Santa. The Cult played in 1987; vocalist Ian Astbury notoriously smashed an overhead neon light with his mic stand. A bootleg recording of The Cult’s set from this night can still be found online.

“The biggest thing I remember about The Copa is that there was a constant diversity of crowds,” summarizes Boris Khaimovich, a Copa doorman who also worked as head of security and assistant manager between 1987-1989.

“We went from doing reggae nights to fetish nights. We did everything from black-tie events to hosting a Skinny Puppy concert two days later. The Copa was a club that was able to morph into whatever was needed, and even though it was corporate, the managers were given a fair amount of leeway to make decisions.”

The Copa’s large staff was filled with talented people who made their mark at that club and beyond. Many interviewees give special mention to The Copa’s main lighting woman, Andrée Emond, who worked in early dance music record shops and provided a visual aesthetic for numerous dance clubs. National Velvet vocalist Maria Del Mar was a Copa cigarette girl (yep, people could smoke and buy cigarettes at clubs back then). Promotions manager Max Blandford now promotes and markets large events and venues in Miami.

“I tried to give somebody a brief history of the Toronto nightclub scene the other day and it all kind of led back to The Copa,” says Khaimovich, who himself went on to manage Toronto clubs including Go-Go and Limelight. He now owns Maple Crescent Farm in Northumberland County.

Copa lighting technicialn Andree Emond. Photo courtesy of Barry Harris.

What happened to it: While The Copa had its heyday in the ’80s, it continued to operate until the early ’90s. Online research indicates that the club closed in 1992, while some of those I spoke with thought 1991 to be more accurate. What is clear is that The Copa was inundated with noise complaints throughout its existence and, in fact, was made an example of by Toronto city councillors when they voted to create the Entertainment District through a series of new zoning laws (read more about this here).

21 Scollard became The Barracuda in 1992. The sports bar and dance club famous for its cheap beer, indoor beach volleyball court and car on the roof closed in 1996. The property was heavily renovated in the early 2000s and is now a seven-storey condo, attached to the building at 18 Yorkville.

Thank you to contributors Arnie Kliger, Barry Harris, Boris Khaimovich, David Ahmad, Iain McPherson, Jason Steele, and to Carlos Mondesir, David Heymes, Don Berns, Julie Levene (R.I.P.), Mitch Winthrop, Shawn Squires.

The post Then & Now: The Copa appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published February 16, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her ongoing nightlife-history series, Denise Benson looks back at the first club creation of Toronto nightlife magnate Charles Khabouth. At just 22 years old, he opened Club Z in 1984, but its groundbreaking legacy lives on to this day.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Club Z, 11A St. Joseph Street

Years in operation: 1984-1989

History: Tracing the history of this city’s nightlife tells us much about its physical transformation and urban development. Nowhere is this more obvious than at the corner of Yonge and St. Joseph. Here, we’ve recently seen a few significant buildings largely demolished as part of their ongoing metamorphosis into Five Condos.

I had often wondered about the physical similarities between the original red brick buildings at 610 Yonge, 5 and 11 St. Joseph, and 15 St. Nicholas, but only recently noticed the plaque on 11’s easterly side. It turns out that moving and storage company Rawlinson Cartage built all of them, with the warehouse space of 11 St. Joseph constructed between 1895 and 1898.

Gay Torontonians who socialized in the 1970s and early ‘80s will remember 11A St. Joseph as popular all-ages discotheque Club Manatee, a three-level spot where the DJ booth was in the bow of a boat hanging above the crowd.

In September of 1984, directly after the Manatee’s closing, a 22-year-old Charles Khabouth debuted as a nightlife entrepreneur by opening Club Z in that very location. Now known as the CEO of INK Entertainment, whose many impressive properties include The Guvernment, La Société Bistro and the Bisha hotel/condo project, Khabouth started with just $30,000 and a desire to fuse his love of music, fashion and dance.

At the time, unlicensed (hence all-ages) after hours clubs were more common. Twilight Zone had opened in 1980 and was a bold new force on Richmond Street; Kongo Club (later Club Focus) would soon open on Hagerman; and Club Z neighbours Le Tube and Voodoo drew large fashion-conscious crowds, both gay and straight, with blends of new wave and alt disco.

“Back in those days, most nightclubs were limited to the confines of hotels,” recalls Khabouth. “In the early ’80s, the St. Joseph Street area was known to be the more underground social hub of nightlife. That area at night had an energy and vibrancy about it—an aura that you couldn’t get in hotel clubs. It had a bohemian feel, which is why it appealed to me.”

