After almost two decades of hosting the world’s biggest DJs, alongside some of Toronto’s finest, Canada’s largest nightclub recently closed doors to make way for condo development on the waterfront. With the participation of some of The Guv’s key players, Then & Now delves deep to tell the exhaustive story of a club that mirrors – and contributed greatly to – electronic music’s evolution. Rave on.

By: DENISE BENSON

Club: The Guvernment complex, 132 Queens Quay East

Years in operation: 1996 – 2015

History: Charles Khabouth has been mentioned throughout the Then & Now series as his influence in Toronto nightlife is widely felt. Khabouth’s earliest nightclubs, Club Z on St. Joseph and Stilife on Richmond, were pioneering in very different ways. Early in 1996, he began work on a wildly ambitious project, one so successful that it would both cement Toronto’s reputation as an international clubbing destination, and anchor Khabouth’s ever-expanding business empire. But things could have turned out very differently.

In the mid ‘90s, the stretch of our waterfront near Queens Quay and Jarvis was still fairly isolated and industrial. A stone’s throw from Lake Shore Boulevard, it held factories, parking lots and stretches of open space. Condos did not dominate the landscape.

The 60,000 square foot space at 132 Queens Quay East had housed large clubs in its recent past. From 1984 to late 1985, it had been home to the Assoon brothers’ innovative Fresh Restaurant and Nightclub. For the next decade, it was the location of popular club RPM and its sister concert space, the Warehouse.

When Khabouth took over the building on January 1, 1996 he couldn’t have known that he had almost eight months of renovating ahead. But he did know that he had to compete with Toronto’s then-booming, highly concentrated Entertainment District.

“I thought, ‘How am I going to compete with 50 nightclubs side-by-side downtown?’ Khabouth tells me during an expansive interview. “Kids would go to the one area and bop around all night long. I realized I had to do a multi-room venue or I had no hope in hell. That’s why I created five venues under one roof, plus the Warehouse, which really was a warehouse.” Though the Warehouse was already well established as a concert venue, Khabouth mainly attributes this to its size (Toronto has a dearth of such venues with a capacity of two to three thousand).

“There was nothing there,” he exclaims of the space; “There were not even any bars built. Instead, there were boxes that they used to stand up and roll out, with Pepsi-Cola beer fridges. There was no running water. There were columns in the Warehouse; I spent millions of dollars just removing five columns. I rebuilt the stage. An insane amount of money went into there.”

Khabouth’s pockets were not as deep in early ‘96 so he had to spend wisely. He hired Yabu Pushelberg, who had designed Stilife’s stunning interior, and asked them to work on a tight budget. As a nod to Stilife, there was a section of ceiling-to-floor chains installed in what would become the Guv’s main room, but little else was similar.

“They didn’t go all out, in terms of spending money, because they understood the situation,” says Khabouth of the designers. “So the aesthetics were cool, but there was no marble, no granite, no silver leaf ceilings. What we did was build some beds with fun fur, some furniture with bubble gum, purple, lime green and orange vinyl. We made the room sexy, but more of a fun space.”

The Guvernment in 1996. Photo courtesy of a Then & Now reader.

The Guvernment complex opened in summer 1996, with the main room and Acid Lounge off of it, Orange Room, The Drink, and a rooftop patio. This section of the building was licensed for a total of 1600 (over time, and with multiple renovations, capacity would more than triple).

People entered through a curved area, turning around a bend before walking directly onto the dancefloor. Where RPM’s emphasis had fallen on its huge bar in the middle of the room and stage along the east wall, which had a dancefloor sectioned off of it by railings, the Guv’s main room was all about the dancefloor. Bars surrounded it.

Most impressive of all was The Guvernment’s sound and lighting.

“I had the sound system custom made [by New York’s Steve Dash of Phazon]. All of the boxes, the mixing board, everything was custom made for us. We had the identical sound system until the end.

“I had hydraulic trusses – nobody had hydraulics back then – that went up and down, with moving lights. I also got a massive laser; at the time, it was the largest laser in Canada. I wanted the sound and the lighting to wow people. I spent a lot of my money there so that when you went in, you felt ‘Whoa!’”

More than 12 million people would come to be wowed at the Guv over time, but crowds did not flock there from the start. It took a while for people to even know it existed.

“My biggest issue was that by the time I opened, I was in a lot of debt,” Khabouth admits. “That thing was like the ocean; it was never-ending. You’d rip one wall out, and it would be rotted so we’d have to rip out the floor and the ceiling. And then there would be plumbing that had rotted, and electrical issues. It was layer after layer. By the time I opened, I was completely out of money to do promotion and marketing. There was no social media back then, remember.

“We opened in the middle of summer, when The Docks [now Sound Academy] had just opened, and they had this beautiful patio on the water. Cars would stop and ask us how to get to The Docks; they didn’t know we were open or have a clue who we were. It took about three or four months of hanging on to that massive building before we were up-and-running. When you’re supposed to have a few thousand people and you have three hundred, it’s scary.”

Guvernment main room interior in 1996, from a Boost & Titan Productions promo flyer.

Guvernment main room interior in 1996, from a Boost & Titan Productions promo flyer.

Why it was important: There are myriad reasons why The Guvernment (eventually to become known simply as ‘Guvernment’) was a significant venue in Toronto and beyond. Some were evident from its start, including Khabouth’s commitment to dance and electronic music.

Khabouth hired Albert Assoon, formerly of Fresh and Twilight Zone, as Guvernment’s first musical director. Early DJs included names familiar from Stilife, like Joe Marella and JC Sunshine. Still, it was a slow build.

A Saturday night appearance by Danny Tenaglia helped change that. Sound engineer Steve Dash, also co-owner of influential New York club Sound Factory, where Tenaglia played, suggested that Guvernment book him.

“I was like ‘Who the hell is Danny?’” chuckles Khabouth. “He was very much gay focused at that time; the straight market hadn’t caught on to him yet. What happened that night was really weird.

“By that time, we were attracting maybe a thousand people weekly. Then we also had a thousand or 1500 boys show up. When Danny went on, all the shirts came off. I had some people leave, asking ‘Is this a gay club? Is this a straight club?’ It was a funny, but good experience. Danny was so able to drive the sound system – he used it to its fullest and honestly, it was hair-raising.”

As luck would have it, Khabouth had also hired a new resident DJ to launch Spin Saturdays the following week.

Mark Oliver was already well established in Toronto, having played countless warehouse parties, and clubs ranging from the gritty and groovy (Cameron House, Tazmanian Ballroom) to larger and more polished (Klub Max, Go-Go). By 1996 though, Oliver was at the centre of our rave scene, having emerged from the dark rooms of 23 Hop (318 Richmond) to play massive productions.

“I was headlining pretty much every rave in town at the time, and was playing at Buzz, which is now Comfort Zone,” says Oliver. “Charles knew he had to go big with Guvernment, and questioned me. He knew I played the raves, and was probably concerned about all the things he’d been reading about that scene. He also wanted to make sure I would be able to play some of the more commercial sounding club tracks. I assured him that I’d played Klub Max before, and that I always play the room. I don’t like to cheese out all the way, but I do understand the usefulness of a good remix.

“I think Charles was still a bit nervous, but we set a date, which was in September of 1996. Danny Tenaglia had played the week before. From that Saturday until the end, it was packed every week.”

“From the first night Mark was there, I thought ‘Wow. This guy gets it,’” credits Khabouth. “Playing a big room is difficult. The sound has to be big, and the programming is totally different. Mark has an incredible talent. He never misses, never.”

Oliver had a deep appreciation of Guvernment’s sound system. “As a DJ, you want the best sound possible, and it was a dream come true,” he enthuses. “I knew with Albert there that it was going to be something special, based on his pedigree with Twilight Zone. The sound itself was pristine. The monitors matched perfectly to the dancefloor, so whatever you heard up in the booth was what people heard below. The DJ booth was still in the spot where it was at RPM, so it was pretty high up from the dancefloor, and quite removed, which suited me perfectly.”

Guv’s original DJ booth. Photo taken December 31, 1996 by a Then & Now reader.

Though there were occasional live PAs, with performances by vocalists including Gwen McCrae and Octahvia, Oliver played Guvernment’s main room “Every Saturday, from beginning to end, for the first five years.

“It was basically a rave, but there was a dress code,” Oliver describes; “So instead of wearing fun fur, everyone wore shirts that looked like they’d just bought them to get in the club. Then they tried to get them off as soon as they could. Any time there was a shirtless dude, three bouncers would make him put his shirt back on, at least back then.”

Ravers, in fact, were a big part of what kept The Guvernment complex afloat early on. Khabouth rented the rooms to rave production companies, which met everyone’s needs at the time. This helped a scene under scrutiny continue to grow, and paid some bills while word of the Guv spread.

“Basically, the City had jumped all over the rave promoters, and essentially sent the raves indoors,” recalls Jamil Kamal, who started working security at the Guvernment in 1996, and became Khabouth’s right-hand-man in all things risk management.

“The raves were forced into club venues, and Charles had the biggest one.”

Promoters like Better Days, Destiny, Hullabaloo, Kind, Renegades and Syrous took full advantage of the club’s potential. Some people grumbled about the move from warehouses, roller rinks and borrowed spaces to legal venues, but there were advantages.

“I wasn’t against the legal venues as they had proper plumbing, exits, alcohol for sale, and proper security,” says Marcus Visionary, local DJ, producer and drum ‘n’ bass ambassador. “Some people hated the legal events, but many of us embraced them because they were safe, and they were at less risk of being shut down.

“I loved playing inside the Warehouse as it felt like an underground venue, but much more secure. One of my favourite Syrous events was held there – the five-year anniversary [in 1998] with True Playaz, featuring Hype, Pascal, Fats and GQ.”

Syrous ‘Hyped,’ 5-Year Anniversary Party, 1998. Video by Rick Toxic. 

“Our Syrous five-year was one of the first raves where the entire complex, and all the rooms in it, was filled,” recalls Rob Lisi, a Syrous co-founder.

That same year, Lisi and fellow rave entrepreneurs Steve and Wayne Mealing (a.k.a. DJs Stretch & Hooker), Aaron Micks, and Tyler Cho formed Lifeforce Industries, an umbrella organization under which their Syrous, Renegades and Dose brands lived. Between 1996 and 2001, they produced about 10 parties at the Guv and Warehouse (Warehouse became KoolHaus in 1999, following renovations).

“I liked the fact that KoolHaus was an empty shell, and you could create whatever you wanted with it,” says Lisi. “You could have parties there every week, and make them look totally different. The main room on the other hand was already operating as a nightclub. The design and décor were impressive, and the sound system and DJ booth were second to none at that time.

“For the more established promoters, the Guvernment complex was the only game in town. Until we started producing events with 10 to 15 thousand people, and growing into venues like CNE and The International Centre, there weren’t a lot of large, legal venue options in the city. The Guverment’s location meant it was far enough from residential neighbourhoods that you wouldn’t get 20 sound complaints in a night. The capacity of the whole complex was also attractive to promoters because you could accommodate 5000 people, with the potential to program different genres of music in each room.”

The multiple rooms and distinct experiences they offered was always one of the venue’s biggest draws. Khabouth understood how to maximize these differences to create a unique whole.

“I had worked security at clubs like Joker and Big Bop, both of which had multiple floors and DJs, but it was always the same demographic moving from floor to floor,” describes Kamal. “What I really appreciated about Guvernment in its beginning was that you had this incredible complex that catered to completely different crowds.

“Other than the Acid Lounge, every room had its own DJ booth, entry, washrooms, coat check and identity. It wasn’t just ‘The hip-hop room of the Guvernment.’ People would say ‘I’m here for the Orange Room.’ There were people who went to The Drink for years, and never ventured elsewhere. They drove in from the suburbs, went up to The Drink in their dress pants and shirt, and never went downstairs.”

The Orange Room. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

The Drink was Guvernment’s VIP space. In the RPM days, the room had been where people went to play pool and gaze out at the lake. Khabouth boarded up the windows, courted light controversy by putting in fish tanks for tables and lining one wall with a shelf of dildos, and hired smart, attractive people to decide who got in.

