Article originally published June 10, 2013 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

In the 1990s, Boa Café was one the city’s busiest late night hangouts; in the mid-2000s, its second incarnation –a much larger, full-blown dance club– was hailed as the best-sounding. But with high expenses and no liquor licence, the party couldn’t last for long.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Boa Redux, 270 Spadina Ave.

Years in operation: 2003–2005

History: In an earlier edition of Then & Now, we explored the story of Rony Hitti’s 1990s Yorkville hotspot, Boa Café. By the time Hitti closed the Café in 1998, he owned a number of other fine-dining establishments, including Brasserie Zola and Winston’s. A few years later, he closed the book on his life as a restaurateur, keen instead to open a large underground dance club, which had been a dream for decades. Hitti would soon bring Boa’s name to a new generation by creating an after-hours venue of a much different nature than its predecessor.

“Boa Redux came out of my desire to have a house club in Toronto similar to Montreal’s Stereo,” he begins.

Hitti spent two years searching for the right location. A real-estate agent took him to 270 Spadina Ave., former home of a rundown porn theatre. At 16,000 square feet, with soaring ceilings and multiple levels, the space had great potential.

A big staircase dominated the room, its large steps each allowing a view of the entire area. A separate lounge space would be built on the lowest level, also to serve as the club’s entrance. There was an existing stage, later to be utilized both for dancing and late-night performances. In total, Boa would have a legal capacity of more than 1,300 people, an ideal size for a club purpose-built to feature some of the globe’s top underground DJs in a city that continued to have a thriving late-night scene in its post-rave years.

“It took us almost nine months to build Boa Redux,” states Hitti. “We stripped it down to the ground, and built the perfect acoustic room.

“People say that Boa had a great sound system, but it wasn’t just about the system. It was actually what we put into the walls, ceilings, and floors. We built completely sound-neutral rooms, and then went with a Dynacord system, which made Boa what it was. I believe that if you own a restaurant, you spend money in the kitchen first, and if you’re building a club, you put your money in sound, and then work outward. Every inch of that room was done with sound in mind.”

The main room tiers of Boa Redux. Photo courtesy of Carey Britt.

Also core to the identity and function of Boa Redux was the fact that the club would operate specifically during late-night hours, and without a liquor licence.

“There were two reasons for that. One, the liquor board hated my guts because for 10 years they tried to shut Boa Café in Yorkville down, and they couldn’t. I knew that if I wanted to licence a space that big, I’d be in for a big fight. I also knew that I would have a fight with [then city councillor] Olivia Chow, because the area over there was not licensed for clubs of that size. I got around that by making it into public hall. I love challenges.

“On top of all that, honestly, the house-music scene is not conducive to liquor, and vice versa.”

In order to court in-the-know clubbers, Hitti hired a team of talent bookers and promoters that included Ralf Madi and Carey Britt. Madi had worked at The Guvernment while Britt was a booker for Most Wanted Entertainment. The two men had also collaborated on numerous productions, including under the Project Orange banner. They knew Toronto’s big-room scene well, and got to work crafting Boa’s musical focus months in advance of opening.

“Without Carey and Ralf, Boa Redux would not have happened,” credits Hitti. “Certainly not the way that it did.”

After a few “soft launch” parties featuring DJ Sean Miller in its lounge, Boa Redux announced itself on a larger scale with the booking of Sander Kleinenberg in December 2003. By January 2004, the new Boa was in full swing.

Sander Kleinenberg (December 2003) was the first large production at Boa Redux. Flyer courtesy of Jeff Button.

Boa in action. Photo courtesy of Rony Hitti.

Why it was important: “You would never know that Boa was a club from the outside,” says Sean Miller, the DJ/producer who became the club’s star resident. “You’d come in the back door, and just be transported to another world.

“I’d never been to anything like it before. Rony spared no expense on the sound. He brought in that Dynacord system, and even flew in the engineers from Germany. Nobody else was putting that kind of attention into sound [in Toronto].”

It is the incredible quality of sound at Boa Redux that most defines its reputation to this day.

