Article originally published February 1, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her ongoing nightlife-history series, Denise Benson looks back at the notoriously decadent late-’80s dance club that brought metalheads and rap fans together, installed a hot tub and cages on the dancefloor, and effectively brought the “queer” to Queen West.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Boom Boom Room, 650 ½ Queen St. W.

Years in operation: 1988-1993

History: One cannot discuss this city’s nightlife history at any length without mention of the brothers Ballinger: Lon, Stephen, Douglas and Peter. The self-described “Rock ‘n’ Roll Farmers” from Dundalk, Ontario ruled the roost in mid-to-late-1980s Toronto. In 1986, they converted the former Holiday Tavern at Queen and Bathurst into The Big Bop, a multi-floor rock and dance club that packed in the student crowd. Its success paved the way for future Ballinger club endeavours, including Go-Go, Rockit and, at the northeast corner of Queen and Palmerston, Boom Boom Room.

Previously, 650 ½ Queen West was home, at street level, to live blues venue The Pine Tree Tavern, with a hotel above. In 1988, the Ballingers bought and renovated the building, turning the upstairs into Hotel Heartbreak—a hotel-cum-rooming house announced by a big, bold neon sign—and the downstairs into a “Rock ‘n’ Roll Danceteria” that was far more intimate and edgy than their other club efforts.

Saturday night resident DJ Mr Pete (left) with Vince and Trish. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

Boom Boom Room was well suited to its surroundings. In the late 1980s, Queen west of Bathurst was still the great unknown—wild and peppered with unique possibilities thanks to then-affordable rent. With the newly opened, artist-owned Mexican restaurant La Hacienda a couple of doors down (and the Bovine Sex Club not yet in existence), Boom Boom Room became Queen West’s new meeting place for punks, metalheads, fashionistas and assorted nocturnal creatures of all genders and orientations.

The Ballingers chose a rugged and raw aesthetic, with metal and exposed concrete at the core of their 350-capacity space. The entrance, made of prison-cell bars, led to a catwalk lined by highway guardrails. From there, one could play voyeur and watch people dance on the floor below or—after it was added a year later—in the showpiece metal “go-go cage” found directly across. The infamous raised DJ booth was hell to access—up a tall, vertical metal ladder—but provided incredible sightlines once records were lugged up.

DJ James ‘St. Bass’ Vandervoort. Photo courtesy of him.

“The space was unlike anything I had seen before: all concrete and metal and sparse, but with a killer sound system,” recalls James Vandervoort, who originally worked lights, and later earned his DJ stripes and alias of James St. Bass at the venue.

Vandervoort also recalls the “the family vibe” of the Boom as managers, DJs and other staff who worked in Ballinger-owned venues hopped between clubs as needed. Many of them also lived upstairs in Hotel Heartbreak.

“It was chaos some nights,” Vandervoort exclaims. “With the Big Bop, Boom Boom and Go-Go all built and opened over a few years, all of the staff was tried out in all the club combinations.”

Boom staff and friends hang after hours. Photo courtesy of Sofie Weber.

Why it was important: Boom Boom Room brought a diverse clientele further west along Queen, largely thanks to its staff and quality music programming. The two original resident DJs—Vania and Richard Vermeulen—were key. Vania and host KC were the forces behind hugely popular Wednesday weekly Sgt. Rocks, arguably the first club night in Toronto to mix metal with alt-rock and hip-hop.

“I was always at Sgt. Rocks because it was a great party, filled with biker-style dudes and hot rock ‘n’ roll girls,” says Vandervoort. “This was at the best time for ’80s hair rock—think Guns N’ Roses, Faster Pussycat, Jane’s Addiction and The Cult circa Sonic Temple—but Vania mixed it up and played Public Enemy and other hip-hop to the rock crowd, too. They loved it!”

Sgt. Rocks flyer courtesy of James Vandervoort

Boom Boom Room promo courtesy of Tim Barraball

For much of the Boom’s first year, DJ Richard Vermeulen worked its booth Thursday through Saturday. He had developed a strong following while resident on Tuesdays at early Richmond Street hotspot Stilife, and had a wicked way of blending rock, funk, disco, acid house and more.

