Article originally published March 26, 2013 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

In its brief lifespan, this ‘70s hotspot served as both a gay disco and punk-rock haven—before it all ended in a mysterious fire and murder.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Club David’s, 16 Phipps

Years in operation: 1975-1977

History: The allure that the Yonge and St. Joseph area once held for creatures of the night has been detailed in a number of previous Then & Now pieces, including those about early 1980s venues Voodoo and Club Z. Here, we visit a prior decade to travel a short distance south, down a once-existing strip of the St. Nicholas alleyway, to a barely-there street called Phipps.

Moving and storage company Rawlinson Cartage constructed the building at 16 Phipps in the late 1890s. A small tunnel, thought to once hold a conveyor belt, connected it to the building directly north, at 11A St. Joseph. As with a number of neighbouring structures, it was also erected by Rawlinson.

In the early 1970s, 11A St. Joseph was home to popular all-ages gay male dance club The Manatee. Nearby Yonge Street bars The Parkside Tavern and St. Charles Tavern were gay hotspots, as was intimate Isabella Street disco Mrs. Knights.

Club David’s added new possibilities to the mix when Jay Cochrane and Sandy Leblanc opened it in the spring of 1975.

Image courtesy of Wendy Peacock.

“Jay had already experienced many clubs in the U.S. and was meticulous about how he wanted things run,” recalls John Weber, the discotheque’s main DJ. “He wanted to create a safe atmosphere for everybody to enjoy.

“David’s was a step up on the décor [of the time]. It was really clean, they had sofas in there, and carpeting. You could go and actually sit on what felt like living room furniture. David’s had a billiards room too. It was the beginning of Jay’s vision of having a place where you could socialize and do more than just go and dance.”

Not licensed to sell alcohol at first, David’s opened doors to men aged 16-and-older. The club ran Friday through Sunday, with music heard until 6am on weekend nights. The crowds would soon grow far more mixed.

Photo courtesy of Wendy Peacock.

Why it was important: Although David’s was not the biggest or even busiest gay disco of its time, the club was one of the first to actually be gay-owned and so elaborately decorated.

The club was a sizable, two-level layout. Once opened, David’s heavy wooden door revealed a path that went up a few stairs, past a ticket booth, along a catwalk, and to your choice of billiards room or the main bar. In the upper part of the main room there was plenty of seating – sofas, tables and chairs, and booths alike. The floors were red carpet. Some of the walls were, in part, also covered in red carpet while others were heavily mirrored. It was, after all, the ‘70s.

St. George riding all-candidates meeting at David’s, June 1977. Photo from The Body Politic, courtesy of Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives.

Two winding staircases led down to the dancefloor. Most famously, the stairs also curved around the club’s star attraction: a fountain containing a larger-than-life, and, by many accounts, excessively well-endowed replica of Michelangelo’s David. There was also a stage, raised go-go platform, and a DJ booth that overlooked the dancefloor. Of course a large mirror ball reflected the pink, purple and multi-hued lights, and the sound system is said to have been quality. David’s also boasted a snack bar, pinball machines, and a high-tech coat check system, complete with revolving hangers.

Months after it opened, David’s adopted a somewhat radical door policy. While most gay and lesbian bars of the time were segregated by gender, and most social spaces were assumed to be either straight or gay, Club David’s advertised itself as open to all genders and sexualities. Some ads, in fact, promoted it as a bisexual club. A membership policy was adopted and bouncers were on hand to keep an eye out, but in general, people mixed freely and easily.

Club David’s welcome policy, courtesy of Wendy Peacock.

“When David’s became bi-gender, it attracted those people ‘on the fringe’ or ‘closet-y,’” says gay activist and senior Ken ‘Father’ Andrews, once a phototypesetter and board member of the Canadian Homophile Association of Toronto (C.H.A.T.). “A lot of women and men came out in that club.”

“One of the things I liked most about David’s was that I could see my female friends too,” says Weber, who got his start DJing the C.H.A.T. dances and was recruited to spin by David’s original soundman, Michael Roberts.

A 17-year-old Weber began to DJ at Club David’s in the summer of 1975.

John Weber in David’s DJ booth. Photo courtesy of Andrea Wood.

Given its 16-plus-door policy, David’s was a haven for queer and questioning youth.

“David’s was home-away-from-home,” states Jacky ‘Jake’ Gabay, later to be known by the stage name of Vicki Sue. “It was difficult being out at that time, especially for teenagers. David’s was a retreat, a place where you could be yourself. I remember the first time I walked in; it was like being born again, among people like me. I was 16-going-on-17 at the time, and was enthralled by it all.”