“It was a floating room, meaning that the floors were raised and hollow, there was a drop ceiling, and the walls were built out from the exterior walls and insulated,” explains Britt. “I have heard the same Dynacord sound system in clubs like Space Miami, Pacha New York, and The Docks, but none of them came even close to sounding as good as Boa’s room.

“Coming up [from the entrance], you would get a taste of the sound building and, as you approached the top of those stairs, the sound and vibe in the room was enough to put a smile on anyone’s face. The floors were also built on different levels, which created an awesome feeling for the DJ and the crowd, with heads and bodies bouncing at all different levels.”

Boa Redux promoter Erica Kelly and talent booker Carey Britt. Photo courtesy of Britt.

As Boa’s Music Director and Marketing Manager, Britt was most responsible for the DJs who entertained those bodies and put Boa’s sound system to the test. At the start, he worked most closely with Madi, as well as respected club promoter Edward “Eddy K” Kwak and Erica Kelly, a young clubber who Eddy suggested be brought on board for her impressive street-promotion skills and guest-list abilities.

When Madi left Boa in July 2004 to open Century Room, Kelly was promoted to work full-time as Boa’s Promotions and Marketing Manager. (Madi is now one of the forces behind Capture Group, owners of Maison Mercer, Blowfish Restaurant, and many other enterprises.)

Collectively, they decided to focus Boa’s programming on emergent artists and sounds, with a focus on both local and international talent.

“At the time, the competing clubs were all booking the biggest names in the game,” explains Britt. “Strategically, we made a decision to focus on a more a underground sound, and prided ourselves on featuring talent that either rarely played the city, or had never been here before. We debuted artists like DJ Demi and Chus+Ceballos, and worked closely with the Def Mix crew.”

DJ Demi on the decks at Boa Redux. Photo courtesy of Carey Britt.

Demi was signed to a bi-monthly residency, Chus+Ceballos played quarterly, and a monthly Def Mix showcase offered appearances by house-music legends like David Morales, Frankie Knuckles, Satoshi Tomiie, and Hector Romero.

“The [Def Mix guys] rarely appeared in the city post-Industry, and they made Boa their home,” says Britt.

Boa may not have had the budget or connections of competing clubs like The Guvernment and System Soundbar, but the team was creative.

“Carey found the buzz, the good new music, and we had to make it grow to suit a venue of that size,” credits Erica Kelly.

“We visited history-makers like Jeff Mills and Frankie Knuckles while building followings for today’s Toronto favourites, like The Martinez Brothers. With Boa you could always trust that you were going to hear something amazing, not because it was the guaranteed name to book in the past, but because it was someone who should be booked, someone you should know about.”

DJ/producer Sean Miller at Boa Redux. Photo courtesy of him.

Toronto’s own Sean Miller was exactly that. Though he’d come up playing raves and a number of parties produced by Britt, Miller was far from a well-known name in this city when he started as Boa’s main Saturday DJ.

“Sean Miller was our one and only true resident, and it helped launch his career,” Hitti tells me with pride. “I love his music; he plays such sexy house. The deep, dirty tribal house sound we were famous for was all Sean.”

When Miller started spinning every Saturday at Boa, he had just begun producing. He’d generally play from 1 to 4 a.m., warming up for international headliners. “I’d focus on setting the atmosphere and making people feel good,” Miller explains.

As time went on and crowds responded, Miller was often booked to play extended sets, sometimes DJing from 1 a.m. through to noon the next day.

“That taught me so much about how to play to a bigger audience, about DJing and performance, and about how to take people on a journey.”

These were especially helpful skills as Miller’s career exploded, with releases on labels including Chus+Ceballos’ Stereo, Steve Lawler’s Viva Music, Anja Schneider’s Mobilee, and Satoshi Tomiie’s Saw Recordings soon taking him around the world.

Miller may have moved to playing Boa only once or twice monthly—with DJs including Nevio and Kenny Glasgow stepping in as fellow Saturday-night residents—but his Afterhours mix CD, recorded in 2004, is still revered by regulars of the club. (We present it here, in digital form for the first time.)

When asked what, in addition to its sound, most made Boa Redux a unique experience to him, Miller has no shortage of answers.