Vandervoort became St. Bass—and inadvertently helped lay the foundations for “Queer West” beyond Bathurst—in 1989, charged with the task of drawing a larger audience on Thursdays. A queer rocker boy with a big love for Toronto’s after-hours house scene and clubs (including Twilight Zone and Tazmanian Ballroom), Vandervoort began playing a blend of house, disco and exclusive British 12-inches, sent to him by friends who had moved to London. Not surprisingly, the night packed up with a fashion-conscious crowd, including a lot of gay men. Re-branded Boys Night Out, Thursdays became a Boom signature night.

“Guys were coming down to Queen and Palmerston from Church and Wellesley. We were attracting major numbers of queers out of the established clubs in the Village, which had not happened before to my knowledge,” says Vandervoort. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything vis-a-vis Queen West versus Church Street, but Boys Nite Out did prove there was gay club life beyond the gay ghetto.

“I’d like to think it was because of the music,” says the man who went on to helm CIUT’s popular Hard Drive show. “I was packing the floor with sounds like [A Guy Called Gerald's] “Voodoo Ray,” E.S.P.’s “It’s You,” and all the Ten City records I could get. Thursdays grew quickly to become the busiest night, and I learned to mix as I went along.”

It didn’t hurt that the night also featured hosts including Stephen Wong—now half of fashion house Greta Constantine—and “untraditional boys in underwear doing their thing” as go-go dancers in the caged catwalk.

“Most famous was Noam Gonick, now a hip queer filmmaker based in Winnipeg, who dazzled with outrageous drag outfits and fetish gear, and really took the night over the top visually. The first night Stephen Wong sent him into the cage to dance, Noam cut himself to shreds on all of the sharp metal and unfinished edges. The whole space was dangerous that way; we are all scarred from the booth, stairs and that catwalk,” Vandervoort recounts.

James St. Bass soon DJed Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, leaving to become a resident at Go-Go in 1990. So began phase two of Boom Boom Room, marked most obviously by the sale of the club business to Steve McMinn, a manager at both the Boom and Go-Go, and his then-girlfriend Kim Ackroyd.

Kim Ackroyd (far left) with Tim, Manny, and Scott circa 1991. Photo courtesy of her.

“Our first six months consisted of throwing lots of parties, fashion shows, cirque, music performances, piercing-and-tattoo demonstrations—basically exploring what worked in the space and what didn’t,” Ackroyd recalls.

“We found that the neighbourhood itself was very diverse and therefore it made sense that the club should be. Within a year, we had five strong and very different nights, with hard rock on Wednesdays, a boys night on Thursdays, Dyke Nite on Fridays, a more suburban rock night Saturdays and industrial on Sundays.”

Denise Benson circa 1991.

Full disclosure: I was the DJ and promoter of Dyke Nite, which ran from 1991 to 1993. It remains a highlight of my DJ career, both because the Boom was where I really began to blend rock, reggae, rave, hip-hop and house, and because early ’90s dyke-and-queer culture was expressive-to-the-point-of-explosive. With full Boom Boom Room support, we featured early evening experimental film screenings, readings by the likes of Sarah Schulman and Alec Butler, community fundraisers, concerts by Ani DiFranco, hot-tub parties and more. The club’s catwalk and cubbyholes were put to good use, with the night’s vibe captured in Excess Is What We Came For, a short film made by Kathleen Pirrie Adams and Paula Gignac.

“Back then, it felt like we were just throwing some really fun cool parties, but in hindsight, there was a social revolution going on, especially on Dyke Nite,” says Ackroyd. “We were pushing all kinds of boundaries and sailing in uncharted territory. We provided space for people to express themselves, to find their voice. It was a beautiful thing.”

“Imagine Cheers with a clientele of goths, punks, freaks, rockers, gays, lesbians, preps and glam all rolled into one room,” summarizes Michael X Mckinlay, resident DJ and mastermind of the wildly popular Sunday Night Asylum from 1989 to 1993. “You didn’t need to go elsewhere.

“The Boom was a very unique venue, both in operations and in appearance,” says the DJ, then also known for his events at venues including Nuts & Bolts, Catch 22 and The Phoenix.

“Steel cages kept you separated from the go-go dancers but, once the dancers had left, the cages were yours. Being a narrow, two-storey club had its drawbacks, but over all, the Boom lived up to its name—boom!”