Wendy Peacock was a Mississauga teen when she began attending David’s in 1976.

“I dated a boy, named Dave Soulsby, who worked there from 1976 to 1977,” Peacock begins. “He worked at the door, and was a go-go dancer. He was called the best robot dancer in the clubs, and even had a spot on CityTV’s Boogie show, dancing with his little brother.”

The two met at David’s, on an evening when Soulsby attended door.

“I had never been to a club so I was floored by the lights, and the sound,” she explains. “I went as much as possible. Guaranteed, I was there every Friday and Saturday night for about a year.

“I met a wonderful array of people. This was my first foray into the real world from my very suburban upbringing, and I couldn’t have asked for a better place to meet such diverse personalities. Everybody went to this club—straight, gay, bi, tough, not so tough, drag queens, transgendered people, pretty people, not so pretty people.

“There were a lot of young lesbians at the club,” Peacock adds. “Of course, they mostly went to the Cameo or other all-women clubs, but it was a young woman at David’s—she looked just like Jodie Foster—who made me dump my boyfriend.”

It’s especially difficult to resist a Jodie Foster-lookalike’s charms when the beats are pumping.

Thanks to John Weber, and his fill-in DJ Greg Howlett, David’s was a serious disco hotspot. Both men would go on to win the Billboard Disco Forum Award for ‘Best Regional DJ’ (Howlett in 1979, Weber in 1980), but before then, each would pack the David’s dancefloor as they played anthems like Silver Convention’s “Get Up and Boogie,”

“My favourite DJ at the time was Greg Howlett,” offers Weber during a lengthy phone chat. “I really admired his music and mixing.” (Visit the Then & Now Mixcloud page for live DJ sets by Howlett.)

Weber, who also DJed at The Manatee during this same period, was both a crowd-pleaser and trendsetter. As was then de rigueur, Weber would play a couple of slow songs every hour or so, but he excelled at blending danceable pop and rock—think Doobie Brothers’ “Listen to the Music,” and “Long Train Running”—with dancefloor soul and breaking disco anthems.

“The Supremes’ ‘I’m Gonna Let My Heart Do the Walking‘ and ‘He’s My Man‘ were huge at David’s, as were Vicki Sue Robinson, with ‘Turn the Beat Around,’ and Gloria Gaynor,” says Weber.

“Another song that was huge for us was “I Got Your Love” by a group called Stratavarious, which was formed by John Usry Jr. He worked back in the days with people like the O’Jays and the whole MFSB fold. He came to Toronto and formed the Stratavarious orchestra.

Poster courtesy of Wendy Peacock.

“Jay Cochrane allowed me to do a lot of things that a lot of other club owners would have shaken their heads at. He had vision, and allowed us to bring Stratavarious, a live disco orchestra, in to perform. That was quite something. I was also able to get Shirley & Company, who did the song “Shame, Shame, Shame,” to come and perform at David’s. Carol Williams, who was the first solo female artist signed to Salsoul Records and had done a disco version of the song “More,” also performed at David’s, and became a lifelong friend. Vicki Sue Robinson spent time at the club as a guest.”

Namesake female impersonator Vicki Sue, a.k.a. Jacky Gabay, was hired to perform at David’s by Tony Brown, who also took to the stage as Toni Brown.

“I auditioned for Tony in the summer of 1976, and performed “Blind Date” from Funny Lady,” recalls Gabay. “Little did I know that there were four other performers watching, including Michelle Ross. At the end of my audition they all applauded. Tony said to me ‘You’re not a drag queen like everyone else. You’re a performer, an actor.’ That was the best compliment I could have.”

Vicki Sue became part of the roster. Drag queens performed Friday nights at 2 a.m., with other memorable greats from the David’s days including Brown, Ross, Jackie Loren, Danny Love, Twilight, Jo-Jo, and Ronnie Holliday.

Vicki Sue, known for her sense of humour and original performances, won David’s Miss Starlight Pageant title in 1977, after performing solo sets on nights that included a Supremes tribute.

Vicki Sue. Photo courtesy of Jacky Gabay.

“People were in total awe the night that The Supremes—post Diana Ross—sat with me in the DJ booth, and watched themselves be performed by female impersonators,” describes Weber. “Tony Brown performed Diana Ross so gracefully, and had all of her movements and gestures down. That made this night an especially sweet moment because so many people loved and admired Tony.

“David’s was packed like a sardine can because word had leaked that The Supremes were going to be there. Tony asked if they would consider coming out of the DJ booth to say ‘Hi,’ and they did. People cleared a path a path from the booth, down the steps to the dancefloor, and Mary Wilson, Cindy Birdsong and Sherrie Payne took to the stage to greet everyone. It was one of those special club moments that was totally a David’s thing. Mary Wilson kept in touch with both Tony and I long after that.” (Brown, who went on to work and perform at clubs including Komrads, has since passed away.)