Zark Fatah, now partner in Capture Group, was one of those people. He had worked at RPM as a go-go dancer, got hired as an early Guvernment bartender, and promoted various rooms at the club before heading to Miami for a stretch. When he came back in 1999, Fatah worked door at The Drink.

“My thing was bringing in the more fashion forward, mature demographic,” Fatah says. “To get in to The Drink was not easy; you had to look a certain part, and cover charge was higher. The Drink was that next level of clubbing.” “

The Drink catered to the suit-and-tie, cigar-smoking crowd,” summarizes Oliver. “The Leafs used to come after their games. Mats Sundin used to hang out there. It was the hot spot. Although you could walk back and forth, that crowd stuck to The Drink and the ravers stuck to the main room.”

Friday nights at The Guvernment also attracted a variety of people to the different rooms. The crowd was largely gay for well over a year, with DJs including Cory Activate, James St. Bass and Matt C playing alongside out-of-town guests. Guv was known to be very gay friendly, with Boy’s Life events, Prism parties, and other special events in the overall programming mix.

DJ Clymaxxx at Global Fridays, 1999. Photo courtesy of him.

Early in 1998, Global Fridays launched as a new weekly. DJ Clymaxxx, known for his signature three-turntable sets (the xxx represents three turntables) and for packing The Joker nightclub for two years’ of Fridays, became a Guv main room resident. DJs Kid C, Dave Campbell and Baby Yu (now official tour DJ for Young Jeezy) joined him, while G-Money played in The Drink, Toney Williams MCed, and people like Neil Forester (now owner of the Substance Group) hosted.

“We called it ‘Global Fridays’ because we wanted to cater to everyone,” explains DJ Clymaxxx. “It was Latin upstairs in The Drink, classic tracks in the Acid Lounge, and a different music format in each room. The main room was straight urban, with R&B, hip-hop, dancehall, and even some soca.

“Urban music was starting to blow up in the mainstream again, but back then you could only really listen to R&B and hip-hop at much smaller venues. A lot of club owners worried about touching an urban night, but then, Charles was never typical. He took a chance on bringing the format into the main room for a weekly. In the process, he captured a massive audience that wanted to experience an urban party in a world-class club environment.”

From 1998 to 2004, Global Fridays packed the Guv, with a range of big-name guests, like Funkmaster Flex, Cipha Sounds, DJ Clue, and DJ Who Kid adding to the vibes. Clymaxxx got crowds pumping to the sounds of anthems like Mobb Deep’s “Shook Ones Pt. II;” M.O.P. featuring Busta Rhymes’ “Ante Up”;” Notorious B.I.G. “One More Chance;” Jay-Z “I Just Wanna Love U,” and 112’s “Only You.”

“The Friday night crowd was extremely passionate about music,” says the DJ. “Thousands would jump up and down, chanting lyrics in unison, and go absolutely nuts. I could literally feel the room shake. That’s another thing that was so different about Charles: where other club owners would tell me to calm it down because the crowd was getting too fired up, he relished the crowd reaction. He would routinely walk into the DJ booth during prime time, inspect the absolute pandemonium going on below, then tell me to kick it up a notch and make it crazier.”

DJ Clymaxxx (left) with Charles Khabouth in 1999. Photo courtesy of DJ Clymaxxx.

“The Guvernment was a spectacle every night, and Charles made it that way,” confirms Kamal. “It was a testament to his vision. People will ask ‘Can you learn what Charles does?’ Operationally, sure, but you can’t learn what he’s created. There’s no book that can teach you that. He can look at a room and turn it into something special.”

Khabouth’s genuine love of dance music fed into that vision. The success of many full-facility raves only added to his belief that electronic music should figure prominently in the Guv’s programming.

“I saw where the music was going, and where the kids were going,” says Khabouth. ”The music was great. My biggest thing in life is that I like to do what I enjoy, and I loved this.

“I used to have a baseball cap I’d keep in the back, and when I put it on, the staff would know I was going to dance. I’d go in the middle of the floor, and dance. I wasn’t thinking ‘How much money did I make tonight?’ I was thinking ‘This is awesome!’ Of course I want to make money, but I was driven by the music, the energy, the kids that got all dressed up to come out, the costumes. It was an era when people came out and had an incredible time.”

In some ways, it’s both impressive and amazing that a venue the size of Guvernment remained committed to an electronic music format on Saturdays for its entire history. There was a period in the very early 2000s when Toronto’s rave scene fractured, the audience for the music shrunk, and the parties moved into more intimate club settings. Guvernment also had to compete for crowds and talent with newer clubs like System Soundbar and Turbo. The guaranteed big room draws weren’t as plentiful then as they would become less than 10 years later, as EDM became all the rage in America.

“It was risky [to focus on electronic music] then, in every way,” says Khabouth. “We had cops harass us; the music wasn’t very commercial, radio wasn’t playing it. Even though we did big numbers sometimes, it was still very much an underground scene. We took a lot of chances.”

DJ Mark Oliver at Guvernment circa 2007. Photo by André M Photography.

Spin Saturdays remained popular, with Mark Oliver at the musical helm. His vantage point allowed him to see a lot more than the crowds; Oliver also observed as touring DJs came to expect the spotlight.

“The first five years, it was just me playing all night, and then we started bringing in more guests, especially after Industry closed,” Oliver recalls. “I remember that some of the guests, instead of having the gooseneck lamps pointed down at the turntables to see the record grooves, they turned them up towards themselves and put them on full blast. They wanted everyone to see them. It soon became evident that a lot of these DJs wanted to be down on the stage, so [in 2007] the room was renovated significantly.

“The original stage, along the east wall, became bottle service – that whole thing was coming into play so they needed to create booths and tables – and the stage itself was moved right into the middle. The DJ booth was put on hydraulics so you could lower it right down. That way the superstar DJs could be front and centre, and when there were concerts, the booth could be lowered underneath the stage.”

Early guests included a number of British DJs, like Carl Cox and Paul Oakenfold, who had played huge Toronto raves as well as at Industry nightclub, but weren’t yet household names across North America. Guvernment was impressive to them.

Paul Oakenfold in Guvernment DJ booth circa 2004. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

“For the first few years that guests were coming in, guys like Sasha and John Digweed would say ‘This is the best club in the world.’ It had that reputation,” says Oliver.

“A lot of times, they would tour through the States and play Toronto before going back to Europe. This was before the EDM explosion so they were playing all kinds of weird venues in the U.S., like country bars and stuff. Then they’d come in to Guvernment and be blown away. Some were shocked, like ‘This is better than Ibiza!’”

Oliver missed less than 10 Saturdays during Spin’s long run (“Firstly, I have four kids so I wasn’t going to travel all that much. Also, touring DJs would say to me ‘Why would you go anywhere else?’”). His perspective as an 18-year resident at the largest club in Canada meant he was not only witness to trends in big room club music, but also to changes in DJ styles and skills.

“We started off with Danny Tenaglia, Junior Vasquez, David Morales, and guys who’d been spinning for years,” explains Oliver. “They were true DJs. Then it seemed that anyone who put out a track was a DJ, and many just weren’t. They were producers, and they’d come in and try to DJ, but it would fall apart. A lot of the crowd became less discerning.”

Over time, and with a lot of EDM producers’ reliance on concert-like production values to enhance the impact of their massive beats and dramatic bass drops, crowds also came to expect a show rather than a steady flow of sound through the night.

“For a lot of the younger crowd, it can be more about ‘What’s this DJ going to do visually to turn me on?’ rather than sonically,” offers Oliver. “Some people would look at me and say I was boring because I wasn’t raising my hands and striking poses. But I’m actually working, putting a set together on the fly. Guys like John Digweed, it’s the same thing. His head is down most of the time, focused on what he’s doing. Others would come in with sets all pre-programmed on Traktor or Serato; they were all about the interaction with the crowd. It seems to be split these days; half the crowd is into that while the other half is deeper into the music. I just stuck to my guns and played what I play.”

Digweed DJing Guv main room at Labour of Love in 2005. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Steve Aoki with Bloody Beetroots. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Afrojack at Labour of Love 2010. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

No matter where one stands in relation to this divide, or your personal tastes in electronic music, there simply is no denying that both Guvernment and INK Entertainment, the company Khabouth founded as an umbrella organization for his multitude of clubs and lifestyle projects, book the biggest name in the biz. Avicii, Armin van Buuren, Afrojack, Tiësto, David Guetta, Hardwell, Steve Angello, Above and Beyond, Deadmau5, and so many more of today’s top tier touring DJs have played the Guv, many of them multiple times, including early in their careers.

“People say it’s because we throw a lot of money at talent,” says Khabouth of INK’s access to agents and bookings. “I think we pay less than most people do. We’ve been there since day one, and there’s a certain commitment from the managers, the DJs – that ‘Hey, these guys were booking us when we were 500 bucks.’

“If another player comes to town tomorrow, who doesn’t have the relationships, but they had a hundred million dollars, they couldn’t book the same talent. Why? Because we have those relationships, those partnerships, friendships, and understandings. With us, they know the production will be quality, and that we’re going to fill the room. Then you’re building somebody’s name and career.”

INK and the Guvernment have also remained leaders in the electronic music industry through sheer size and volume, with ownership of club venues past and present including This Is London, Cube, Uniun, and Dragonfly in Niagara Falls, not to mention festivals such as VELD. Khabouth also gives credit to INK’s Music Director, Talal Farisi.

“Talal has been with us for 13 or 14 years, and he definitely has his finger on the pulse. He’s 24-7. He’s got a good ear for finding talent, finding who is up-and-coming, and for building incredible DJ lineups.”

In turn, people such as Zark Fatah, who now co-owns clubs such as Maison Mercer, credits Khabouth. “Guvernment put Toronto on the map globally,” Fatah states. “What Charles did was provide an amazing platform for some of the best DJs in the world to come and play our city. In North America, we are one of the few cities that sees the talent that we get.”

There is no question that the Guvernment’s bookings are a big part of what earned the club its international reputation as a place to play, for DJs and clubbers alike. Guvernment regularly ranked well in DJ Mag’s annual Top 100 Clubs lists, reaching as high as #8 in 2008. The club’s design, constant refreshing, and Khabouth’s well-established attention to details also played a big part.

Chroma (formerly the Orange Room). Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

“I’ve traveled to Ibiza and all the big club destinations around the world, and I still find Guvernment to be impressive,” says Fatah, also an avid photographer and prone to observing minutiae himself. “It was unique, with so many offerings. Design and details were always very important to Charles, and he definitely had the creative vision to push the envelope, and do what he thought would be cool.

“He didn’t have to brand five different rooms, but he did. And then he would renovate and reinterpret each room every few years. A lot of club owners get complacent, and don’t change anything until it gets to be necessary. Charles has always been very progressive in his thinking.”

“I would simply describe the space as world class,” agrees DJ Clymaxxx. “There really was nothing comparable in the city. I’ll always remember the look of awe on people’s faces when they walked into the main room for the first time. I saw that reaction a lot over the years; it was the same reaction I had. Because of Charles’ continued reinvestment in the venue, the club always felt fresh.

“There was a certain ‘it factor’ about Guv – something that just made it feel totally different from any other club in the country,” adds Clymaxxx. “If you ever found yourself in the middle of a packed dancefloor there at 2:30am, blinded by the lights, and with the speakers pounding, you probably know what I’m talking about.”

Who else played there: Although this article largely focuses on the Guv as a significant home for DJs and electronic music culture, it must be said that the complex hosted bands, productions, and music of all types.

Hundreds of artists played on the Guvernment stage, such as Daft Punk, Brand New Heavies, Macy Gray, Jungle Brothers and Le Tigre. The Warehouse and KoolHaus were host to thousands, with a tiny list including David Bowie, Prince, INXS, Bob Dylan, Sonic Youth, Coldplay, Chemical Brothers, The Knife, Portishead, Prodigy, Underworld, Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Kings of Leon, Chromeo, My Bloody Valentine, Broken Social Scene, Foo Fighters, Neutral Milk Hotel, The Roots, and Lykke Li.