“First and foremost was the space itself, as an old theatre,” he describes. “There was also the fact that it wasn’t in the club district. Whoever came to Boa was committed to us the whole night. It didn’t open until 1 a.m., and the headliners went on at 4 a.m., so people could come after other experiences. We had a bit of a different, older crowd. It was expensive to get in—like $30 or $40—because there was no other revenue stream, and it was very much based around the guest DJs.

“It was also a different kind of after-hours experience. I’d say it was an upscale after-hours. It wasn’t like places where people would be tweaking out hard. From my perspective—and I never did drugs there—people were pretty much together. People were there for the music, and to dance.”

“The crowd was incredibly diverse,” adds Britt. “That was one of the things that made that place so special, and the vibe so incredible. Saturday nights in particular, you would see all different types: downtown crowds that were out specifically for music, the Church Street crowd migrated west, suburban kids, and suits coming from clubs on King Street who wanted to keep it going. There was no VIP section, everyone was respected, and people came to have a good time.”

“If I fit in, you fit in,” echoes Kelly. “It didn’t matter what your deal was. I met old-school rave icons, Yorkville salon owners, lawyers, doctors, strippers, and bodybuilders, models, teachers, audio fanatics, breakdancers, artists, and international DJs. Even Tiesto came through one night.

“I have no idea how the street kids found the money to be there, but they were there, too,” she adds. “You always knew someone in the room, and never met anyone that ruined your night.”

Friends at Boa Redux. Photo courtesy of Rony Hitti.

Boa’s steep cover charges may have skewed its crowd to the older and more fashion-conscious end of the dance club spectrum, but one had to appreciate the venue’s commitment to the basics.

“Boa wasn’t about bottle service, clamouring to get into VIP areas, or shiny bling-y things,” Kelly emphasizes. “It was grungy furniture you could dance on, and mismatched linoleum tiles—with heel scuffs and old gum marks—that made it the perfect place to dance on any level. Wherever you were, that was your space. You could see everything, you could hear everything, you could feel everything. In that one huge main room, we were all there to hear the best in cutting-edge underground music.”

Sean Miller (left) with Kenny Glasgow. Photo courtesy of Erica Kelly.

Who else played/worked there: When asked about standout events at Boa Redux, everyone I speak with mentions the June 2004 appearance of New York’s Danny Tenaglia, who played to more than 3,000 people over the course of a marathon 18-hour set. It had been years since Tenaglia had played Toronto, and the Boa team worked hard to bring him to their club.

“Carey booked a lot of DJs who were Danny’s protégés in order to get word into his ear about what a great club Boa was,” shares Hitti. “We landed him for a Canada Day party. He loved Boa, and played longer than anyone else ever played there. It was magnificent, and absolutely the vision I’d had of the room.”

Tenaglia did indeed love Boa, and signed the club’s stage to say exactly that.

Danny Tenaglia’s appreciation of Boa Redux signed on the club’s stage. Photo courtesy of Carey Britt.

Another event that put Boa Redux on the map, both locally and globally, was the X-Tend Your New Year blowout that brought in the year 2005. That party went for two days, with more than 4,000 people attending to hear a massive lineup of DJs that included David Morales, Tom Stephan, Saeed Younan, Cevin Fisher, Chus+ Ceballos, Demi, Miller and more than 20 other Toronto talents.

New Year’s Eve flyer courtesy of Rony Hitti.

British DJ/producer Demi may well have played Boa more than any other international guest. Live mixes from his many appearances can easily be found online, including his full set from BringtheBeat’s “Mad Hatter” event in October 2004.

Friday nights at Boa may not have attracted the large, consistent crowds of Saturdays (“It’s very hard to do an after-hours on Fridays; Fridays, you need liquor,” says Hitti), but they certainly were interesting.

“Fridays were our night to take risks outside the tribal and progressive house genres emphasized so heavily on Saturdays,” explains Kelly.

Mat Lunnen of Hustlin’ plays at Boa. Photo courtesy of Jeff Button.