Peacock, a fan of David’s drag artists, recalls another favourite performer.

“There was this one queen there who I adored. His club name was Sister Rock-On, and his best stage act was an Elton John impression.  He was beautiful as a woman, but Elton just blew you away. He looked exactly like him.”

For a period—especially most of 1976—Club David’s flourished. People flocked to the disco for its music, performances, and anything-goes reputation.

“I got hooked on the place because of the diversity; it was the craziest place in the world for that,” states Larry Adolphe, who’d initially gone to David’s because his good friend Gordon Bishop worked there as a manager.

“If somebody had walked in there with a cow, I don’t think anybody would have batted an eyelash.”

Adolphe, whose own music tastes leaned to rock, started working at David’s in the summer of 1977. He bussed, bartended, made popcorn for the snack bar—whatever was needed. By this time, the crowds had dwindled yet the club was open nightly.

David’s audience had shrunk for multiple reasons—including the opening of red-hot gay afterhours dance club Stages in January 1977.

Jay Cochrane left David’s behind early that year, and opened the large Studio II complex. Located at the northeast corner of Carlton and Church (where gay club Zipperz now sits), Studio II was a gay paradise, with multiple dancefloors, private rooms, a library, restaurant, movie theatre and more.

John Weber and his music went with Cochrane.

“My loyalty was with Jay, and I wasn’t personally interested in the direction that things were going with Sandy,” explains the DJ. “I believed in Jay’s vision more, so was more than happy to go to Studio II.”

Leblanc, with new American co-owner Mark Lefkofski, set about trying to keep Club David’s afloat. He built an adjoining disco, called The Garage, at 19 St. Joseph. When it didn’t take off, Leblanc converted The Garage into a restaurant, open 4 p.m. to 8 a.m. nightly. That did well, and soon people were walking through the doorway that connected the spaces.

Advertisement in Directions magazine. Courtesy of the Canadian Gay & Lesbian Archives.

David’s crowd now skewed heavily to those aged 22-and-under.

“Sandy really liked the street kids, and they liked hanging out there,” recalls Adolphe. “That was the scene at the time.”

People hung out at The Garage and danced all night in the disco, but the programming changed.

“With the opening of Studio ll, David’s lost a lot of its patrons, and the shows were changed to late afternoon on Sundays,” explains Gabay, who performed at the club as Vicki Sue until they no longer booked drag shows (He continued to perform until 1981, at clubs also including The Manatee, Carriage House, MayGay, Katrina’s, and Studio II.)

“David’s started catering to the punk crowd.”

The Ugly at David’s. Photo by Vince Carlucci.

Who else played/worked there: After the short-lived Crash ‘n’ Burn space ran its course in the summer of 1977, Club David’s became the unlikely home of Toronto’s early punk scene.

Filmmakers Tibor Takács and Stephen Zoller were the reason why.

Though he’d never set foot in David’s to dance, Takács was well aware of the club.

“David’s was sort of a big deal at the time,” he tells me in a phone call from California; “It was such a cool place – down an alleyway, with people always falling out onto the street. David’s was a very decadent, underground club that had a bit of a New York vibe to it. When David’s was in its heyday, I don’t think there was anything else like it at all in Toronto.”

He and Zoller had first approached Leblanc about shooting a scene for their first feature film, Metal Messiah, at David’s in 1976. They stayed in touch. Takács would go on to act as manager for pioneering Toronto punk bands Viletones and, to a lesser extent, Cardboard Brains.

“When we needed to find a venue for the Viletones to play in, because they were kicked out of everywhere else, we decided to go to David’s,” says Takács. “Sandy made us a good deal—we got the door and he got the bar.”

For the last four-to-six months of 1977, punk bands including Viletones, The Ugly, The Curse, B-Girls, Teenage Head, The Androids, and Cardboard Brains played at David’s once or twice a week.

The Viletones at David’s. Photo by Vince Carlucci.

“I would show up on Fridays or Saturdays to see or snap band photos,” says photographer and musician Vince Carlucci, guitarist and co-founder of Cardboard Brains.

“There was not that many bands initially – you could count all the Toronto punk bands with less than 10 fingers. Besides the Crash ‘n’ Burn, David’s was the venue for these new bands to play. There were a few gigs at The Colonial, but [it wasn’t] until 1978 and on when there was an explosion of venues and indie bands.”

Carlucci, who also documented early Toronto appearances by the likes of Patti Smith, has a soft spot for David’s to this day.