Lykke Li at KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

KoolHaus also got a workout during the Guv’s many full-facility long weekend events, like Labour of Love and Decadence. The room continued to be of importance for junglists as Theory events often spilled over into the space.

Theory was a drum ‘n’ bass series that ran from 2002 to 2009. Launched by former Guvernment talent booker Jose Rodriguez, Theory was co-produced and anchored by Toronto DJs Tasc and Marcus Visionary, with Mr. Brown, Clancy Silver, Frankie Gunns, and others later coming on as co-residents. The full spectrum of dnb and jungle was represented through Theory’s seriously stacked lineups.

“At one point, Theory was the largest dnb company in the country,” says Visionary. “We booked most of the big names over the years. We had Fabio on the rooftop, Andy C and Shy FX in The Drink, Mampi Swift in the Gallery, and several massive raves in KoolHaus and the Guv main room. We also had Die and Krust play a back-to-back set in The Drink, which was very memorable. The Drink was a long, not-so-big venue that would get rammed, and the energy was always so incredible! I also can’t count how many times we had Hype, Calibre and Fabio inside the Orange Room.

“The Guv complex most definitely played a massive role in the development of dnb,” adds Visionary, who continues to DJ and produce prolifically, tours Europe regularly, and now broadcasts twice monthly on British radio station Kool London.

Marcus Visionary (left) with ShyFX at Theory. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Theory in KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

DJ Hype in KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Over the years, Theory also presented dnb giants like Grooverider, LTJ Bukem, Photek, Kenny Ken, Suv, Bryan Gee, TeeBee, Calyx, Zinc, and the Digital Soundboy crew. Jungle and drum ‘n’ bass was also well represented throughout the Guvernment’s history by Destiny’s Projek: series, Soul In Motion’s many events, and shows produced by the likes of Toronto Jungle, Sonorous, and On Point.

As mentioned earlier, Guvernment was also a favoured venue for large gay productions.

Prism party (2012). Photo by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

“Revival, the closing party for Pride Weekend, was always the best gay event there,” enthuses Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko, who worked at the Guv for more than 10 years, first doing décor and then as a lighting technician.

“The late DJ Peter Rauhofer did Revival year-after-year for the thousands of men who filled the dancefloor. I will always remember the sunlight flooding in when the patio doors opened at 6am. The party never ended before 9am!”

Korittko mentions a number of other DJs he loved to work alongside, including Ferry Corsten, Paul van Dyk, Gareth Emery, Simon Patterson, Ashley Wallbridge, and Markus Schulz.

Markus Schulz at Guvernment in 2009. Video by Kotsy. See more Kotsy videos from The Guv here.

“The Guvernment set the standards for nightclubs in Toronto,” says Korittko. “No one could compete with the size of the place or the talent that was booked. International DJs called it their Canadian home, and produced tracks named after the venue, and its intersecting streets.”

That said, Toronto talent was also at the Guv’s core. Early on, when each room had its own distinct sound, DJs like George William, James K., Gio, and Dave White were residents. Dave Campbell, Iron Mike, Greg Gow, DJ Aristotle, and others bounced between rooms over the years. Countless local DJs, myself included, played at varying stages of our careers. The Guvernment was a place many aimed to play, and where some built reputations.

DJ/producer Sydney Blu falls into both camps. Known for her love of house and high energy behind the decks, Blu had played clubs like 5ive, Element, It, Mad Bar, Comfort Zone, and System Soundbar before she landed a residency at the Guvernment complex.

Blu started playing at Guvernment in 2002, when she proved herself to be up for long sets and tricky set-ups. Her first Guv gig was playing for the more than 10,000 people who walked by her during the seven-plus hours she mixed vinyl outside the club, as part of that year’s Labour of Love event.

“Charles called, and asked me to come play for the lineup in the parking lot,” Blu recalls. “They put a DJ booth with turntables outside, and I played for every single person who walked into the club.”

By 2005, Blu had played a variety of Guvernment events, as well as at other INK-owned venues. She had a successful Saturday weekly at Film Lounge when she was asked to be a Guv resident at Gallery, a new room set to open.

“I knew Addy, Deko-ze and Nathan Barato were coming, and thought it would be amazing for us all to be residents of the same party,” recalls Blu. “The first night Gallery was unveiled was Halloween 2005, with Steve Lawler. The walls were red velvet, with a giant gazelle head hung over the DJ booth. That gazelle was the Gallery’s signature mascot.”

Sydney Blu in the Gallery. Photo by Sasha Niveole, courtesy of Sydney Blu.

Original flyer for Gallery. Courtesy of Sydney Blu.

Deko-ze in Gallery, 2008. Photo by André M Photography.

From 2005 to 2008, Gallery was a major draw on Saturdays for clubbers into house and techno. Along with Blu and the core crew, Toronto DJs including Simon Jain, Carlo Lio, Evan G, JayForce, Joee Cons , Ovi M, and Tim Patrick tore the room up. Activate was a core promoter of the room, helping to bring in touring DJs such as Donald Glaude, Anthony Attalla, Heidi, Jesse Rose, Paco Osuna, and others.

“It was a dark, hard, afterhours sound,” says Blu of Gallery Saturdays. She lists Mark Knight’s “The Reason;” DJ Chus’ “That Feeling;” DJ Exacta’s “Flippin;” Noir’s “My MTV,” and her own “Give it Up for Me” on Mau5trap as personal anthems of the time and space.

“The crowd was hardcore, I’m not gonna lie. Bottle service did not work in that room; those people had one goal, and that was to dance like no one’s watching! The room’s energy was really electric. The DJ booth was completely level with the crowd so everyone was equal, and everyone was there to unite, and go nuts to the music.”

Similarly, local duo Manzone & Strong established themselves through a tough, tight techno and house hybrid sound that made Guvernment crowds go mad. Joe Manzone and Fab Strong started as residents in The Drink in 2002, played the infamous Skybar sunrise sets, alongside DJs including Dubfire, Benny Benassi and Steve Lawler, and ruled the Gallery on Saturdays during the late 2000s. In 2010, the versatile duo became main room co-residents, with Mark Oliver.

“We have opened up for almost every big name international DJ, and we’ve played a different set every time,” write the duo of their collective approach to mixing. “Nothing is ever pre-programmed or planned. We are very good at reading crowds, and adapt quickly as the energy and vibe changes. Ultimately, it’s always house music.”

Joe Manzone and Fab Strong with Mark Oliver in 2002 and 2015. Courtesy of Manzone & Strong.

Manzone & Strong (middle) with Deep Dish. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Manzone & Strong appear at a variety of INK venues, but the Guv was especially close to their hearts, partly because of the talent booked. I asked them to talk favourites.

“Danny Tenaglia has always been an inspiration to us, both as a DJ and a talented producer. Known for his legendary marathon sets and quirky stage antics, he’s one of the very few who will bring a smile to your face while you dance to his beats. Deep Dish are giants. It’s amazing to watch them fuse different genres together while adding their own twists into the mix. John Digweed is another legend, and one of the nicest guys in the business. He’s a true gentleman and one of the smoothest mixers you’ll ever hear. His sets are always so advanced.”

One of the things about Guvernment was that you never knew who might show up. Prince was spotted many times. Harrison Ford took in a KoolHaus concert. Numerous Raptors’ players were said to be regulars.

“I used to love playing Skybar, on the rooftop,” says Oliver; “We did fashion events on Thursdays, with full-on fashion shows and a proper runway. One night I was playing, and Jamiroquai got up on the runway and started moonwalking in these gold Adidas trainers. It was completely unexpected.

“Another night, Mick Jagger had his 60^th birthday in Tanja, next to the Orange Room. The Stones were all there with their families. A lot of them came up into the DJ booth to hang out, and get up to some mischief.”

“Guvernment was always the highest standard of club in Toronto,” says Blu, who left the city for Miami in 2010 and now lives and works in Los Angeles. “Guvernment was an unstoppable force; there was nothing like it, and people knew about it all over the world.”

On the Skybar patio, circa 2007. Photo by André M Photography.

Who else worked there: No matter how high its production values or unique its rooms, Guvernment wouldn’t have been as successful without its teams of workers.

“I think it had a lot to do with the people Charles chose to work with,” says DJ Clymaxxx, now a star on-air mix show DJ at Toronto’s KiSS 92.5. “From management to staff, from DJs to promoters, Charles was able to identify people who shared his passion – and then let them do their job. That’s a great quality of successful leaders.”

“Charles knows what he’s doing, and has high standards,” confirms Oliver. “He attracts the best people in their fields. When you look at other clubs around town, most of the more experienced staff worked for him at some point.”

Case in point is Fatah and his Capture Group partner Ralf Madi. While Fatah worked The Drink in the late ‘90s, Madi promoted the Orange Room, main room and later produced the iDream events. The two met at Guvernment 16 years ago, and now own venues including Everleigh, Blowfish, and Maison Mercer together.

Chris Schroer and his now-husband Steve Ireson also worked together at Guvernment. Ireson – a nightclub veteran integral to venues including OZ, Go-Go, Industry and 5ive – promoted Boy’s Life and other parties at Guvernment while Schroer started as a busboy in 1998, and was later hired by Khabouth as a Creative Manager.

“It was my job to make sure the tech staff knew what was going on, that the go-go dancers were on time, that the DJs were feeling it, and the sponsors were happy,” says Schroer, who developed marketing ideas as well as concepts for décor and installations.

Former Guv Creative Manager Chris Schroer (right) with Frankie Knuckles. Photo courtesy of Schroer.

Guv lighting tech Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko (right) with his partner Jason Nardari.

Schroer, along with Jenn Woodcock, Alex Korittko and his then-new boyfriend Jason Nardari, came up with fresh thematic décor each Saturday for years. Guvernment’s longtime Technical Director Tom Doyle, early video artist Theo Buchinskas, and dance coordinator Pilar Cote also played integral roles in bringing Schroer’s installation ideas to life.

“Sometimes we would drape the entire KoolHaus in giant tank parachutes or white sheer curtains, and transform the whole space,” Schroer recalls. “We’d also come up with complete custom lighting rigs just for one night.

“Some of my favourite themes include the seven-year anniversary party when we chose ‘super hero.’ In KoolHaus, Tom installed a massive wall of par cans on stage. I worked with a comic book illustrator to create giant comic book panels about the Guvernment. Go-go dancers danced in front of video screens that projected videos of them, creating a feedback loop. In the main room, we installed a giant post-apocalyptic junk yard set, with about 20 used TVs embedded in pieces of twisted metal, with giant pipes steaming out fog. Capoeira dancers with big mohawks battled it out on stage, and Sofonda Cox did her impression of Storm from X-men. Deep Dish said it was their favourite installation at the time.

“Once we hung 300 candles from the ceiling of KoolHaus for a show with Frankie Knuckles and David Morales. Another time, I created a DJ booth out of scaffolding in the ceiling of the KoolHaus entrance that Sydney Blu played in. It was a little rickety, and Syd had to climb scaffolding in her heels, but she was a champ about it. Once, for a gay event sponsored by Benson & Hedges, we created a gold ski chalet themed stage set. I got our male go-go dancers to stage a fake porn shoot throughout the set, which was projected onto screens.”

Comic installation from Guvernment 7-year. Photo courtesy of Chris Schroer.

Schroer now co-owns Dundas West restaurant The Hogtown Cure with Ireson. Pilar Cote lives in Detroit where she DJs and makes music.

Both General Manager Peter Johns and Tech Director Doyle worked at Guvernment for its entire history, and at RPM before it. Doyle, who’s been in the biz for more than 30 years, having done lights and production for a variety of bands and worked at clubs also including The Diamond and Rock ‘n’ Roll Heaven, has an observation about Khabouth.

“The most shocking thing about Charles, compared to RPM’s management, was how much money he spent,” says Doyle. “The Guvernment’s lighting was very high end and quite advanced, compared to other venues, But I noticed over time that it didn’t matter how much lighting you have; if the music is not good, lights look like crap. Lighting enhances the music, and it should always be that way.”

Lighting techs working in a large club have a unique vantage point. While they’re matching lights, lasers and more to the music, they’re also paid to observe how crowds respond to the experience.