Fridays featured a lot of impressive local talent, including parties like Chemistry, with DJs including Matt Coleridge, John Tremblay and The Dukes, and Hustlin’ with DJs Mat Lunnen and Mike Gleeson. Black Light Activists produced a number of psy-trance events, complete with their signature glowing artwork. There were occasional breaks events, with DJs including The Phat Conductor, Big League Chu, and Dave Saddler. Other locals who played Fridays included Mischief & Frankie, Mario J, Adam Marshall, Robb G, Jon Tremblay, Lady Lindzee, Jason Hodges, Jonny White, and Nitin.

Fridays later moved to more of a one-off, international-headliner format, with names that included Derrick Carter, Stacey Pullen, Jeff Mills, Miguel Migs, Kaskade, and early Toronto appearances by both Claude VonStroke and Tiefschwarz. Lovers of deeper, funky house will also associate Boa’s Fridays with DJ/producer Phil Weeks and showcases of his Robsoul Recordings. (This live recording from November 2004 is an absolute gem.)

Autographed Derrick Carter & Frankie Knuckles poster courtesy of Erica Kelly.

And while DJs of all sounds and stripes pounded out the beats in Boa’s main room, DJs like the supremely soulful Jermaine Brown brought a more chill, funky sensibility to Boa’s lower lounge.

Just as this is not a comprehensive list of all who DJed at Boa Redux, it is equally impossible to list all of the promoters, bartenders, door staff and others who made the club function. Kelly mentions that other key promoters included Kevin Noel (now of Platform), Jeff Button (now best known as a DJ), and Pat Boogie (Boogie Inc.). Hitti gives props to head bartender Bart (now general manager at Yorkville’s Amber bar) and head doorman Edwin Harris (now at Club V).

“Edwin was probably the most patient person heading a door I have ever met,” agrees Britt, who also makes mention of two other staffers. “Li, the tech, was the hardest-working guy in the club, always taking care of the sound and lights like they were his kids. And Justin, who headed up operations—that guy could move a mountain if you gave him 10 minutes.”

Jeff Button (middle) and friends at Boa. Photo courtesy of Button.

What happened to it: Boa Redux made a big splash, but had a storied crash, complete with rumours, innuendo and infighting. Legal battles that ate up a great deal of Boa’s 2005 and Hitti’s cash also played a huge role.

“We faced a very big problem with our landlord,” states Hitti. “He wasn’t happy with what we were running, even though he knew in the first place. Also, we were demanding a brand-new air-conditioning system because it was boiling in there in summertime. It got to the point where we went into litigation with the landlord—it was a $250,000 air-conditioning system that needed to go in.”

Kelly, who stayed on at Boa after Britt and others had quit, confirms that an expensive “year-long court case against the landlord” took its toll.

“When Carey decided to leave, it was a really hard decision for me to stay,” she says. “I understood that financially we were losing friends fast, but I just didn’t want to give up on something that I knew was the greatest place in Toronto.

“The summer of 2005, we had almost paid off the sound system, and I remember feeling like it was finally the time we had be working toward—no more pay cuts, no more putting off payments, no more struggling.”

Alas, the court case was decided in the landlord’s favour, and other factors kicked in. While Hitti says he had been attempting to negotiate with the landlord, other people, including Nevio Persia and David Morales, are reported to have made a separate offer.

“They offered him twice the rent that I was paying, and said they’d put in their own air-conditioning unit,” claims Hitti. “[The landlord] stopped cooperating with us, and things got ugly over a period of many months. I decided I didn’t want to do it any more. It was lucrative, but I had other businesses that were lucrative. We got out of it, and [Persia and Morales] promptly took it over and changed it into Sonic.”

Boa Redux during brighter days and nights. Photo courtesy of Carey Britt.

Boa closed with a big party on August 28, 2005. Sean Miller played a 12-hour set. Miller also went on to DJ at Sonic, which opened late April 2006 and closed less than a year later.

“I left before Sonic closed,” says Miller. “It never really had what Boa had and, by that point, my career had really taken off. I was playing all over the world.”

Miller continues to tour globally, and plays occasionally on home turf. (“I sort of lost touch with Toronto, and my goal is to find a residency here.”) His next release will be the This Is That EP, out soon on Josh Wink’s Ovum label, and he is at work on a collaborative project with legendary guitarist and vocalist Jose Feliciano.

Like Miller, Britt worked at Sonic, but feels its Boa’s legacy that remains.