“David’s didn’t feel like a typical beer bar or club, like The Gasworks, or Yonge Station, or any of the other live music venues,” he describes; “It was kind of charming in a cheesy sort of way.”

While David’s was clearly in decline – fellow musician and photographer Don Pyle recalls that the fountain had long dried up and the club’s carpets were dirty and frayed – the club’s worn, wonky aesthetic, permanent stage, and sunken, pit-like dancefloor were perfect for the punks who played between 9pm and midnight.

“The vibe was pretty exciting, especially when bands like the Viletones played,” enthuses Carlucci. “Steven Leckie had a way of inciting kids – getting people pissed or dancing or moving. He was never much of a singer technically speaking, but had a great and sort of creepy persona onstage.

Teenage Head at David’s. Photo by Vince Carlucci.

“When Teenage Head was on, the place would typically be packed, and there was always a feeling that a riot may break out – what with all the booze and dope that was being used, and the odd mix of people. It was just not that common in ‘77.”

While the Viletones played at David’s more than any other band, Leckie recalls one especially magical night at the ‘punk palace.’

“The Poles, Teenage Head and Viletones were all on the bill,” Leckie begins. “It was like a vacuum; that was as tight as you got. I’d hear female singers later, like say in The Adverts, and think ‘Man, she doesn’t come close to Michaele Jordana.’ Teenage Head were off the map, in my opinion. They were as good as it gets. They could have been bigger than Cheap Trick.”

While footage and interviews from this show were infamously reported by punk-fearing CBC host Hana Gartner, the nascent scene at David’s was lovingly recorded by people like filmmakers Colin Brunton and Kire Paputts who shared the footage below. (Their detailed documentary about the early days of Toronto punk, The Last Pogo Jumps Again,  contains additional footage shot at David’s and is excellent.)

“David’s was an important lily pad you needed to jump onto to continue the arc of punk,” says Leckie, who sometimes DJed between bands too. “Without David’s being there, there would have been a real gap after the close of Crash ‘n’ Burn, and before the opening of The Edge. I felt absolute freedom at David’s and with Sandy. It was beautiful.”

As a venue, David’s also underscores a fact about pioneering punk scenes in Toronto and New York alike.

“The earliest days of punk had deep roots in gay spaces as safe havens or as accepting of other outsiders,” states Don Pyle, a gay man who came up in the punk scene, and came out in his later teens.

“I was only 15 when I first went to David’s and was still closeted and fearful so going there was a threat to my ‘secret,’” says Pyle, who nonetheless saw many bands at 16 Phipps (some of Pyle’s photos taken at David’s are found in his 2011 book, Trouble In the Camera Club).

Pyle points out that there were a number of “visible gays in the artier side of the punk scene—in bands like The Dishes and Drastic Measures.”

Toronto artist Bruce Eves, also co-founder of CEAC (Centre for Experimental Art and Communication), where the tiny Crash ‘n’ Burn once ran, expands on this.

“The ‘punks’ were largely art students or recent grads so the scene was, relatively speaking, fairly integrated for the time. I’d never made any secret of the fact that I’m a gay man, and had never felt threatened in any way. Some of the bands attracted a more hardcore following, but I never felt hassled.

“All this said, I would say that the punk and disco scenes were pretty segregated. Gays would go to punk concerts because the scene was hot, but not the other way around.”

The Curse at David’s. Photo by Vince Carlucci.

While most of the people I speak with say that the punk kids and disco dancers who did come together at David’s mixed comfortably (“There was this kind of respect and camaraderie betwixt the punks and the gay crowd,” says Carlucci; “Both cultures were kind of loners, rebels and rejects in a way.”), Eves’ story about one of the few times he went to David’s also speaks volumes.

“I don’t remember who was playing; it was probably the Diodes because we were friends, had collaborated on a few art projects and I was a fan,” says Eves. “During a break between sets, I was chatting up a guy I was interested in, and we kissed. This guy nearby freaked out and punched me. There was blood everywhere. I was hauled out through the restaurant, past shocked patrons with forks suspended midair. Evidently a gang of punk girls beat the shit out of the guy in revenge – my own little Altamont. I still have the scar to prove it.”

Still, the staff at David’s was just as mixed as its clientele. Leblanc also hired people from the punk scene.

“Waiter Randy Roudette was someone I came to know from just being around the scene,” offers Pyle. “He had a T-shirt that said ‘Mr. Shit’ on it the first time I recall seeing him. It was the name most people knew him by.”

Leblanc also took to booking bands. A few interviewees mention seeing Rough Trade at David’s. Disco acts still performed on occasion.