Khabouth describes Club Z’s aesthetic as “Do it yourself industrial design,” with much of the décor reportedly purchased at Canadian Tire. The club was bare bones, dark, but splashed with neon paint and squiggly lasers projected onto screens. It was multi-level, with two dancefloor/stage areas, high ceilings and a raised DJ booth accessed by a ladder. The back of the club contained a juice bar and video games like Pac-Man.

Club Z’s soundsystem was huge, and the space was reportedly licensed for 700-plus, but attendance was dauntingly low at first—until Khabouth rented a tiger to build buzz.

“After only being open for two months, and having no budget for advertising a Halloween event, I had to be creative,” he explains. “I had heard about a zoo up north that had tigers, and before I knew it, I had one delivered to the club. My office at the time had a large window and was street level, so it made for the perfect observation space. It caused quite the commotion.”

That’s an understatement. The tiger smashed the window in the early morning, and though still confined by a metal grille, it drew large crowds of people, the police, and the Humane Society. The incident made headlines and Club Z became a sensation.

Charles Khabouth was only 22 years old when he opened Club Z in 1984.

Why it was important: Club Z was one of Toronto’s first clubs to feature breaking sounds in dance music, with house mixed alongside freestyle, electro, early hip-hop and new wave. Khabouth himself took regular trips to New York, Detroit and Chicago “To hunt for new sounds in record shops.”

Music was central to creating an atmosphere that brought together a diverse downtown crowd Friday-through-Sunday, with Sundays a dedicated gay night that included drag shows.

“The crowd was very urban and eclectic,” recalls Toronto house music bricklayer Dino Demopoulos, who got his DJ start at Z, playing with twin brother Terry on occasional Fridays.

“There were a lot of alternative types there, the kind of freaks that you only had in the ’80s,” he says lovingly.

“During the Charles years Club Z was very hip downtown,” agrees journalist, DJ and then-Starsound Records employee Johnbronski, a regular at the club who later tended to its sound system.

“Gay, straight, new wave, hip-hop, disco, black, white, Chinese, Indian—it didn’t matter because the music came first. Remember, no booze was sold; it was just a big warehouse type space for dancing to some serious bass. The shared love of hip-hop and dance music culture was a very big part. You really needed to have an ear to the streets to know what was up back then.

“It was a place where a teenager could escape,” Johnbronski adds. “You’d sneak out of your house at midnight and head downtown, meeting and making new friends that you’d only see between 1-to-6am on weekends. Teachers and school friends thought I was making up stories about an all-ages dance club that opened at 11pm.”

Khabouth, who could often be found by the club’s front door, built his own career foundations at Z. He’s clearly proud of it to this day.

“I believe that Club Z pioneered a whole new music direction and a generation of club culture in Toronto. That’s why I am still looking for the latest sounds, and still find it crucial to invest in the best sound systems. Music is everything, and it’s the soul of any club.”

Club Z’s rise, in fact, can be heavily attributed to its star DJ: JC of the Sunshine Sound Crew, a Z resident from 1985-1988, long before he helmed the Phoenix’ famous Planet Vibe Sundays.

“Club Z was really all about JC,” says Demopoulos. “His talent put Z on the map because the club was known for having a shit-hot DJ playing all the best electronic music in Toronto, in my opinion. Though he didn’t play that much house, he covered a lot of ground musically, from Kraftwerk and Alexander Robotnik to New York electro and freestyle stuff like Debbie Deb’s ‘Look Out Weekend,‘ and just a lot of great club music like Denise Edwards, Joyce Sims, Nu Shooz, Madonna, and Colonel Abrams.

“JC was also the first DJ that we saw who had a drum machine—a Roland 808—up in the booth, and he would do much more than just play records. He was super professional at what he did, the most technically perfect DJ we had ever heard, so he really raised the bar for what a DJ could and should do in a club. He was that good.”

Dino & Terry were Club Z regulars, not only listening to and learning from JC, but also throwing occasional parties there and guest DJing alongside Dave Ahmad during his Friday night tenure between 1986-87.

“We’d been DJing at house parties, school parties and things like that,” says Demopoulos; “But this was our first real club, playing the kind of music that really changed our lives and put all the rest of our music career things in motion.