“Doing lighting at the Guv over the years, I have lived the evolution of EDM,” states Korittko, who echoes a point made earlier by Oliver. “Back when I started, it was all about the music and the experience. It was never about who was spinning, it was what they were spinning.

“In the last six years of EDM, clubs have had to change. To me, social media changed the purpose of clubs; they became [more like] concerts, with stage-focused lights, DJs placed front and centre, and huge video walls. It’s amazing to have been involved during this transformation and evolution of the scene. I will always remember and wish it was like when I started, but do embrace the change and future of lighting.”

Guvernment Technical Director Tom Doyle (left) with DJ Aristotle. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Guvernment Audio Tech Tim Cromey (left) with photographer Shaya Golbabaei. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

Both Korittko and Doyle also make mention of Audio Tech Tim Cromey.

“Tim was Mark Oliver’s personal DJ tech,” credits Doyle. “Tim set up all the DJ rigs for artists over the last eight years. He worked his ass off.”

As for Khabouth, he is quick to praise Jamil Kamal and his security team.

“Handling thousands of people who’ve been partying and drinking, and partying again can be a nightmare. For me, music was my number one focal, but security was right up there. Jamil has played a huge role. He’s shaped and secured a big part of what we do.”

Kamal is very aware of security’s heightened significance at a venue the size of Guvernment, and of the public’s mixed sentiments.

“Security is a hard job that’s not very appreciated,” Kamal acknowledges. “There were a lot of people who were very critical, especially of our search policy.

“We always had a lot of people, and wanted to get them in quickly and safely. The searching became a problem when people got more sophisticated in how they hid their drugs, which was also the time when GHB exploded in Toronto. The girls were taught to go behind the waistband of pants, and shake the legs if people were wearing baggy jeans, and to go into the bras. People complained because it became a much more invasive search, but we did it for people’s safety, not because the staff was ignorant or getting off on it.”

Now Director of Risk Management for all of INK’s properties, festivals and events, Kamal started at Guvernment very close to its beginning, and is quick to mention other door staff who worked at the club for most of its history, including Roy, Omar, Young-Ho (who opened his own martial arts training studio), and security manager James Hwang.

INK’s Director of Risk Management Jamil Kamal (left) with Charles Khabouth (centre) and longtime security staffer Roy (right). Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

“Most of the staff was there for quite some time – we figured an average of eight years – so it was very family like,” says Khabouth. “There were 250 to 300 people working every weekend. The Guvernment and KoolHaus employed 275 people. The last night we were there, we had 46 people doing coat check. There were 83 security staff. We had 42 bars. It was an army.”

Many of the people interviewed mentioned family-like connections. For some, the Guv literally led to family.

“I met my wife there when she was working cash part-time,” says Kamal. “Now we have three children. One son learned to ride his bike in KoolHaus.”

“Guvernment has been part of so many people’s lives for so long,” says Oliver. “There are people who went there pretty much every week for a decade or more. People have met, and then later gotten engaged there. Whole generations grew up at the Guvernment.”

“The Guvernment nightclub had people who went every week like it was church,” emphasizes Syndey Blu, who has toured the globe since leaving Toronto, and now has numerous projects on the go, including her debut artist album to be released on Dutch label Black Hole Recordings this spring. She returned to play twice at Guvernment in the last year, including a jammed Gallery reunion in January.

“I have lived all over North America now, and I still have never seen a venue as big, or with as many rooms, as Guvernment. It was an adult mega complex, a playground with the best music this city has heard.”

At Labour of Love, 2009. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

What happened to it: Unlike many nightclubs, Guvernment did not close due to lack of business. When it was made public almost a year ago that the 2.8-acre piece of property the complex sat on had been sold to a developer, there was shock. The club was packed every weekend, its influence still widely felt.

“The Guvernment set the bar in terms of sound, lighting and design in Canada,” states Rob Lisi, who went on to co-own Turbo nightclub, and created Benson & Hedges Goldclub series, which toured top international DJs across the country. After seven years spent working in Switzerland, he recently returned to Toronto to join INK Entertainment as Director of Marketing.

“Guvernment was the largest indoor nightclub, and the most successful nightclub in Canada, bar none. Guvernment was a must-play venue for the biggest DJs in the industry, while also giving local acts a stage to play on. It played a major role in supporting electronic music, and never changed direction on Saturday nights. It just evolved with the music, which is pretty remarkable. Many may scrutinize, but few can accomplish what the Guvernment was able to achieve.”

Unfortunately, Charles Khabouth was unable to buy the property. He did manage to get a year’s extension on his lease. INK went all out in booking many months of special events and top draws. The club’s closing weeks included names like Deep Dish, Danny Tenaglia, DVBBS, and Zeds Dead. The final weekend (January 23 to 25) featured Armin van Buuren, Knife Party, and Deadmau5 in the Guv’s main room, along with Manzone & Strong and Mark Oliver (KoolHaus closed out January 31 with a pre-Carnival performance by soca act Kes the Band).

Oliver, deservedly, got to play the final set inside Guvernment on January 25^th, partly due to the insistence of Joel Zimmerman a.k.a. Deadmau5.

“I remember the first time he came to the club; he wasn’t Deadmau5, he was Joel, and was keen,” says an appreciative Oliver. “He still is. Joel has a lot of respect for Guvernment, and for me.

“Closing night felt like a dream, mainly due to the amount of love and emotion in the club.“

Deadmau5 on closing night. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Mark Oliver with his new gold-plated decks on closing night. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

That night, before the Deadmau5 set began, Zimmerman and members of the Toronto Rave Community presented Oliver with gifts purchased as the result of a crowdfunding campaign: a framed gold record and pair of limited edition, gold-plated Technics 1200 turntables.

Oliver played on the decks that very night (“They won’t be sitting in a trophy case. I’ll be playing on them forever.”), as he rounded out the eve with an all-vinyl set, which kicked off with classic crowd favourites including “Give Me Love” by Alcatraz, and the Tim Deluxe mash of Layo and Bushwacka’s “Love Story,” featuring Julie McKnight’s poignant vocals from “Finally.”

“At 7am, the place was still packed,” describes Oliver; “It didn’t look like a single person had left the entire night.”

Oliver rounded out the final set with “A percussive techno version of “The End” by The Doors,” and a white label 12-inch that incorporates the melody from “Con te Partirò” by Andrea Bocelli. First though, Oliver’s son Declan sang the operatic pop song, translating to ‘time to say goodbye,’ a cappella.

“There were about 1700 people in the room when Mark’s son started to sing,” recalls Khabouth. “The room went fucking silent. 1700 clubbers silent at 7:15am. People were taken by it. They wanted to be there until the end. That was really touching.”

Khabouth then brought things to a close, playing the 15-minute Patrick Cowley mix of Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love.”

Closing night video by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

“Closing night was one of the most emotional days of my life,” says lighting tech Korittko; “It was like losing a family member. It was the first time I went down to the floor and danced in the middle with people who were customers, and had became close friends over the years. Toronto, North America and even the world have lost one of our best venues.”

Demolition of the Guvernment complex began in February, with much of the building now reduced to rubble. In its place will eventually stand a massive new waterfront development, with a mix of condos and office towers.

Demolition of the Guvernment complex, February 2015. Photo by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

Demolition of KoolHaus in progress. Photo by Kurtis Hooper.

(Kurtis Hooper has documented the tear down and demolition in detail. Visit here for more photos.)

Oliver has accepted the change, and puts the events in perspective.

“It’s nice to have had a beginning and an end, much like the sets we weave,” says the DJ. “It’s like the rave scene; I saw it grow from a very small number of people to 15,000, and now VELD [INK’s signature electronic music festival] has 60,000-plus people. To have been there from ground zero is quite special.

“I think it came full circle,” Oliver observes; “We were at the peak of the rave days when The Guvernment opened. Now, the rave scene has evolved, and there’s a whole new generation.”

The question becomes: where will this new generation now go to soak up electronic sounds in Toronto? There’s no single answer, of course, as there are many shades of electronic dance music. Deeper takes on house and tech have steadily risen from the underground to influence pop music (think Disclosure, Keisza) and EDM (David Guetta and Steve Aoki are now also producing deep house) alike, but there are new sounds and trends emerging constantly.

The range of venues we have in Toronto reflects this. Soulful spots like Revival and the Assoon brothers’ Remix lean toward house music’s warehouse roots. Clubs like CODA, Ryze, and, to some degree, Maison Mercer are homes for the underground and emergent, particularly on the house, tech and techno fronts. Spaces including Wrongbar, The Hoxton, and Mod Club are important, but more eclectic and event driven.

These venues, and others, may see some spillover as the more musically adventurous among Guvernment’s regulars venture to new spots. But in the end, Khabouth is most likely to maintain his audiences through the booking of established electronic music DJs at a variety of INK Events and INK-owned clubs, including Uniun, Cube, and Product. INK also partnered with Live Nation to co-present both the Digital Dreams (June 27) and VELD (August 1-2) festivals this year.

There’s no doubt about it – big beats are big business, and INK has top billing.

Tune! (2007). Photo by André M Photography.

“To be honest, nobody can take the talent that Charles has been booking because Talal and INK have such a lock on so many of the best DJs in the world,” says Fatah. “I don’t think another venue is gong to be able to steal their thunder. It will just be a temporary break.”

(For those keeping track of Toronto clubs-turned-condos, Fatah also revealed that the building Maison Mercer is in has been to sold to a developer, and will eventually open as a condo hotel. Maison’s lease is up in March 2016, though Fatah does expect an extension.)

Khabouth, who is set to open his own Bisha Hotel and Residencies where Klub Max once stood, is a notoriously restless businessman so it comes as no surprise that he has some other big plans.

INK now owns Polson Pier venues including Sound Academy (formerly The Docks), Cabana and Solarium. They will close on April 1^st for extensive renovations. Before the year is out, a brand new event space will emerge there, complete with new name.

“I want to give the city a state of the art, next level of both clubbing and concert venue,” says Khabouth. “I’m focusing on design, comfort, making sure we have better air quality, the smell in the bathrooms not being there, stupid little things.

“The sound is going to be awesome. We’re doing the best we can so that from anywhere in the room, you can see the DJ or band. We’re raising the floor in the back of the space. We’re looking at where people enter, and where they go. There are bathrooms in every corner. I’m looking at everything, including service. I want people to walk out saying ‘That was a great experience.’”

I’m told we can expect great innovation, both inside the club and out. Hint: you’ll be able to take in city views all year ‘round.

Khabouth has also spoken broadly of a massive club he hopes to open before the decade is out. Though this plan appears far from firm at the moment, it calls to mind something Mark Oliver said.

“There are so many great DJs coming into town, and huge demand for club music in Toronto. In the short term, smaller clubs should thrive as there will be 3,000 people out there that aren’t going to Guvernment. I think there will also be a huge club – even bigger than Guvernment. A lot of DJs who used to play Guvernment regularly outgrew it. Look at Armin Van Buuren, Avicii or Deadmau5 – they’ve had to go and play stadiums. I think a club that could hold 10,000 people could be busy every week.”

Only time will tell, but one thing is for certain: there will always be new generations of clubbers looking for places to call their own.

Thank you to participants Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko, Charles Khabouth, Chris Schoer, DJ Clymaxxx, Jamil Kamal, Manzone & Strong, Marcus Visionary, Mark Oliver, Sydney Blu, Rob Lisi, Tom Doyle, Zark Fatah, as well as to André M Photography, Elaine Quan, Kotsy, Kurtis Hooper, and Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

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

Article originally published February 12, 2013 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

The Ballinger brothers – owners of clubs including the Big Bop and Boom Boom Room – were not known for creating sophisticated spots. That changed with the chic, tri-level super-club that brought long line-ups to the Entertainment District in the early 1990s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Go-Go, 250 Richmond St. W.

Years in operation: 1990-1993

History: Though based in Toronto for less than a decade, the brothers Ballinger made a long-lasting impression. The “Rock ‘n’ Roll Farmers” from Dundalk were entrepreneurs who’d originally opened a variety of venues in Cambridge, Ontario in the late 1970s.