“At a certain point, Sandy started booking his own shows,” says Takács. “We were a little pissed off at him, but really, we’d run the gamut of Toronto punk groups, and he was looking for new acts. He brought in these guys from Detroit. They were a very clean-cut, new wave pop band, called The Romantics. Eventually they became kind of famous. I remember walking in and hearing “What I Like About You,” and thinking ‘Fuck, these guys are commercial. This is a hit song man.’ The first time I ever heard that song was there.”

Poster courtesy of The Last Pogo Jumps Again.

What happened to it: Club David’s burned in a fire following a New Year’s Eve punk show on December 31, 1977.

“We were one of the three unfortunate bands to have played the night the club burned down,” says Carlucci. “It was the final gig at Club David’s.” (Carlucci has written about this night in a memoir in progress, tentatively titled I Was A Cardboard Brain. He continues to take and exhibit photos, performs with the band Station Twang, and also blogs regularly.)

Cardboard Brains, along with members of Viletones and The Ugly, lost a lot of gear in the fire, which remains a mystery to this day.

“There were some rumours as to whether or not it was an insurance thing, but I was always skeptical of that because that was Sandy’s life,” says Adolphe, who worked at David’s that evening. (He now owns L&J Cycle on Davenport.)

“Sandy liked the kids, and he actually lived there—he had a loft that in the building, right above the snack bar. I think in some ways, he had more to lose.

“After it burned down, he still tried to help us out by giving Gordon and I shifts, pulling down smoke damaged drywall and cleaning the place up. Sandy had a big heart. It’s quite possible that the fire was staged, but that just didn’t seem to fit with who Sandy was.”

Takács also has his doubts.

“Something I remember very distinctly from that night is that people were throwing their cigarette butts on the wooden dancefloor. I went around stomping them out at points.”

The David’s site as it appeared in 1979.
Photos by Joan Anderson, courtesy of the Canadian Lesbian & Gay Archives.

Now splitting his time between Toronto and Los Angeles, the director of films including The Gate, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and Spiders 3D recalls trying to meet with Leblanc many months after the fire.

“I remember going to Sandy’s to discuss the insurance. We knocked on the door, went back a few times, and wondered ‘What the hell? Where did Sandy disappear to?’”

Leblanc was murdered in September 1978. The Toronto Star reported that he’d been stabbed more than 100 times. No one was ever charged.

Sandy LeBlanc, as featured in Directions magazine. Courtesy of Canadian Lesbian & Gay Archives.

“There were suspects, but no proof,” says Ken Andrews, now retired and active as a community volunteer as he nears age 79.

“A friend discovered Sandy’s body when paying a visit to his apartment. He called police, of course, and a certain then-homicide detective by the name of Julian Fantino was an investigator. My friend thought it odd that a follow-up interview never took place.”

A few years later, former David’s co-owner Mark Lefkofski, who also co-owned Detroit men’s bar Menjo’s for a period, was murdered in that city.

“It was absolutely devastating, the way that Sandy was murdered, but at the time, it was seen as possible that he’d brought the wrong person home,” recalls John Weber, who went on to DJ at clubs including Sutton Place disco Stop 33, Space disco and The Barn (he’s now retired).

“But then, when it came to Mark also being murdered, it seemed like there was something else involved there. Maybe bikers or mob money – it seems we’ll never know.”

16 Phipps remained unused for years after the fire. In the mid 1980s, it was reborn as gay dance club Le Mystique. From 1995 to 1997, it was the home of house-centric gay afterhours club, JOY while at other points in the ’90s the building hosted underground warehouse parties and raves.

The building was torn down more than five years ago. In its place stands the 20-storey condo build on the south side of Eleven Residences at 11 St. Joseph. The St. Nicholas alleyway no longer extends that far north; it has been filled in by ongoing construction of Five Condos at Yonge and St. Joseph.

Thank you to participants Bruce Eves, Don Pyle, Jacky Gabay, John Weber, Ken Andrews, Larry Adolph, Steven Leckie, Tibor Takács, Vince Carlucci, Wendy Peacock. Thanks also to Alice Lipczak, Andrée Emond, Caroline Azar, George Fichna, Helen Lenskyj and the Canadian Lesbian & Gay Archives, Vince Degiorgio, and to Colin Brunton and Kire Paputts, producer/directors of The Last Pogo Jumps Again, for their suggestions and sharing of resources.

The post Then & Now: Club David’s appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published June 7, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this edition of her nightclub-history series, Denise Benson revisits the most sexcess-ful, celeb-studded gay house club of the ‘90s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: JOY, 16 Phipps

Years of operation: 1995-1997

History: The rapidly changing streets surrounding Toronto’s Yonge and St. Joseph intersection were once a mecca for adventurous late-night dancers. Some of the hub’s gay and after-hours history was explored in earlier Then & Now pieces about influential 1980s venues Voodoo and Club Z; now, we return during the ’90s, before the area was transformed by the massive condo development we see today.