“Although there was quality renovation, and a great sound system in the room, [Sonic] never quite stood up to what Boa was able to do,” Britt says. “There was something really raw, mysterious, and underground about Boa. No one has quite been able to replicate it.” (Britt currently heads the Canadian music and entertainment initiatives for global marketing agency GMR Marketing.)

Hitti himself wasn’t able to replicate Boa Redux, though he tried with a short run of events at 360 Adelaide St. W., former home of clubs including Turbo. He also produced a number of parties at 99 Sudbury, before its renovations, where parts of Boa’s sound system were put to good use.

Hitti still owns the system, but claims to be “retired” from the club and restaurant business, other than as a consultant. He did design short-lived Peter Street venue Abode, but legal issues put a halt to its operation. (“The liquor board said they wanted to ban me from even entering the space, and that had to do with a charge from Boa in Yorkville going back to 1997. They put me through the roughest trial you could imagine.” Hitti says he is suing the liquor board “for slandering my name.”)

Hitti is now co-owner of D’Hacro Corp, a venture capital and finance corporation. He also tells me that he and his Hong Kong-based brother own a bank in that financial centre. (Related web links do not appear to exist.)

“There’s a lot more to me than restaurants and clubs, although they were always my passion,” says Hitti. “I do find the world of finance boring as hell. I’m the guy who always shows up without a suit and tie.”

As for Erica Kelly, who followed Hitti to Boa Redux on Adelaide and then worked as Operations Manager at Sonic, she went on to bartend at Footwork, as well as work at clubs including Sound Academy and CiRCA. Although she now works for an airline, Kelly can occasionally be found holding down door duties for some of her favourite promoters and events.

“Looking back, it’s amazing that Toronto was able to create and support a venue of Boa’s size with no liquor licence,” Kelly reflects. “It was a financial struggle, and it didn’t last forever, but I’m glad we tried.”

270 Spadina is slated to reopen as the 10-storey Dragon Condos in 2015.

Thank you to participants Carey Britt, Erica Kelly, Rony Hitti, and Sean Miller, as well as to DJ Demi, Jeff Button, Mat Lunnen, and Ralf Madi.

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

Article originally published August 10, 2012 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

The legendary Spadina venue has just been sold for a reported $3 million, with its new owners promising to return the club to its late-‘70s glory days. But in this edition of her nightlife-history series, Denise Benson looks back at the people and parties that kept this Toronto landmark alive during its leanest years.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: The El Mocambo Tavern, 464 Spadina Ave.

Years in operation: 1946-present. Here, I focus specifically on the era spanning 1989-2001.

History: Arguably Toronto’s most illustrious live music venue, Spadina’s historic El Mocambo Tavern has meant many things to many people over the past 66 years: soul and blues hub, revered rock and roots venue, queer-punk hotbed. The building itself is said to date back to 1850, and to have acted as a haven for escaped slaves in a part of the city that was long home to a sizable African-Canadian community.

The El Mocambo, complete with infamous palm-tree sign, opened in the 1940s as a two-floor live music venue, and was granted one of Toronto’s earliest liquor licences. While it’s never been fancy, the El Mo boasts an incredible rock, soul, jazz, and blues pedigree. Charles Mingus, Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan, The Guess Who, Elvis Costello, Lou Reed, U2, Blondie, and The Ramones all played there, as did a certain British band that performed two nights under the pseudonym of The Cockroaches.

“The Rolling Stones’ shows in 1977 put The El Mocambo on the ‘world stage,’” says longtime local music booker Enzo Petrungaro, who co-owned the venue from 1989 to 1992.

“It was probably the most talked-about club in the world during the days that followed, not only because of the scandals—the Prime Minister’s newly separated wife seen running around with the band, and Keith Richards’ subsequent bust at the hotel—but it was the first time in many years that The Stones played such an intimate venue. And they were stellar performances!”

Stones fans know that the shows resulted in side three of the band’s Love You Live album. In the years that followed, the El Mo was at times considered a coveted, A-list club and, at other points, a shoddy spot to be avoided—a perception largely contingent on who owned it at the time.