In 1986, Lon, Stephen, Doug, and Peter Ballinger opened the multi-leveled Big Bop club at Queen and Bathurst. The wildly popular hangout would anchor the southeast corner for over two decades, and was the cornerstone of the club empire the Ballingers would build. Their Boom Boom Room, opened at Queen and Palmerston in 1988, was much smaller in size, but was trendsetting with its mix of rock, alternative, house, and queer nights. With a few years’ experience in T.O. and a staff that was willing and able to bounce between venues, the Ballingers soon set their sites on 250 Richmond St. W. for an ambitious new venture.

Richmond and Duncan was not yet an obvious choice of location. After-hours club Twilight Zone had closed just the year before, and Charles Khabouth’s Stilife, located directly across the street, was showing signs of slowing. Beyond these venues, and after-hours rave destination 23 Hop, which would soon open at 318 Richmond St. W., the area was still largely deserted at night.

But with Doug Ballinger at the wheel, the brothers would develop a 14,000 square foot, tri-level warehouse building into one of the most innovative and influential clubs Toronto would experience in the 1990s.

“I had never met anyone as driven and excited about anything as Doug,” says DJ Mark Oliver, who was convinced by Ballinger to leave his residency at Stilife in order to spin five nights per week at Go-Go.

Ballinger custom-designed one floor—what would become known as The White Room—with Oliver’s forward-thinking dance music in mind. Above that would be the large Theatre Room, with a lounge to be built on the first floor, and a rooftop patio—among the city’s first at a nightclub—complete with water fountains and a barbeque hut. This was to be a very different experience from earlier Ballinger creations.

Go-Go manager Steve McMinn with Kim Ackroyd Oka on the rooftop patio. Photo courtesy of Ackroyd Oka.

“The previous Ballinger ventures had been built according to his older brothers’ specs and tastes, but now it was Doug’s chance to shine,” recalls Oliver.

“The Ballingers were all amazingly intelligent in their own unique ways,” says Boris Khaimovich, a Toronto nightclub veteran who worked at both the Boom and the Bop before becoming involved with the construction of Go-Go, where he would head security and, later, manage.

“They were a brilliant team,” describes Khaimovich. “Doug would conceptualize everything, Lon would find a way to finance it, and Steve would build it. [Writer’s note: Peter wasn’t as actively involved.] They were creative, and they were true club owners, with all of the eccentricities involved.”

Go-Go opened to a capacity crowd on July 13, 1990, with the photography of Floria Sigismondi on display.

Go-Go Member card. Courtesy of Jeremy Markoe.

Why it was important: Go-Go took the Ballingers’ tried-and-true multi-floor format to new heights. It was, at the time, their most ambitious and upscale club project, and its success influenced not only numerous future nightclub builds in Toronto, it also cemented the approach that the brothers themselves would later apply to their New York mega-club, Webster Hall.

“The Ballingers took a building and they made a different club on every floor, which hadn’t been seen here before, except at their Big Bop,” says the straight-shooting Khaimovich during a lengthy phone discussion.

“The Bop was a cash cow; it was like there was a money press in the basement, and they just kept printing it. The Boom was the Ballingers’ first attempt at getting into a smaller, more niche market club. Go-Go was a New York style club in downtown Toronto.”

Khaimovich had himself worked at a number of New York clubs, as well as at Toronto’s renowned Yorkville spot The Copa, during the late 1980s and was impressed by Go-Go.

“There was nothing like it here before. Up to that point, you had RPM, The Copa, The Diamond, and Big Bop as the only big-venue clubs in the city. RPM was in its decline, The Copa was allowed to get rundown, The Diamond did a lot more live music, and the Bop was basically college students getting shitfaced.

“Go-Go was the first club downtown that could easily hold a thousand people, and it was stunning. The lighting was spectacular—we had intelligent lighting—and the sound was solid. The staff was dressed up; they weren’t just wearing black T-shirts. Bodies were being shown, the male bartenders were dressed up, and doormen had to wear a suit and tie.”

Much of Go-Go’s success can be attributed to the club’s stark contrasts, including the aesthetic and feel of each different room. The first-floor lounge was intimate and warm, complete with a large wooden bar and windows looking out onto the street. The spacious second-floor White Room was bold and bright. It was entirely white—the walls, bars, DJ booth, bathrooms, statues, speakers, even the staff’s clothing.

The White Room. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd Oka.

“The White Room was a huge departure from any club of its time,” recalls Oliver, the room’s sole resident for a full year. “Everything was white. Back then, most DJ booths were stuck in a corner of the club. Doug, however, wanted me to be the focal point, so he had the semicircular DJ booth raised eight feet from the floor, and placed in the middle of the east wall.”

From his booth, Oliver would blend rare groove, disco, house, and early techno tracks. He recalls playing loads of early Strictly Rhythm singles, especially Logic’s “The Warning.” Other Oliver anthems heard in the otherworldly room included “Sweat” by Jay Williams, Nightmares on Wax’ “Dextrous,” Sweet Exorcist’s “Testone,” and another early Warp Records’ smash, “Tricky Disco.”

“That room had an ethereal feel to it,” Oliver recalls. ”Not only from it being entirely white, but also from the religious statues affixed to the bars. I could never tell my mum that I swore the Virgin Mary one had real eyes, and was staring at me from across the room all night. Perhaps playing five nights a week in there was a little too much for my sanity.”

One floor up was the Theatre Room, Go-Go’s largest space. During renovations, structural beams had been pulled out of the building and replaced, in order to raise this room’s already high ceiling by an additional six feet. The Theatre Room was painted a rich, dark burgundy, had faux columns on the walls, huge mirrors and multiple bars.

“Where the White Room was meant to be housey, cool and slick, the Theatre Room was meant to be heavy and pounding,” describes Khaimovich.

DJ James ‘St. Bass’ Vandervoort with bartender Michael Quintas. Photo courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

“The sound was amazing in there,” says James Vandervoort a.k.a. DJ James St. Bass, the Theatre Room’s main resident for Go-Go’s entire history. “There were two massive Electrovoice bass bins, which could knock all the bottles off of the bar. And did!”

Vandervoort, who’d gotten his start as a DJ at the Boom Boom Room, developed his skills and reputation spinning four-to-five nights a week in the raised corner booth at Go-Go. Like Oliver, Vandervoort had his ears tuned to the underground but, as St. Bass, he was also appreciated for his ability to entertain any audience. His crates contained loads of crossover faves, ranging from the likes of Prince, Deee-Lite, and RuPaul to MK’s “Burning,” Ce Ce Peniston’s “Finally,” 2 In A Room’s “Wiggle It,” and numerous Steve “Silk” Hurley remixes.

“I rarely took my eyes off the floor,” says Vandervoort of his approach. “I watched the crowd, to try and make ‘em scream! Your perfect mix and rare tunes don’t mean squat if no one is partying on the dancefloor.”

“I love James St. Bass,” enthuses Khaimovich. “To me, he’s one of the greatest DJs ever. He could make dead men dance because he had a desire to make people dance. There was no ego in James. When you had a combination of Mark on one floor and James on the other on a Saturday night, well you can’t beat that. It was beautiful.”

Initially open Thursdays through Sundays—Wednesday night’s infamous Go-Go Men would open that fall—Go-Go took a few weeks to build a steady clientele, and then caught fire. The Ballingers were also ahead of the curve in programming nights that would appeal to vastly different crowds, and it paid off. While weekends held more mainstream appeal and Thursdays were house-heavy, Wednesdays and Sundays would underscore Go-Go’s broad reach.

“One of my favourite nights was Fast Lane Sundays, with great rock in the Theatre Room, and house in the White Room,” recalls Steve Ireson, a longtime contributor to Toronto nightlife who started working for the Ballingers in 1991.

Flyer courtesy of Steve Ireson.

“I used to drive in from Hamilton every Sunday, before I started working at Go-Go. It was great for me, especially because my ‘straight’ boyfriend at the time was more of a rocker, and I loved both. Surprisingly, the two crowds mixed just fine.”

On Sundays, DJ Vania and host/co-promoter Kevin “KC” Carlisle rocked the Theatre Room. They were also the team behind Boom Boom Room’s wildly successful Sgt. Rocks Wednesdays, and brought the concept to Go-Go.

James St. Bass, K.C., and Vania in a Sgt. Rocks promo photo shot at Go-Go. Image courtesy of James Vandervoort.

“Working Sunday nights with Vania spinning was the place to be for me,” says Cheryl Butson, a Go-Go bartender for its full run. “Vania and lighting guy Jimmy Lynch did a great job of taking a big club room and giving it a real dark, underground feel.”

Like Ireson, Butson appreciated Go-Go’s versatility, and the variety of people there on Sundays.

“On one floor there would be house music, with people dancing and dressed to the nines, while on the next floor it was heavy rock, long hair, and leather jackets—with a total mix on the rooftop.”

The single-monikered Vania tells me he’s “remarkably hazy” about his many months of spinning at Go-Go, but especially enjoyed DJing in the more intimate setting of the lounge.

“Honestly,” says Vania, “I had my eye on New York, and wanted to get out of Toronto.” (He would relocate to N.Y.C. to work for the Ballingers late in 1991.)

Vandervoort, who brought the house to Go-Go’s White Room on Sundays, was also the anchor resident at the club’s other signature night: Go-Go Men on Wednesdays. He played in the Theatre Room while Oliver, who’d been a resident at Tazmanian Ballroom’s popular Rock & Roll Fag Bar in the late ’80s, DJed on the second floor.

Poster image courtesy of James ‘St. Bass’ Vandervoort.

Go-Go Men built on the success that St. Bass and host/promoter Steven Wong had had with Boys Night Out on Thursdays at the Boom, and would become Toronto’s biggest gay weekly. While Wednesdays took a few weeks to build, they would soon attract crowds of 600-1,000 party boys, fashionistas, warehouse heads, and women each week.

“The thing that gave Go-Go Men that extra boost was that Halloween fell on a Wednesday our first year, and everybody came out for that, in full costume,” recalls social butterfly Wong, then a costume designer and co-promoter of warehouse parties.

“It was very over the top,” he says. “People didn’t dress up in monster outfits or whatever. The thing to do was to emulate the supermodels and what was going on in fashion. If you were going out in drag, you were going out as Linda Evangelista wearing Chanel couture or something. At that point, vogueing and supermodels were very popular, and everyone wanted to be glamorous. Go-Go was very glamorous.”

Promo image courtesy of LAEddy

With visits from fashion-magazine editors, designers including Marc Jacobs and Michael Kors, and gay celebs including Elton John and Rupert Everett, Go-Go Men ran for more than two full years.

“Friends who worked in stores on Bloor Street told me that people would come in and buy special outfits just for their Wednesday nights,” says Wong, now half of womenswear label Greta Constantine. “They’d go in looking like a million dollars, only to get totally trashed.”

“I think Go-Go Men is where I developed my liking for tequila,” shares Ireson who, as a manager, had special duties required of him.

“I would have to help the hot shooter boys into their tequila-belt harnesses. I also have some fond memories of hot-tub parties on the rooftop patio. Go-Go Men was an absolute blast, with line-ups down the street.”

Go-Go, in fact, became notorious for long line-ups, then largely unheard of in the area.

“Go-Go was the first club to bring really big crowds,” states Khaimovich. “On weekends, we had lines all the way around to the CHUM building’s entranceway at Queen and John. Long-weekend Sundays were absolutely insane. We would open up at 8 p.m., and by then, a line-up five-or-six people deep ran to John.”

Hot dog vendors certainly took note.

“That was before all the licensing came in for their carts,” Khaimovich says. “We used to have hot-dog wars outside the club; they used to pull knives on each other, fighting for spots. We’d collect rent money off the hot dog guys for the club—they were making money off of our crowds. I was the head doorman, and worked with a very good-looking farmboy, named Owen Young, at the front door. One night, a hot dog guy didn’t want to pay the club so we took his cart, and put it in the middle of Richmond Street.”

Go-Go Bartenders Cheryl Butson (left) and Allan with cigarette girl Bastian. Photo courtesy of Butson.