The tiny Phipps Street is tucked in just north of Wellesley and south of St. Joseph, running east-west from St. Nicholas to Bay. In the mid-’70s, while big gay dance club The Manatee drew crowds to 11A St. Joseph, Club David’s brought gay revelers south down the alley, to 16 Phipps, where a gold rendition of Michelangelo’s David presided over the dancefloor. In the ’80s, David was out and mirrors were in as the building became new gay club Le Mystique.

Although it later housed a variety of warehouse parties, early raves and other one-off events, the building still featured some of Mystique’s décor when John Wulff and silent partners went to view 16 Phipps early in March of 1995. The former storehouse, complete with its old loading dock and a small tunnel that connected it to 11A St. Joseph (it’s thought a conveyor belt once ran between the two), was in rough shape.

Outside 16 Phipps, pre-JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Wulff—who’d been socializing “seven days a week” in Toronto’s downtown gay scene since he was 16, and had worked for clubs including Gilles Belanger’s B-Bar—was ready to produce something of his own. He saw the 6,000 sq. ft. space as being well-suited to his vision of an after-hours dance club, located near the gay village, that would feature house music, art, and performance.

“The space was big, raw, and warehousey,” recalls Wulff. “We ripped everything out, soundproofed the walls, sprayed everything black, and installed a sound system.”

Inside of 16 Phipps, pre-JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

“Physically, JOY was a big black box,” adds DJ Scott Cairns, who would become the club’s Saturday night resident. “It was mainly dancefloor, with a raised area in the back where people could get a bird’s-eye view of what was happening below. It was dark and sexy. The lighting was minimal, with the focus being the giant disco ball in the centre of the floor.”

JOY opened its doors at 1 a.m.—then last call at licensed bars—on Friday, March 17, 1995. Although the promotion of Fridays faltered at first, JOY’s Saturdays were an immediate hit and soon regularly exceeded the legal capacity of 472 people.

“JOY quickly became the late night go-to spot,” says Cairns. “Mainly a gay event, the Saturdays were heavily attended by a wide cross-section of people: drag queens, muscle boys, dykes, models—all the usual suspects—with a gay-positive hetero element. Straight girls and their terrified boyfriends were often on hand.”

JOY dancefloor. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Why it was important: The timing of JOY could not have been better. As a gay-heavy, house music focussed, late-night dance club, it filled a lot of gaps. The warehouse scene had slowed, raves had grown larger and younger, and the music at Toronto gay bars had become increasingly commercial.

“JOY was completely on its own,” says Wulff. “The gay clubs, like Boots, Colby’s and The Barn, were playing Top 40 with the occasional house song while raves were playing Euro-ish fast beats. JOY was playing the newest and best underground house music, and felt like warehouse parties in Chicago or Detroit. JOY didn’t feel like Canada; it felt very New York, and people were very excited to be part of the energy.”

“JOY was very important at the time as it offered an after-hours experience that was safe and close to home for a big portion of the gay community,” adds Cairns, a 30-year DJ veteran who, by then, had wrapped up popular residencies at both The Phoenix and OZ.

“There was a definite thirst for something new in the core. I feel we provided that big time.”

“The JOY space had cachet from being a gay and alternative club over many years,” says James Vandervoort, better known as James St. Bass, a friend and frequent DJ partner of Cairns’. Vandervoort had come out while dancing in nearby ’80s clubs like Stages, Avalon, and Voodoo, and had himself brought gay clubbers west of Yonge while DJing boys’ nights at both Go-Go and Boom Boom Room.

“By the time JOY got started, it felt like coming home to gay after-hours dancing, but it was our time and our generation that was running it. JOY took the tradition of those earlier after-hours dances, but had more glamour, energy, and perhaps danger than the others that came before. It was raw, dark, sexy and, best of all, so central. JOY had the sound and feel of an illicit warehouse party, but was there every weekend—and with no chasing phone-line prompts to find it!”

Scott Cairns (left), John Wulff and Gilles Belanger. Photo courtesy of Wulff.

Cairns created much of the atmosphere with his music, often playing five full hours of the house he loved.

“Some of the best house was coming out in 1995 to ’96,” Cairns enthuses. “Big records for me at JOY included tracks from Farley & Heller a.k.a. Roach Motel, like ‘Wild Luv‘ and ‘Work 2 Doo.’ The dub of Joi Cardwell’s ‘Jump For Joi‘ was massive, as was H2O’s ‘Satisfied (Take Me Higher),’ and Robbie Tronco’s ‘Walk for Me.’ Tracks from producers like Danny Tenaglia, Roger S., MURK, Angel Moraes and Mousse T. were really big.