Look past the club’s “glory years” of 1972 through the mid-’80s—when owners Michael Baird and Tom Kristenbrun worked mainly with in-house booker David Bluestein—and you’ll find a long list of subsequent owners and operators, some lasting less than a year.

In light of the recent sale of both the El Mocambo Tavern’s building and business to Sam Grosso (owner of Cadillac Lounge) and Marco Petrucci (of 99 Sudbury), we examine a crucial turning point in the club’s history: the period of 1989 through 2001.

These transformative, albeit tumultuous, 12 years begin with the El Mo’s purchase by Petrungaro and end with its sale to Abbas Jahangiri. In between, there were successful stretches, many colourful characters, and a number of sudden closures.

Why 1989-2001 were important years at The El Mocambo: Encouraged by earlier El Mo owner Shaun Pilot, Enzo Petrungaro and a silent partner bought into the business at a point when the crowds weren’t coming. They began with widespread renovations.

“We immediately moved the stage [from the east side] back to the middle of the room upstairs, then gutted and rebuilt the dressing rooms, washrooms, kitchen and offices,” recalls Petrungaro. “We tore down and rebuilt all the bars, complete with new draft lines and pumps, installed new flooring, central air conditioning, exposed all of the bricks, and thoroughly cleaned and painted the entire space.

“We also built the staircase to the second floor at the back because the original one was condemned. This is where the bands would load-in their equipment. The renovations were extensive, expensive, and very necessary. Once we opened, the music was all that mattered.”

As a talent booker, Petrungaro didn’t limit the El Mocambo to specific sounds. He credits Pilot and industry veteran Joe Bamford with helping to fill the calendar in his early days, with local promoters and bands soon taking interest.

“We installed a great-sounding PA system upstairs, and a similar, scaled-down version for the ground floor. In spite of all the challenges and complaints with the building—the load-ins were a struggle, there were too many stairs to get to a dressing room with no private washroom, and you had to walk through the crowd to get to the stage—artists still loved performing there. The stage sounded great, the room sounded great, and the seating virtually enveloped the stage, creating a very unique and intimate experience not only for fans, but also for the artists.”

Petrungaro booked a number of respected artists in for weekly residencies, with acts like Danny Marks, Paul James, and Jack de Keyzer repping on the rock and blues front, while the-then-unknown Barenaked Ladies hosted their Barenaked Circus. Popular Front would also transform into The Lowest of the Low during their El Mo run. Arlene Bishop, Ron Sexsmith, Johnny Lovesin, and Alix Anthony all hosted residencies too, and an all-ages Saturday matinee-cum-jamboree with Melody Ranch proved popular.

This three-year period could be thought of as a second set of “glory days,” as Petrungaro and his partner made a viable go of it. Back then, up ‘n’ comers like Amanda Marshall, The Holly Cole Trio, Bourbon Tabernacle Choir, and Leslie Spit Treeo were booked regularly, alongside touring acts that ranged from blues/soul artists Rory Gallagher and James Cotton to folkies Fairport Convention and Sylvia Tyson, from alt-rockers The Feelies and Dead Milkmen to iconic industrial act KMFDM.

Sean D’Andrade with Buddy Guy (right) at the El Mo, circa 1992. Photo courtesy of D’Andrade.

Petrungaro has a number of El Mocambo shows from this era that he still considers personal favourites, among them “Pere Ubu; Buddy Guy, because afterwards he said it was one of his favourite stages to play in the world; Dr. John, because my late brother Sam was a huge fan and got to meet him and walk him to the stage; and Gonzalo Rubalcaba with Charlie Haden and Jack DeJohnette, because it was a super show from an extreme super-group. The Tom Robinson Band put on a great show, but it was also memorable because Rob Halford came in after his Judas Priest show at Maple Leaf Gardens and sat to watch from my table.”

Although they raised The El Mocambo’s profile and popularity, Petrungaro and his partner handed over the keys in 1992 when the building’s landlord requested a big rent increase. Petrungaro went on to book The Opera House for five years and has been the General Manager and booker at The Phoenix since 1997.

“In my opinion, Enzo and [his partner] were the last ‘great’ owners of the venue—it’s been a free-for-all since they closed,” states local concert-industry veteran Jeff Cohen. Cohen himself worked as an El Mo booker twice before going on to co-own Horseshoe Tavern, Lee’s Palace, Collective Concerts, and other businesses.