Soon, with nightclubs like Klub Max opening around the corner, on Peter, Richmond was busy with traffic.

“Within two to three years, there were many clubs in the area, like Limelight and later Joker,” says Vandervoort. “But after Stilife, Go-Go was the place that anchored what would become the ‘club district.’ Even during the time we were open at Go-Go, I felt like I was living a lyric from Nina Hagen’s “New York New York”—“The newest club is opening up, the newest club is opening up…” Everyone wanted to try and repeat the success from the moment Go-Go opened, it seemed.”

Very few large, mainstream clubs would be such a hotbed for house, techno, and emerging sounds from the electronic underground. Vandervoort—by then also playing 23 Hop, warehouse parties and hosting his Harddrive mix show on CIUT—worked to “remain as cutting edge as possible for a mainstream club.

“I could drop Mike Dunn’s ‘Magic Feet,’ The Underground Solution’s ‘Luv Dancin’‘ or rave-y tunes like Psychotropic’s ‘Hypnosis‘ because I had seen people go nuts for them at underground parties.”

Oliver offers another window onto this exhilarating time in Toronto club history.

“A crew from Windsor showed up at Go-Go one night and handed me a stack of test presses from a brand new label called Plus 8. These early Richie Hawtin and John Acquaviva productions caused quite a stir. A revolution was bubbling under the surface in The White Room, about to explode two blocks away at 318 Richmond.”

Fired suddenly one late summer night in 1991 by “a well-lubricated” Lon Ballinger for not having Ballinger’s specific request on hand to play long after the club had closed (“he demanded I play a Stradivarius waltz.”), Oliver would take his record crates to 318 Richmond and help create local history.

“Leaving Go-Go was probably the most pivotal moment of my career,” says the DJ, now long synonymous with The Guvernment’s Saturday nights. “The following week, Wesley Thuro asked me to take over 23 Hop on Saturdays and, within a few short weeks, Toronto’s rave scene was truly born there.”

“Mark Oliver is one of the greatest DJs that this city has ever produced,” says Khaimovich. “Mark could see the future, and had an edge.”

Go-Go bartenders Michel Quintas, Cheryl Butson (centre), Kerry Mcinerney. Photo courtesy of Butson.

Who else played/worked there: After Oliver re-located, a then-unknown DJ, Kevin Williams, was hired to play Wednesdays through Saturdays in the White Room. It was his first club residency, and he came heavy with the house and hip-hop.

“Thursdays were my favourite,” says Williams. “They started off as a throwaway night—empty, especially in the White Room. Since I didn’t have anyone to play to, I would go through a stack of new house tracks, most of which I’d purchased that same evening from Play De Record.

“I met Abel Sylla—every house DJ’s fave dancer—and Kenny Glasgow, and they hung out. They helped spread the word, and in a period of four-to-five weeks, we emptied RPM’s disco nights, and brought everyone to the White Room. Not a single flyer was handed out.”

Many other bricklayers of Toronto’s house music community—like Nick Holder, Dino & Terry, Matt C, Peter, Tyrone & Shams, and Eric Ling—were soon seen at Go-Go on Thursdays.

“They brought me into the underground house scene,” credits Williams. “Prior to this, I had no idea you could go somewhere after 2 a.m.

“Go-Go Thursdays also brought a lot of different ethnicities together,” he points out. “The crowd was definitely a new urban mix of young club-heads-to-be.”

At a time when management at many large nightclubs would fully discourage DJs from playing hip-hop, Williams deftly mixed it into his sets.

“One busy Thursday, Steve Ireson came up to the booth during a hip-hop set,” Williams recalls. “Everyone was jumping up and down like kids in a bouncy castle. Black Sheep had already skipped twice, so I started the track over from the top. Steve asked me calmly, ‘Everything okay?’ and then asked matter-of-factly, ‘Hey, do you think you can tone it down just a bit?’ This was odd because he was very liberal, and never asked me to cut the hip-hop, so I wondered why. He said, ‘Well, I was just downstairs, and I can see the ceiling buckling up and down.’”

DJ Mark Falco was also a key resident later into Go-Go’s history. Having played at popular gay clubs like Komrads and Bar One, Falco was initially hired to work lights in the Theatre Room, complementing the sounds of St. Bass at Go-Go Men. Soon after, Falco would DJ in the White Room on Wednesdays, and eventually played his then-signature tunes, like Aly-us’ “Follow Me,” Kym Sims’ “Too Blind To See It,” and Liberty City’s “Some Lovin’” several nights a week until the club’s close.

Go-Go dancer. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd Oka.

“Standout Go-Go memories include Stephen Wong and Rommel doing runway in knockoff Mugler motorcycle corsets, and other White Room happenings,” says Falco, a sought-after DJ to this day. “I always loved that room on men’s night for the breakout bus-stop lines, and for the fierce vogue/runway action that would happen late at night.”

Vandervoort adds some cherished moments of his own, experienced at Go-Go primarily on Sundays.

“I met a lot of heroes, like Juan Atkins and Larry Heard a.k.a. Mr. Fingers, who was in on a Sunday night with Robert Owens. Roger S came and danced to my set!  And I had a great chat with Neil Tennant from Pet Shop Boys, who had a private party in the White Room one night after their concert. He came up to the booth and we chatted between mixes for half an hour. At one point, I said, ‘I think I have one of your favourite records here in my disco crate,’ and pulled out Nuance’s ‘Love Ride.’ He howled, and said, ‘You know, we based our whole first album on that track.’ You can’t ever forget what it’s like to have those kinds of heroes in your DJ booth.”

Go-Go busboys Jeremy Markoe and Dave Baker. Photo courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

But it was not all fun ‘n’ games for Go-Go DJs and staff. Working for the Ballingers could be challenging, by many accounts.

“So much of Go-Go was up and down—the stairs, the crowds, the fun, the not-fun,” admits Vandervoort. “Never for me before or since has a club so perfectly fit the cliché of ‘It was the best and worst of times.’ I knew I was fortunate to work so much but, also, if you worked there, you knew how many people came and went, and under what strange circumstances.”

“The Ballingers were notorious for firing their managers,” confirms Ireson. “I alone was fired three times—and hired back twice.”

“For all their faults, when they were sober, the Ballingers actually treated their staff spectacularly,” offers Khaimovich. “When they were drunk, they were erratic. If they kissed your forehead, you’d either get a raise or get fired. I was fired three times by them—twice hired back, the first time with a big raise.”

Go-Go bar staff Ian Bullen and Drew Rowsome. Photo courtesy of Cristy-Jane Byrom.

As evidence, many Go-Go staffers also worked at other Ballinger clubs, including original managers Mike Ibrahim, Anthony Rofosco, and Steve McMinn. Bartenders including Butson, Cristy Byrom, and Drew Rowsome also worked other Ballinger clubs, as did bar-backs Jeremy Markoe, Barry Gerreau, and “Super Dave” Baker. (Markoe even followed the Ballingers to New York, where he now resides.)

Many other members of the Go-Go staff became familiar faces on this city’s nightscape. Bartenders Daniel and Michel Quintas would later partner with Khaimovich to open Insomnia on Bloor, while Rosemary Martin and Holly Batson later worked at The Guvernment, and door man James Benecke opened both the Kat Club and Apothecary Music Bar.

Bartender Holly Batson at Go-Go. Photo courtesy of Cristy-Jane Byrom.

Most interviewed for this story mention that the Go-Go team was tight.

“Some of my fondest memories of Go-Go are of how we, as a staff, would go out all together after closing up,” recalls Ireson. “We’d show up at boozecans or warehouse parties as a crew.”

After Ireson was fired the final time, he went on to manage at clubs including Factory and OZ, where both Williams and Vandervoort would DJ, as well as 5ive and CiRCA. Go-Go alumni was hired at each venue. Ireson is now co-owner (with husband Chris Schroer) of deli-café The Hogtown Cure.

Vandervoort summarizes a statement expressed by many interviewees, albeit from a DJ’s perspective.

“I loved the first two years at Go-Go and had some of my best and most cherished nights there. It was also DJ boot camp—a total woodshed workout. I was very burned out and ready for a change when the end came, and I never worked exclusively in one club or for one owner ever again. It was definitely a case of all my eggs in one basket, and, trust me, they cracked!”

Despite requests, Lon Ballinger declined to comment for this story.

Steve Ireson (left) and Boris Khaimovich (right) with busboy David Baker.
Photo courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

What happened to it: “Go-Go was like a comet,” says Khaimovich of the club’s trajectory. “It came out of nowhere, was shining so bright that you would get blinded, and it died really fast.

“Go-Go started crashing within two years. We’d been doing such high numbers that I think everybody had seen it, done it, and moved on to something else. By that point, other spots had opened up.” (Khaimovich himself would go on to manage Limelight and now resides in Northumberland County where he indulges his love of horses.)

“Also, after about a year-and-a-half or so, the Ballingers started spending a lot more time in New York, on building Webster Hall. Their focus changed, and honestly, Webster Hall sucked the money. You could practically see suitcases leaving Go-Go and going to Webster Hall.”

Go-Go ad from 1992, courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

Attempts to revive Go-Go included painting the White Room and renaming it The Black Angel Room. The Ballingers’ attention was greatly divided. Not only had they purchased New York club The Ritz in 1990, and begun the massive undertaking of re-opening it as Webster Hall, they’d also bought The Courthouse on Adelaide East, and Mississauga all-ages club Superstars, which they opened as The World in June of 1992.

“The Ballingers were very aggressively building an empire, and I think they got spread too thin,” says Vandervoort, now a DJ who plays selective gigs, including the Black Crack Funk Attack monthly, and works by day in student support services at a city college.

“To their credit, they got what they wanted with Webster Hall,” concludes Vandervoort. “To my mind, that venture was built and financed off a lot of people’s blood, sweat, and tears at Go-Go and the Bop.”

Vania, who DJed at Webster Hall for its first six years, returned home in 1998, and now spins at venues including the Bovine Sex Club on Fridays.

“After seven years in New York with the Ballingers, it became a little wearing. But the last time I was there, they were getting keys to the city, and Webster Hall had been designated a historic landmark. Americans love a success story.”

Go-Go closed quietly in the summer of 1993. 250 Richmond St. W. soon re-opened as Whiskey Saigon where Go-Go veteran DJs including Oliver, Williams, Falco, and Vania all played. Joe Nightclub followed. The building now houses the head office of Bell Media’s Radio operations, including the studios of CHUM-FM and Flow 93.5.

250 Richmond Street W. in early 2013.

Thank you to participants Boris Khaimovich, Cheryl Butson, James Vandervoort, Kevin Williams, Mark Falco, Mark Oliver, Steve Ireson, Stephen Wong, and Vania, as well as Cristy-Jane Byrom, Jeremy Markoe, Kim Oka Ackroyd, and LAEddy.

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

Article originally published by The Grid online (The GridTO.com) on May 24, 2012.

In the early ‘90s, alternative rock was exploding overground, with the rave scene coming up right behind it. This beloved Adelaide Street club bridged these two movements together in a legitimate, licensed space.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Catch 22 Niteclub, 379 Adelaide W.

Years in operation: 1989-1997

History: While a five-year-lifespan tends to be a decent run for nightclubs in this city, some strike a nerve and manage to go it longer, thanks to an ever-evolving community of supporters. Catch 22 was such a venue.

Located on Adelaide near the corner of Spadina, Catch was slightly off the beaten path as it lay on the edges of the then-developing club district and was a few minutes’ walk south from Queen West. It was opened in November of 1989 by a group of friends—with Pat Violo, Lex van Erem, and Gio Cristiano at the core—in a former storage space on the building’s lowest level.

Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

“Lex van Erem had the space and wanted to build a restaurant, but I convinced him it wasn’t a good idea because of its location,” recalls Violo, who had been a manager at RPM nightclub. “I told him it best suited a nightclub. He liked the idea and asked me to be his partner.

“The original idea was to open a club that played only alternative music, and looked very underground. We wanted the music to be the focal point, and it was inspired by CFNY’s format.”