“And then came Boris Dlugosch and ‘Keep Pushin’,’” Cairns continues. “My friend Mitch Winthrop had just came back from visiting Boris in Germany, and arrived at JOY with a test press of this forthcoming single. I dropped it immediately and the reaction was intense. Later, in June of 1996, I had the pleasure of being joined by Boris at JOY. During his set, he dropped Giorgio Moroder’s ‘Chase.’ It’s one of my strongest memories from the club.”

LISTEN: Scott Cairns Live at JOY

The intense atmosphere of Saturdays at JOY can also be attributed to the dreams and antics of host John Wulff.

“My responsibility was to create an experience every week, and I’m proud of the events we put together,” he says.

For Halloween of 1995, Wulff performed as Carrie, complete with wig, white dress, pyrotechnics and Gilles Belanger as his Tommy Ross.

Another week, he recounts, “I rode into JOY on a motorcycle, in a star-spangled bikini, wrapped in an American flag and did Sandra Bernhardt’s strip tease from Without You I’m Nothing to [Prince's] ‘Little Red Corvette.’”

Frequently, Wulff could be found lying on a bed placed in the middle of the club on a scaffold.

“It was a mattress with gold satin sheets where whoever was feeling it would lounge or simulate sex shows,” says Wulff. “Various guests starred on that bed, from me to porn stars to beefcake male gymnasts stretching in silver sequin g-strings.”

He also recalls that JOY’s New Year’s 1996 party was perhaps the height of their (s)excess.

“We re-did the interior from black box to a glamorous ’30s speakeasy,” Wulff explains. “We installed two large chandeliers, and had an artist paint a 27-foot-long Tamara de Lempicka naked-woman portrait. We squeezed 1,200 people into that room. It was raining from the sweat and condensation—everyone was pretty much naked. I’ve never felt energy like that.”

JOY mural. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Wulff, in fact, starred alongside the many local and international celebs who passed through the club’s doors on weekends. Dozens of actors, models and musicians took part, ranging from Madonna and her tour dancers to Alanis Morissette, Terrence Trent D’Arby, John Goodman, Geena Davis, Montreal supermodel Ève Salvail, 90210 star Kathleen Robertson, and Heather Tom of The Young and the Restless, a soap widely adored by gay men.

But it wasn’t just Saturday nights and celebrity cameos that made JOY special. About a month after the club opened, Fridays were properly launched, with Jennstar at the helm. The promoter and hostess had already worked for years at Queens Quay nightclub RPM, was a columnist for TRIBE magazine, and was known for bringing warehouse heads, clubbers, and ravers of all sexual orientations together.

Jennstar at JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Jennstar recruited fellow Futureshock crew members Gavin Bryan and Nnamdi Gryffyn a.k.a. DJ Gryphon, and they assembled a team that brought the Friday night concept called “Jennstar…She’ll Make You Famous” to life.

“We were inspired by fashion, fabulousness, fierceness, all the F words—including ‘famous,’” says Jennstar. “Everyone who attended JOY was fierce in their own way. This was a time when a lot of people were just starting their businesses—hair, make-up, graphic artists, performers, club-kids, you name it.”

Flyer courtesy of Jennstar

Opening night was packed, with NYC’s Frankie Knuckles on the decks and Jennstarr performing as Sunset Boulevard’s Norma Desmond. Fridays consistently bridged crowds and communities, with ace rotating resident DJs Gryphon, Jason Hodges, Matt C, Mario J, and Kenny Glasgow working their musical magic.

“I remember walking down the alley, hearing the music get louder as you’d approach, and then turning the corner to see a lineup of people trying to get in every week,” recalls Hodges of his first real residency. “It was a rush.”

Lineup outside of JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

“JOY was a place where that warehouse vibe was strong,” adds Hodges, a now-established DJ/producer. “The sound was big, and the vibe was dope. It was a solid night that drew music-driven crowds who knew what was up.”

Most of Fridays’ cast of players—from door staff to DJs and dancers—very much knew what was up. Many would form the core of Industry Nightclub, which opened about a year and a half after JOY.

One of these people was Rommel, a house-music lover who danced many weekends away at JOY, and frequently hosted Fridays’ VIP room.

“JOY was my version of Studio 54,” says Rommel. “Favourite memories include Frankie Knuckles playing an amazing set, Franklin Fuentes performing his club hit ‘If Madonna Calls,’ and, of course, our very own Jackae [Baker], with her many fabulous performances.”

