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 16, 2011 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her nightclub-history series Then & Now, Denise Benson looks back to a time when Toronto nightlife orbited around Yonge and St. Joseph thanks to early ‘80s after-hours haunt Voodoo, which brought goths, gays and fashionistas together—only to be brought down, ironically, by Jack Layton.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Voodoo, 9 St. Joseph

Years in operation: 1981-1985

History: To discuss this deeply influential alternative after-hours club space is to delve into a history of Toronto nightlife that was anchored around St. Joseph Street and the surrounding area from the late 1970s through the mid-’80s. It’s a history of emerging sounds and fashions, diverse sexualities and late-night community—all played out in a city centre then becoming increasingly residential.

Before Voodoo opened in August of 1981, the original Domino Klub on Isabella was home to punks, rockers and gays alike; there were boozecans along Yonge (most notably on the corner of Maitland Street, above vital clothing store South Pacific); and the addresses 5-9 St. Joseph housed rock bar The Forge at street level, with disco club Bellows above. St. Joseph was a key street for Toronto’s growing gay community; The Forge space became famed gay dance club Katrina’s, with neighbouring homo and mixed social spaces including Le Tube, St. Joseph Café, Stages and Club Manatee.

Against this backdrop and above Katrina’s, Michael Gallow opened unlicensed, after-hours dance club Voodoo. He and DJ Dave Allen had already been involved in promoting Domino Klub and “a series of after-hours uptown warehouse events,” but wanted “to create our own environment for the emerging fashion/music culture of the late ’70s and early ’80s. The theme of the club was—as stated on the brass plaque at street level—‘Metal Music in the Modern Jungle.’”

JenniferG, JCAndrew, Davidson. Photo courtesy of Jennifer Gellatly.

Voodoo was open Friday and Saturday nights from midnight to dawn, with occasional fashion shows, concerts and other special events taking place before the dancing began (or on different nights of the week). The approach was low budget, with most areas painted fully black amid a minimalist lighting system. No matter. The creative people who partied there—it may have been unlicensed, but plenty of patrons snuck in booze and other “party favours”—added colour to a club where the main door policy was “no blue jeans.”

Lighting man Danny Regan (left) with DJ Dave Allen at Voodoo. Photo courtesy of Roy Paul.

Why it was important: Voodoo opened at a time when most licensed bars closed at 1 a.m. and crackdowns on boozecans meant that late-night dancing was mainly limited to gay discos. Voodoo added greatly to the musical soundscape of the day and became a hub for the fashion-minded, sexually adventurous avant-garde. Internationally renowned shoe designer Patrick Cox was Voodoo’s first doorman/greeter and many staff members were immersed in new design and music forms.

“The uniqueness of Voodoo was its street-level vibe,” says owner Michael Gallow. “David Allen and Danny Regan [Voodoo’s lighting man] were part of the street scene in the neighbourhood and always kept everyone aware of happenings at the club. It was a very welcoming home for all those creative and fashion-forward individuals in the city. Many of the regulars were experimenting not only with their look, but their sexuality and relationships.”

Michael Sweenie and Isabel Moniz. Photo courtesy of Michael Sweenie.

“I was a Voodoo regular and the inclusive attitude of the place is what made me dream of opening my own bar or club,” says Michael Sweenie (pictured above getting ready for a night out), now owner of Andy Poolhall on College Street. “Your sexuality was not what defined you at Voodoo, just the love of music and an individual fashion style or sense. It was also the first place I ever saw with washrooms that were gender neutral; there were just as many guys doing their makeup in the mirror as girls.”

Voodoo was a key place to hear bold new sounds pouring out of Europe, America and Toronto itself. Music not heard on the radio had a home here.

“I think Voodoo really made dance clubs that came after more open musically,” says Sweenie. “It brought new wave, punk and the New Romantic scene into other clubs that usually played disco only.”

Michael Scott. Photo courtesy of Jennifer Gellatly.

“Voodoo revived the post-bar dance scene and laid the groundwork for many of the late night places that came along,” Gallow summarizes, mentioning Biorhythm, Catwalk and Twilight Zone, of which he speaks highly.

“I always think of the Twilight Zone as the yin to our yang,” says Gallow. “They helped introduce the emerging New York dance scene to the diverse people who were settling in Toronto from around the world. Our focus at Voodoo was very European and fashion-driven.”

DJs, such as myself, who came up playing in the alternative clubs of the mid/late-’80s owe a great deal to Voodoo and its legacy.