“We wanted to do something that Toronto was missing at that time,” adds Cristiano, a.k.a. DJ Gio. “Klub Domino was gone, Nuts & Bolts was gone, The Silver Crown was gone, so there wasn’t any more really cool alternative places. Thus, Catch 22 was born. We had our own style, and went from punk to techno, from rock to ska.”

Artist and star Catch bartender Suzette Cooper. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

Inspired by the open approach of revered alt club Nuts & Bolts, which had closed just the year before, Catch 22 had a similarly industrial feel. Customers entered through a steel door—having first passed by a painted mural of the Silver Surfer and a street-level caged window sometimes occupied by go-go dancers—and walked down into a mid-sized, L-shaped room. The long, concrete bar boasted a mosaic glass counter created by artist and star Catch bartender Suzette Cooper while the club itself was adorned in sheet-metal designs. This was the epitome of 1990s alternative chic, made more comfortable by seating areas, a pool table, and Catch 22’s notoriously friendly staff.

Front area of Catch 22. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

The club’s raised DJ booth and shiny, slippery stainless steel dancefloor—which, contrary to rumour, did not come from Nuts & Bolts—were focal points and its sound was crisp.

“The sound kicked ass and was specially designed for the place,” emphasizes Cristiano. “The lighting was crazy as well. I remember we had this robotic piece right in the middle of the dancefloor that would go up and down, and move side to side. It looked like the planet Saturn.”

Catch 22 dancefloor. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

 Why it was important: A decidedly underground dance club, Catch 22 was both influential and welcoming. A progressive approach to music programming lay at its core and, as a result, the crowds who came out were open-minded.

“Catch was full of people who were into alternative music—not goths, not rockers, but people who lay somewhere in the middle,” says Andy Gfy, an early Catch 22 customer who became one of its key staff, serving as doorman, bartender or Mr. Fixit as required. “The people who came to Catch came to dance. The crowd was no attitude; I never heard anyone making fun or teasing. Catch 22, to me, was a bunch of black sheep herded together.”

Andy Gfy (left) with Rob the lighting guy. Photo courtesy of Gfy.

Early on, the club’s programming included a punk Wednesday hosted and DJed by CIUT’s Mopa Dean, also the lead singer of the band Armed and Hammered, who frequently performed. The night later gave way to a long-running alt and industrial night DJed by Rono Box and hosted by Andy Gfy.

DJ Gio held down Fridays and Saturdays for some time. A popular and diverse DJ who also came to be known for his nights at The Phoenix and Klub Max, Cristiano had his ear to the ground. He and DJ Hanna epitomized the Catch approach with their Hell’s Kitchen Fridays.

“Musically, we covered a lot of ground, from psychedelic stuff to big beat, techno, jungle, grunge, alternative—anything and everything that was not getting played on the radio except for some stuff being played on 102.1 [a.k.a. CFNY],” says Cristiano.

Full disclosure: I took over Fridays from Cristiano and crew in October of 1993, when I launched and DJed the mixed queer alt night BENT, which ran for almost two years. I appreciate the men of Catch 22 to this day for their support of my programming ideas, which ranged from live bands to cabarets, leather parties to film-fest gatherings, queer community fundraisers and loads more.

The fashions at Catch 22 were varied. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

But the DJ who is most strongly associated with Catch 22’s early years and success is one Craig Beesack, a gifted club jock who would also become a beloved CFNY host. Beesack started off as the Thursday-night resident, working with infamous promoter Billy X, and was moved to Saturday nights in 1990. Cristiano had caught word that Beesack would soon host the program Warming Up the House on CFNY early Saturday eves—directly before Chris Sheppard’s infamous Club 102 live-to-air—and so the DJ would run from radio station to nightclub. He brought a sizable audience with him.

“That’s when the magic really started,” says Cristiano. “We got so slammed on Saturday nights. Mr. Beesack and his crew really made that place the best alternative the city had seen in a long time. I have so much respect for the guy. Craig played stuff from 1000 Homo DJs to Metallica, Testone to Bodycount, Stereo MCs and Nine Inch Nails. Everything was perfectly formatted and beat-mixed, if you can believe that.”

“Beesack was the man!” agrees Don Berns, who was then CFNY’s Program Director. “Craig was a totally unique DJ who combined industrial and heavier four-on-the-floor techno into a seamless mix that gave his night at Catch a unique flavor, and also made it very different from his weekly alt-rock night at The Cotton Club in Markham. His knowledge of the music, selection, and skills in playing it were the reasons I hired him to create Warming Up The House.

“I’m not a club person and have never enjoyed hanging out—except at Catch,” adds Berns, now an actor who also spins occasionally under his rave name of Dr. Trance. “Something about the underground vibe and the people there resonated with me. Catch 22 was the only club that had the vibe of a couple of underground NYC clubs I’d been to in the ’70s: dark, loud, cool people, cooler music.

“My friend Martin and I got into a pretty regular routine in 1990-91: spend Saturday night at Catch and then go to 23 Hop to continue the party with the Exodus boys. Once the raves got into high gear and we both joined the Nitrous crew, we eventually drifted away from that routine. But for nine months or so, Catch was an integral part of my social life. I would always discover interesting new music when Beesack was on the decks.” (Unfortunately, no one I interviewed for this story had a current contact for Craig Beesack and, as such, he could not be reached for comment.)

There was, in fact, a very pronounced overlap between some early 1990s alternative clubs in Toronto and the roots of what would become our massive rave scene. Catch 22 played an integral role, not only with the music its DJs played, but also by hosting electronic-music events that ran Saturday afterhours through to Sunday night.

Iain McPherson a.k.a. the pioneering DJ Iain who held residencies at clubs like Nuts & Bolts, OZ, and Limelight, and was a founder of the original Nitrous rave crew—initially came to Catch as a Saturday late-night rave DJ. He became the main Saturday club resident for most of 1993, playing a mix of alt, industrial, and new electronic dance music alongside friend and innovative DJ James Kekanovich.

“I think it was only natural that the early edgy production styles of rave music would find a sympathetic ear in the more open-minded audiences of alternative music,” says McPherson. “Despite its up-tempo disco underpinnings, the soundscapes of early rave screamed ‘Pay attention to me! I’m new, adventurous and often aggressive!’ How perfect for alternative crowds.”

Chris Twomey (left) with UK junglists DJ Kenny Ken and MC Fearless. Photo courtesy of Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch.

Not only did Catch 22 help introduce club-goers to new forms of electronic dance music—especially breaks, drum ‘n’ bass and techno—it also provided a licensed, stable space for raves when the scene was in its infancy.

Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch were both familiar faces at Catch. Ireton had worked at Cotton Club with Craig Beesack and followed him downtown to work as a Catch 22 bartender. Tulloch, a fan of industrial music, was a Catch customer from its first week.

They were the force behind a number of Saturday afterhours at Catch “on weekends when there were no raves,” Ireton and Tulloch tell me collectively by email. “There was only a rave every six weeks back then. No club or bar was playing rave music, and they were not willing to give up a weekend night, since they thought there would be no drinkers.”

Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch. Photo courtesy of them.

DJ Mark Oliver (left) and friend at Majic Mondays. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

The two were given Mondays at Catch 22. Majic Mondays were truly that, from the time they opened in September 1993 until the club’s closing in 1997. DJs Mark Oliver and Dr. No were the first to spin, but the line-up was different each week. Diverse local rave and EDM bricklayers like John E, Algorithm, James St. Bass, Tim Patrick, Mystical, Medicine Muffin, Terry Kelly, and Czech played alongside international guests who’d stayed in town after a weekend gig, including Mike Huckaby, Kenny Ken, Ellis Dee, L Double, and John ‘00’ Fleming.

“Majic Mondays was a gathering of music lovers of vast tastes and a wide range of ages,” share Ireton and Tulloch. “There was a community of people—all open to these new styles of electronic music. We were unique in that we didn’t just play one sound and Catch 22 was a unique venue for this music as it actually had a bathroom and running water—much more civilized than the warehouses that were being used for some of the raves!”

A collage of Majic Mondays flyers. Photo courtesy of Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch.

DJs who appeared at Majic Mondays. Photo courtesy of Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch.

Who else played/worked there: Catch 22 was home to a few generations of local alt DJs who would go on to break new music and set the pace wherever they played.

“The DJs that came through Catch were some of the most influential in Toronto’s alternative scene,” agrees Mike Mckinlay a.k.a. DJ Michael X, who played a mix of industrial, goth, new wave, new rock, and Britpop at his X-Isle Thursdays and Rip Rig and Panic Saturdays.

“Craig Beesak, DJ Iain, Rono Box, DJ Jürgen, Die J Mars—all of these guys were changing the music scene and upshot the levels of what was happening in the clubs. Catch was one step for them in their evolutions. The club kept their customers happy by always looking for something new or different.”

Die J Mars in the DJ booth. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

DJ Jeff Caldwell

DJ Jürgen held down Industrial Strength Thursdays with the late Martin Streek, and then on his own, after Mckinlay’s X-Isle concluded. Mars—a Catch Friday resident after me—moved to New York and developed an impressive career as DJ, producer, remixer, and fashionista. Jeff Caldwell a.k.a. Jeff C was a much-loved Saturday resident later in Catch 22’s history, while many other top alt locals, including Shawn Macdonald, DJ Shannon, DJ Dwight, and Paul Dhingra all made good use of the Catch booth.

Martin Streek (left) and friends at Catch 22. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

“You see, everybody wanted to be a part of that place,” states Gio Cristiano. “We had no problem finding talent. Everybody did it for the music and to give back to the scene. To this day, I really respect everything that everybody did at Catch; everybody was so different, but so, so good.”

“I remember walking in to Catch and finding guys like Marilyn Manson, Trent Reznor, and Pop Will Eat Itself in there,” he adds. “Also, many members of Cirque de Soleil when they did their first show in T.O. They hung out because they loved our bar and staff, especially Suzette. She was the best bartender in the city at that time.”

“Catch 22’s bar and door staff were legendary and wonderful,” adds McPherson. “The place had a lovely, comfortable, community vibe to it.”

Paul, a.k.a. Rave Master. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

Like many I spoke with, McPherson’s former DJ partner James Kekanovich makes special mention of Catch 22’s venerable doorman Paul a.k.a. Rave Master.

“Paul was the first touch point when entering the club, and his understanding of the scene being created there was an essential component to the experience. He was a familiar face and really knew the crowd.”

Staff would have to contend with only one big recurring problem.

“The dancefloor would go out of control when Ministry came on,” recalls Andy Gfy. “People just flew everywhere. Pat used to freak out about all the broken glass; the floor was covered in it. Eventually, it was decided that we couldn’t play Ministry or Rage Against the Machine between 12:30 and 1 a.m. [then last call in bars].”

Flyer for the final event, courtesy of Christy Washer.

What happened to it: In 1997, Catch 22’s owners found that the building’s landlord would not renew the lease. The club closed with a bash on May 31. 379 Adelaide West was soon renovated into the office building that exists today.

379 Adelaide St. W., as it appears today.

Pat Violo, in association with Liberty Group, opened infamous live-music bar and alternative dance club Velvet Underground at 510 Queen St. W. Many Catch 22 alumni can be found there, including Andy Gfy on bar and Paul a.k.a. Rave Master at the door.

There was a Catch 22 reunion party held last year, with DJs Mars, Jürgen and Jeff C, with talk of future events. A related Facebook group keeps the Catch community connected.

Thank-you to all those interviewed, as well as to Christy Washer and Tim Barraball for their contributions.

The post Then & Now: Catch 22 appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published November 2, 2011 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her nightclub-history series Then & Now, Denise Benson looks back at a mid-’90s raver mainstay that was so popular, it inspired a TV show.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: OZ, The Nightclub, 15-19 Mercer Street

Years in operation: 1993-1997

History: Previously known as Factory Nightclub, an early home to techno in Toronto, 15 Mercer Street was reborn as OZ, The Nightclub in March of 1993. Factory founder Skot Fraser partnered with Americans Jim Pici and Mike Hamilton to open the new fantasyland, with input from key event producers including DJ Iain, promoter James Kekanovich and Steve Ireson, a former manager at the Ballinger brothers’ influential club Go-Go who would soon become a core manager at OZ.