John Wulff (left) and Rommel. Photo courtesy of Wulff.

“Jennstar, Rommel, and Jackae brought the glamour and the fun,” says Vandervoort. “It was decadent for sure, but also very funny. There were feature shows and drag-fashion fabulousness that got sloppier the later it got, so it never had the heavy dark feeling of some raves; it was more pure gay lasciviousness and bold fun. You could be any orientation and be welcome at JOY, but you likely had a better time if you liked to take most of your clothes off and dance like a maniac.”

This video, with original JOY footage shot by Rob Cluff in August of 1995, serves as evidence.

“At JOY we got away with a lot,” agrees Jennstar. “There were no rules really back then. Warehouse parties had died and the cops were paying attention to the raves, so we skirted under the radar for quite a bit. Just a bit, but boy was it fun. JOY was a place where you could come and hear fierce music and be who you wanted to be. It was definitely a birthplace for many events and parties that followed.

JOY was named the Best Nightclub of 1995 in Toronto Life magazine. It also helped bring deeper shades of house back to gay bars.

Wulff offers this tidbit: “Colby’s opened Voodoo Lounge one year after JOY, and copied it directly.”

Matt C (left) with Jason “Deko” Steele at JOY on Hallowe’en. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

At JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Who else played there: Jennstar’s Fridays featured many guest DJs, with a heavy Montreal lean. Frequent visitors included Luc Raymond, Christian Pronovost, and Alain Vinet, now Musical Director for Cirque du Soleil.

“The biggest international artists who played JOY for us were Deep Dish,” says Jennstar. “It’s kind of a funny story. Ashley from [promotions crew] Better Days called to ask if they could come and play the night before the [Better Days’] rave; the Deep Dish boys really wanted to get a feel for the city. I said sure, but had no real idea who they were, and we didn’t have money to pay them. They showed up and rocked the house.”

While Saturdays at JOY were mainly a showcase of Scott Cairns, guests like Montreal’s Mark Anthony and Sylvain Girard were sometimes found. Matt C also guested one Halloween, as caught on film above.

JOY also occasionally opened its doors on other nights for special events, including a House of Trance Wednesday series produced by Don Berns a.k.a. Dr. Trance.

JOY dancefloor. Photo courtesy of Scott Cairns.

What happened to it: JOY closed abruptly in early 1997.

“I had a falling out with my partners,” shares Wulff. “They changed the locks, and changed the name of the club to the Cubicle. Also, I was very tired and didn’t want to fight it. The fire department was all over us for capacity and sound issues, plus [then City Councillor] Kyle Rae was not a fan and wanted us closed.”

The Cubicle was short-lived. After it closed, 16 Phipps opened very briefly again under the name of JOY, though Wulff was not involved. According to him, the building was demolished roughly five years ago. In its place stands the 20-storey condo build on the south side of Eleven Residencies at 11 St. Joseph.

Wulff left the club business after JOY, moving into corporate branding and marketing. After recovering from serious health issues in 2011, however, he decided to “come out of retirement to do quarterly events,” beginning with a JOY reunion this Friday (June 8). Many of the JOY faithful will congregate in the rooms of Buddies In Bad Times Theatre (12 Alexander Street). Mark Falco DJs in the Cabaret, while Scott Cairns plays the main Chamber.

“I’ve been crafting the music for this night for months,” says an excited Cairns. “I’ve listened to probably a thousand records, trying to trim it down to the perfect set. I hope everyone has the best time, reuniting with friends and reliving the glory days of JOY.”

LISTEN: SCOTT LIVE at JOY mix 2

Jennstar, James St. Bass, Rommel and fellow JOY devotee Charles Pavia will host, while artists Drasko Bogdanovic and the Young Astronauts provide a wall of projections.

“With the reunion, it’s the old JOY mission: house music combined with artistic expression, through striking visuals, but on overdrive,” says Wulff. “I want to provide not only a good house-music party, but one that leaves you visually in awe.

“Also, Rommel will perform at 12:30 a.m., in something that I’ve described as her ‘Madonna Super Bowl Halftime Show.’ She’s accompanied by four clones of herself—you will die!

“I think that people are ready to have a different experience in nightclubbing,” summarizes Rommel. ”I would encourage attendees to put on their best boogie shoes, and to be as outrageous, if not courageous, in your club couture. JOY was especially known for that. Above all, I encourage everyone to just be you; that’s what JOY was and is all about.”

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

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

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

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Club Z, 11A St. Joseph Street

Years in operation: 1984-1989

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charles Khabouth (far left) and friends at Club Z

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

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

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

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

11A St. Joseph Street today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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