Michael X Mckinlay, on Big Dan’s shoulders. Photo courtesy of Sofie Weber.

Who else played/worked there: “One real benefit of the Boom was the diversity of its DJs,” asserts Mckinlay, himself known for mixing the likes of Prince with Rage Against the Machine, Sisters of Mercy and Apotheosis’ “O Fortuna”… before closing it all out with some John Denver.

“You had crossover-play between the DJs, but they were really unique and had different styles and followers,” says Mckinlay. “We were allowed to play what we wanted and weren’t held back by a ‘club theme’ or a prerequisite style.”

Some of the other core DJs who played during different periods included Mark Oliver, Matt C, Jason Steele, DJ Iain, Shawn MacDonald and DJ Dwight. Louie Palu, now an award-winning documentary photographer, and DJ Joe held down Sgt. Rocks together as “DJ Joe Louie” after Vania departed, while Mr. Pete rocked Saturdays for years. When Mr. Pete split, a Boom bartender named Shannon got her DJ start by taking the helm on Saturdays.

DJ Shannon at the Boom. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

“I’ve been so influenced as a DJ by the Boom,” says DJ Shannon, now a 17-year-strong resident at the Dance Cave. “There was no holding back on the dancefloor as we played for open-minded people who loved all kinds of music. I like to think I’ve been keeping the flame alive all these years. I miss that bar so much; I’d say it was my favourite haunt back in the day.”

Boom bartender Deanna. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

Many other creative Torontonians lent their skills to the Boom, including promoter Steve Ireson (he went on to manage at Go-Go), bartenders Julian Finkel (now owner of Model Citizen in Kensington Market) and Michael Schwarz (now an owner of Insomnia on Bloor), tattoo artist Mikey and fashion designer Deanna, a Queen Street darling now also known for her years of bar service at the Bovine.

Boom staffer Mikey. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

Boom doorman Richard. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

“We were lucky that our core bar staff were very talented people,” says Kim Ackroyd. “We had fashion designers, DJs, tattoo artists, musicians, and graphic designers working as bus-people, bartenders, wait staff and doormen. Our success was heightened by the dedication of the staff who contributed more than what they were hired to do.”

Most memorable moments: Deanna, who worked in various capacities from 1988 to 1993, cites the club’s hot-tub parties; setting things on fire while serving customers; the time actor Doug Bradley (a.k.a. Pinhead in Hellraiser) judged a Halloween contest; and the opening of Dyke Nite in 1991.

“The very first Dyke Night was so fucking busy we had to hire another busser on the spot,” she shares. “That night, we had more than 500 people through the door; the bussers had to walk outside and around to the front door to service the front bars. You couldn’t move in there.”

Dyke Nite ad. Courtesy of Denise Benson.

“The girls had some pent-up energy that they let loose,” deadpans Ackroyd, who also recalls visits by Madonna’s dancers and crew during the Blonde Ambition tour stops and “some things I just can’t share. Sex and drugs and rock and roll…”

“In today’s world, if asked whether I had any fun stories of the Boom Boom Room, well, it would be considered NSFW,” agrees Mike X Mckinlay. “Let’s just say that having a hot tub in the middle of your dancefloor can create an intimate experience for you and some friends. Oh yeah, pool tables are great too. So are elevated, virtually inaccessible DJ booths.”

What happened to it: Most people I spoke with say Boom Boom Room closed near the end of 1993, while a few suggest early 1994 feels more like it. The crowds had thinned by then, but long-time staffer Deanna also recalls that, mysteriously, the Ballinger brothers still held the liquor license and let it lapse. The brothers opened New York mega-club Webster Hall in 1992, and own it to this day.

Hero Burger at 650 Queen West

Later in the 1990s, Boom Boom Room became intimate rave haven Fat City—owned for a stretch by Steve Ireson and Mychol Holtzman. The venue then became the uniquely (some might say “bizarrely”) decorated Volcano Room, owned by Michael Sweenie who would later open Andy Poolhall on College Street. In 2005, it opened as a Hero Burger, with the Hotel Heartbreak sign still found above. The one time I visited the washroom there, the Boom’s original corrugated steel doors were still in place, as was the club’s lower level concrete dancefloor. Take a wander, and imagine for yourself.

The post Then & Now: Boom Boom Room 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.