OZ attracted large enough crowds that it soon grew to include a lounge on its second floor and, after that, it expanded into 19 Mercer Street, where the “Emerald City” VIP area was built. By then, OZ contained three separate dancefloors spread across 20,000 square feet, giving it a capacity of roughly 1,200 people.

Why it was important: Venues of similar sizes started sprouting up in the early-to-mid ’90s, parallel to Toronto’s increasingly massive rave scene, but what gave OZ an edge was its creative staff—including Michael “Mychol” Holtzman and Douglas Barnier, who designed freshly themed décor and installations every few months—coupled with sophisticated sound and lighting, and thoughtfully diverse programming.

OZ bar. Photo courtesy of Luke Dalinda.

“Toronto had not seen this level of partying before or since,” says Ireson. “The people involved, owners and staff alike, were all pioneers and had a grand flair for fun, adventure and carrying on—to the extreme. We knew how to have fun ourselves and made sure everyone else did too. In its prime, OZ was open six nights a week and each crowd gave ‘er as much as the next.”

Tuesdays hosted a jam-packed all-ages night where DJs including Mark Oliver and Matt C solidified their followings. Wednesday nights were for gay men and friends while Thursday’s “Hell” was all about the rock; DJ Iain’s retro Fridays combined ’80s synth-pop with ’90s alternative, and equally popular Saturday night DJs Scott Cairns, James St. Bass and Chris “Cooley C” Cooley mixed dance music ranging from mainstream to underground.

“Thundergroove Sundays though, that was a real legendary night,” says Ireson. “We brought in the big-name house DJs before places like Industry and The Guvernment existed. It had the feel and energy of a warehouse party in a fully equipped nightclub, with a perfect mix of gays, straights, guys and girls. There were people in costumes and wild outfits, fire breathers, drummers and dancers, all with the thundering house music played by the best. I find it hard to put into words just how spectacular this night was.”

Photo by Alex D. of Tribemagazine.com

Debut issue of TRIBE Magazine, August 1993. Image courtesy of TRIBE founder/publisher Alex D.

Thundergroove—with resident DJ Kevin Williams and guests including Peter & Tyrone and Shams (who later became residents)—regularly drew crowds approaching 1,000 people. The night so impressed TRIBE Magazine publisher Alex Dordevic that he featured both Williams and OZ as cover-story subjects in the August 1993 debut issue.

“I spent a lot of time at OZ, mostly on Sunday nights for Thundergroove because that is where all the best DJs and a lot of the cooler bar staff in the city were on their night off,” says the man better known as alexd. “We came to unwind after the crazy illegal warehouse parties the night before. Below the booth or in the VIP bar area was the place to hang out, dance, and listen to one of the most technically perfect house DJs I have ever heard, Kevin Williams, spin exactly what he wanted to spin on a killer sound system. Kevin was unbelievable; his mixes were so good they would bring tears to your eyes.

“Then, every couple of weeks, you would get Peter, Tyrone and Shams spinning pretty much nothing but white labels and acetates, testing records out on crowds before dropping them on warehouse parties. We were like a family at Thundergroove. It was heaven. It was also an industry night, long before Industry.”

Photo by Alex D. of Tribemagazine.com

James St. Bass, an OZ Saturday night DJ and later one of the hosts at Thundergroove, echoes the sentiment.

“OZ was the most successful at having warehouse sounds and clientele in a relatively safe licensed club venue. If the Factory was Toronto’s first licensed rave club—as compared to [the unlicensed] 23 Hop—then OZ was one of the first to capture, I feel, some of the chaos and glamour of New York– and South Beach–style clubbing. There was lots of mixing—drag queens and thugs, bikers and ravers, all ages and all backgrounds—with shooter and cigarette girls working the room and everyone always striving to make it wilder, more fun and more outrageous. There were no shortages of hot messes on a good night at OZ!”

Finally, OZ played an important role in supporting Toronto’s burgeoning rave movement, which, by then, had caught the attention of mainstream media—and the law.

“It was a regular thing for us to receive a call on a Saturday night from the rave promoters looking for a place to bring their party after the police had shut down their event,” recalls Ireson. “We would close the club a bit early—bars stopped serving at 1 a.m. back then—rush people out, give the floor a quick sweep and re-open to the thousand people lined up outside coming from the rave.”

OZ dancefloor. Photo courtesy of Luke Dalinda.

Adryin in OZ’s Emerald Lounge. Photo by Alex D of Tribemagazine.com.

Who else played there: In addition to the ace locals mentioned above, dozens of top international house artists—including DJ/producers Tony Humphries, Frankie Knuckles, Oscar G and Roger Sanchez graced the booth while vocalists like Lonnie Gordon and Michael Watford performed.

“You would get the visiting house DJs like Louie Vega, Disciple and Pierre, who immediately felt at home in the booth with the old Rane MP22z mixer, and their sets were epic,” says Alex D. “This predates the ‘superstar DJ’ phenomenon, so there was no pretension, no attitude at all by these visiting greats, or from the people who came to hear them. You could get close to them—you could feel close to them and what they were trying to do.”

OZ on TV: OZ so captured the imagination of budding young television writer and producer Luke Dalinda that he taped the entire first season of his club culture series Dance Nation on location there in 1996. The weekly 30-minute program aired for three years on NBC in the U.S. (CHCH 11 for Season 1 in Canada). Its high ratings spawned related CD compilations, radio show and events back in the day, with a new season currently in development.

“Dance Nation was the underground alternative to [CITY-TV's] Electric Circus,” explains Dalinda by email. “We allowed DJs to play full sets and we recorded the first 13 episodes at OZ, which was Toronto’s foremost underground nightclub setting. Being at OZ allowed us to capture the essence of club culture at the time, with real dancers, breakers, DJs and incredible nightclub lighting. The reality dance shows of today cannot compare to the pure eye candy that OZ had featured every weekend.”

What happened to it: According to Ireson, “After an ongoing dispute with the landlord over rent, OZ shut down on New Year’s Day 1998 following a spectacular 36-hour event. We backed a transport up to the doors, stripped the club and loaded it all into the truck.”

Maison Mercer

15 Mercer Street would go on to host a variety of nightclubs, including the short-lived, unfortunately named Schmooze. It is now home to Maison Mercer (pictured above). 19 Mercer became high-end Asian fusion restaurant Rain. Owned and operated by the Rubino brothers, the fantastically designed resto closed in 2009; in September of that year, the brothers partnered with Charles Khabouth to open Ame, a restaurant and lounge that occasionally hosts intimate classic house events and the like. [Addendum: Ame closed doors in 2012. Khabouth opened Italian restaurant Buonanotte at the address in January 2013.]

The post Then & Now: OZ, The Nightclub appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published October 18, 2011 by The Grid online. It was third in the series. Given that Then & Now articles later grew in length and number of participants, the story of 23 Hop will be explored in more detail for the T&N book.

In the latest instalment of her nightclub-history series, Denise Benson revisits a dingy, graffiti-covered venue that had no signage and minimal lighting, but proved to be ground zero for Toronto’s early ‘90s rave scene.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: 23 Hop, 318 Richmond St. W.

Years in operation: 1990-1995

Why it was important: Like the Twilight Zone, 23 Hop housed a new musical vision in a part of town then filled with more empty warehouses than clubs. Key to the genesis of Toronto’s rave scene, the venue originally operated as an all-ages club owned by Wesley Thuro, who would go on to open The Bovine Sex Club (with Chris Sheppard and Darryl Fine) in 1991 and now defunct Annex barbecue joint Cluck, Grunt & Low in 2007.

In 1990, Thuro employed his sound and lighting business to great advantage at 318 Richmond (reportedly with backing from Sheppard). 23 Hop was a dark, raw warehouse space with no signage, but the sound, lighting and lasers were topnotch. It was thrilling to walk through the venue’s doors as it felt slightly dangerous and absolutely explosive. Chris Sheppard, later also known by the rave tag DJ Dogwhistle, was an original resident DJ, alongside Mark Oliver, D-Nice and Deadly Hedley Jones.

23 Hop photo by Chris “Space” Gray

“I used to go to high schools in the fall of 1990 and sneak up posters promoting 23 Hop,” recalls beloved Toronto clubber/dancer gOgO K’necht, then a promoter/publicist known as gOgO begOnia. “We didn’t have the word ‘techno’ yet so we called it ‘industrial dance.’

“There were black light–painted go-go dancers and lots of graffiti down a very long dark corridor and outside on the steps, but [the club played] the music that you couldn’t get anywhere else in the city,” recalls gOgO, who would go on to be an early columnist for TRIBE Magazine. “I’d just come back from three years of traveling in Africa, and Mark Oliver played tribal techno, which was the perfect music for me to dance to. The room was so dark and huge but I just closed my eyes. I had a whistle sewn into my dreadlocks. That was also a big part of the kids at the Hop: using whistles. I think they called themselves the whistle posse.”

gOgO K’necht photo courtesy of her

One year in, the all-ages approach proved conducive to fights breaking out, and the venue essentially became a rental hall and after-hours boozecan. One of the first to rent it out was Scottish ex-pat John Angus who, with Mark Oliver and Anthony Donnelly, started Exodus Productions. Arguably Toronto’s first rave company, Exodus did events at 23 each Saturday from Aug. 31 to Dec. 31, 1991, with house DJs including Dino & Terry and Peter, Tyrone and Shams on one floor while The Booming System Collective (Mark Oliver, Sean L, Dr. No and fellow UK ex-pat Malik X—the pioneering host of CKLN’s deeply influential Radio London program—brought hardcore, techno and rave to the main floor.

23 Hop photo by Chris “Space” Gray

“My first night [at 23 Hop] was pretty mind blowing; I people-watched for hours,” recalls James Applegath, driving force behind ‘zine and website The Communic8r, chronicling Toronto’s “golden age of raving” through lovingly detailed archives, including those at 23hop.com that helped make this profile possible.

“Graffiti wasn’t prohibited and the washrooms were unisex. Society and club norms were checked at the door. There were a lot of characters that frequented the spot.”

At 17, Applegath was initially nervous to enter 23 Hop’s doors. Once he did, he and friends spent every Saturday night there for the next four months.

“Those nights ended up shaping my life for the next 15 years,” he shares. “I promoted raves, published a mag about them, was a partner in Buzz [now The Comfort Zone], managed Industry for three years and then co-owned NASA on Queen Street.”

Morning outside of 23 Hop. Photo by Chris “Space” Gray.

Who else played there: I couldn’t even begin to list all of the Toronto house, techno, rave and jungle DJs who poured out newer-than-new sounds at 23 Hop over this five-year period. It was a highly localized scene, with Oliver and the DJ/MC duo of Malik X and Dr. No remembered as favourites. DJs Ruffneck and Jungle PhD also brought early breakbeat to T.O.—playing at early ’90s Sykosis events—while Kenny Glasgow and Matt C played there well before they went on to open Industry. By 1993, following the Exodus and Sykosis parties, promotions crew Pleasure Force held down Friday nights at 23 Hop. Titled The Rise, these nights featured locals including John E, Danny Henry, David Crooke and MC Captain B Mental alongside occasional international rave DJs flown in to perform at the huge Pleasure Force raves that took place elsewhere.

318 Richmond St. West as parking lot, pre-construction

What happened to it: 23 Hop closed in the summer of 1995, by which point Toronto’s rave scene was massive and heavily commercialized. Soon after 23 Hop closed, the building was heavily renovated to become popular mainstream club The Joker. It was later demolished and has since been turned into a parking lot. Today, it’s under development to become a 39-storey condo dubbed Picasso.

Memories: Audio

MALIK X, Live at 23 Hop in late 1991: Side A & Side B (this cassette tape is the “earliest complete recording of a rave in Toronto,” according to James Applegath.

Exodus Techno Anthems of 1991

Memories: Video

There is no known video footage taken inside 23 Hop, but writer/director Colm Hogan includes Toronto’s early techno/rave days in his documentary Sketched Out, The Movie chronicling different local underground music cultures. Here’s a segment featuring an interview with John Angus of Exodus Productions:

The post Then & Now: 23 Hop appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.