“At the time, pretty much only the Twilight Zone was playing underground house from Chicago, Detroit techno and New York stuff, and we were pretty crazy collectors of anything in the genre. We would take all the latest and greatest white labels and hard to find stuff to play at Club Z on Fridays. A fun story: we used to make sure to pour very stiff drinks for Dave Ahmad so that he would get really drunk and let us play for longer. He was so cool, and really progressive with the underground music at the time. Although JC would play some underground house stuff, Dave and us played a lot more of it.”

As for Ahmad himself, he’s one of Toronto’s true dance music pioneers. From 1981-2000, he hosted a variety of programs on CKLN 88.1FM, most notably influential Sunday afternoon program Dave’s Dance Music. He also DJed at Toronto hotspots including The Copa, Twilight Zone and Fresh.

“We played mainly house, but threw in some heavier electro and some wave; Kate Bush’s ‘Running Up That Hill‘ was a big one then,” Ahmad recalls of his Fridays at Z. “The crowd loved their music, but took time to rock out to anything new.

“I remember breaking out ‘Erotic City‘ by Prince there. Half of the crowd went nuts while the others didn’t know what hit them. [Dancer/choreographer] Steve Bolton was in the crowd, and ran up to the booth. I showed him the cut—it had just come in at Starsound that night. So the crowd was not all trendsetters, but they loved their music. Hot clothes too!”

Charles Khabouth (far left) and friends at Club Z

Who else played there: Other Club Z residents included electro, freestyle and new wave DJs Chico and Sherwin, who also opened popular after hours spot Amadeus right around the corner.

“I used to make my pilgrimage down to Z to hear Sherwin,” says Johnbronski. “I loved the way he mixed stuff like ‘I Love You‘ by Yello with Pet Shop Boys and Depeche Mode—those were essentially house beat records before house was even a concept. He was ahead of the curve on that, and mixed on three turntables, taking pieces from here and there, and layering in acapellas.”

International guest DJs and performers at Club Z included Grandmaster Flash, Newcleus, De La Soul, and Joyce Sims.

Also interesting to note is that famed New York nightclub operator and restaurateur Jeffrey Jah got his start producing parties at Club Z.

11A St. Joseph Street today

What happened to it: Charles Khabouth sold Club Z to Warren Webley, father of Sunshine Sound Crew and owner of Sunshine Sound and Lighting, in 1987.

“I had opened up Stilife and needed to focus strictly on that,” says Khabouth of the trendsetting, sophisticated spot he opened at Richmond and Duncan in 1986. “Although I was still involved with Club Z, it broke my heart to sell it.”

While DJ JC continued to play at Club Z, a lot of the house heads switched their allegiances fully to Twilight Zone.

Johnbronski, who began to work for Warren Webley as a DJ, sound tech and occasional doorman, recalls that his boss—also owner of Club Focus on Hagerman Street—closed Club Z’s doors for a period. It was re-opened as the new Club Focus in 1989. By that time, the area had become much rougher, with vandalism, muggings and overdoses all associated with the St Joseph Street clubs. Racist and homophobic skinheads were also a problem.

A young man named Jamie Withers was, in fact, stabbed and killed inside Club Z in 1989. His death is said to have prompted Webley to close Club Z and later re-open the space as Focus.

“My memory is that the fights and stuff were mushrooming and that I wanted to stay away from there,” says Johnbronski. “It was at a time when Toronto was beginning to go through a real urban expansion. I mean, think about it—it’s Toronto after hours, it’s near Yonge Street and we’re talking before Richmond and the whole club district existed. That area attracted a lot of everybody.”

11A St. Joseph later became dark after hours spot Playground. In the late ‘90s, Steve Ireson and partners cleaned the space up and opened it as The Pad. Between 2002 and 2004, 11 St. Joseph was redeveloped for residential use. It’s now marketed as Eleven Residencies.

As for Charles Khabouth and INK, they recently launched Chroma inside The Guvernment. Their newest nightclub, Cube, will open at the end of February, replacing INK’s Ultra club at 312 Queen West. Many Torontonians will most strongly associate this address with the BamBoo, a legendary restaurant and live music venue that was at the heart of Queen West for decades.

Thank you to all who contributed to this piece, including Paul E. Lopes, Hal Wong, Steve Ireson, Carlos Mondesir and Chris Torella. Sadly, despite much searching, very little photographic evidence of Club Z could be found. Please let us know if you have photos!

The post Then & Now: Club Z appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.