Ryan Carleton and Danielle Gellatly. Photo courtesy of Ryan Carleton.

“Voodoo was the club that opened my mind to both the culture and music that was exploding in the underground at that time,” agrees Iain McPherson a.k.a. DJ Iain, a Voodoo regular who brought that influence with him as he got his start spinning at 1980s alt-club Nuts & Bolts. “Voodoo was groundbreaking and unique. It was unlike any of the mainstream clubs of its time or even the more ‘traditional’ underground clubs that followed.”

Todd Trepanier. Photo courtesy of Tracy Graham.

Who played there: “Dave Allen was the spiritual soul of Voodoo,” says Michael Gallow of the DJ who shaped the club’s soundscape. Gallow may have purchased much of the club’s music—at the original Record Peddler, natch—but Allen broke ground with what he chose to highlight. He didn’t mix the songs—unlike jocks at Biorhythm and Twilight Zone, for example, who beat-matched—but Allen played the music first.

“In my mind and, no doubt, all those who were fortunate enough to experience it, Voodoo was the first truly modern, post-disco ‘underground’ music venue,” writes McPherson.

Rob Wheaton, Jennifer Gellantly, Stephen Butson. Photo courtesy of Jennifer Gellatly.

“Dave Allen was a truly fearless DJ. One of my favourite memories is the week that Simple Minds’ New Gold Dream album came out. Dave got on the mic at the height of prime time and announced, ‘This is the new Simple Minds album,’ put on side A and let it play straight through—while he joined everyone on the dancefloor. When the side came to an end, he ran back up the booth, flipped over the record, made a typically cryptic announcement, ‘Side B!,’ and played it through non-stop. The dancefloor remained packed throughout. Such was the adventurous, wonderfully musically open-minded nature of the crowd. This was a special venue at a special time in music. And we couldn’t get enough of it.”

Tracy, Dave, Danny. Photo courtesy of Tracy Graham.

Voodoo also hosted fashion shows by Parachute Clothing, concerts promoted by The Garys (including A Certain Ratio, John Cooper Clarke, DNA, and The Professionals), and even plays like the Dora Award-winning musical Sid’s Kids. Cutting-edge guests often visited the club.

“We had an excellent relationship with visiting bands and hosted great parties with Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, Adam and the Ants, New Order, Flock of Seagulls, and others,” recalls Gallow. “In that sense, Voodoo was a great symbiosis between the music and fashion biz.”

Sadly, despite the fact that CKLN 88.1FM broadcast Radio Voodoo live from the club for many months, I couldn’t locate any audio or video recordings to share.

Terri on New-Years Eve. Photo courtesy of Tracy Graham.

What happened to it: Voodoo closed its doors on February 2, 1985. The area had become increasingly residential and neighbours were unhappy with the late-night revelry. Many venues on St. Joseph faced fines, noise complaints and challenges over issues like not providing enough parking for customers.

“Interesting to note that our main adversary was Jack Layton, then the local Alderman,” says Gallow. “I understand his position in hindsight—he was acting on behalf of his constituents—but there were some acrimonious meetings about our existence. I felt that the energy that had driven the club was dissipating and it was better to go out on a high note.”

Gallow also opened trend-setting (and licensed) lounge/restaurant Century 66 at Yonge and Charles, and now owns marketing agency Benchmarx Data Services.

5 St. Joseph, November 2011, mid construction. Photo courtesy of Steve Ireson.

Soon after Voodoo’s close, 9 St. Joseph opened as Backstreet, which drew a similarly mixed clientele, while Katrina’s continued downstairs at 5 St. Joseph. These addresses later went on to house a number of gay and after-hours spots, including Colby’s, Brooklyn and 5ive, with Level 3 Fitness also holding the lease at number 9 for years. Today, the entire corner of Yonge and St. Joseph is under construction to become FIVE Condominiums.

“It is fascinating to see the space today,” Gallow says. “The huge metal structure securing the building’s facade is worthy of a photo essay. The whole district was zoned for condos back in 1984 and guess where we are today. I doubt anyone who buys there now will have been a nightly visitor back then, but how romantic a notion if they were.”

Thank you: to all who shared your thoughts and photos. Thanks also to Carlos Mondesir, David Heymes, Jill Cribbin, Kiki a.k.a. Kaos Theory, Steve Ireson and the members of Facebook group Voodoo Club Alumni for your input.

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