“When I was hired by Tom, the next owner [Editor's note: not to be confused with Tom Kristenbrun], in 1993 or so, my interest was to revive the venue to where they’d had it,” Cohen says. “I got the best of the local alterna-bands, like The Rheostatics, Bourbon Tabernacle Choir, The Waltons, and Furnaceface to play there weekends, and filled the mid-week with touring blues and roots music acts. On the first floor, we went no-cover and developed local acts like Headstones, Days of You, and The Mahones.

“I had the venue rocking during my first tenure as the talent buyer but, after two years, Tom fired me, saying he felt he could book it as well as me. Eight months later, the club went bankrupt.”

Cohen did another stint of booking for a new set of owners at The El Mocambo in 1996, but remained for less than a year before heading to the Horseshoe.

Musician William New also worked to keep the El Mo afloat during the turmoil of the mid-1990s. The Groovy Religion vocalist and main man behind three-decade-strong indie showcase Elvis Monday had already booked clubs including the original Drake Hotel and The Edgewater before coming to amp up the El Mocambo for five years, beginning in 1993.

His job was to fill both floors of the club seven nights per week, an impossible task as owners came and went.

“During the time that I was booking, I worked for five different situations of ownership, including a couple of landlord-in-possessions,” explains New. “What would happen is someone would disappear in the middle of the night; I’d come to work and there would be a padlock on the door. Then the landlord would want to keep it open while he would look for a buyer so he would get in touch with me and say, ‘Just keep going. Business as usual.’

First there was the Tom to whom Jeff Cohen referred.

“He told me his name was Tom Ancaster, but that was just the name he worked under,” offers New, who also says that Ancaster simply “disappeared.” [Note: in a comment posted November 26, 2012, in response to the original publication of this article, Ancaster states that his tenure at the El Mo ran from September 1991 to January 1995. He also disputes Cohen's claim that he was fired. See Ancaster's full comment below.]

Next, New recalls that a group of El Mocambo staff members, including soundman Courtney Ross, ran the club for the better part of a year, from 1995 into 1996, before the landlord repossessed and later sold the club to Lamin Dibba and Jim Eng.

New worked for them all, booking in various weeklies over the years, including his own Elvis Monday; John Borra and Frank Nevada’s acoustic Tune Saloon on Tuesdays; the infamous Tribute Wednesdays; and Sedated Sundays, a psychedelic night helmed by Steve Bromstein of Poppyseed & Love Explosion Orchestra.

“I was trying to do an indie-rock and alternative kind of thing, just because that’s all I knew,” says New of his programming focus. “I didn’t know what cover bands or R&B bands were good, despite the fact that the El Mocambo had a long history of doing those types of things. I just booked it as an extension of what I’d been doing at The Drake and Edgewater, and with my Elvis Mondays at various venues. More or less punk rock and edgy alternative stuff.”

New fondly recalls shows by the likes of Pete Best (The Beatles’ original drummer), Steve Hackett (ex-Genesis), and Alex Chilton. His years of Mondays were also celebrated with the 1994 release of Elvis Mondays Vol. 1 on Kinetic Records. Elvis Monday later returned to The Drake Hotel (post-2004 renovation), where they continue to this day.

By June of 1998, The El Mocambo was once again run down and losing patrons. To reverse its fortunes, owners Lamin Dibba and Jim Eng hired passionate, polarizing ex-Montrealer Dan Burke to book their club.

“When I first came to Toronto in November 1977 and listened to CFNY, Q-107 and CHUM FM, I’d always hear, ‘Tonight, under the Neon Palm!’” Burke begins. “When I started booking the club, it was on the doorstep of the glue factory. No concert promoters put shows there. The Neon Palm was an unlit, rusted eyesore. The plug was pretty close to being pulled on what I thought was a fabulous cultural landmark.”

Never known to shy away from a dingy rock bar or a challenge, Burke dug in. He’d spent the year before booking the short-lived Club Shanghai down the street, and had proved to be prescient in his taste. Burke promoted some of the first Toronto appearances by bands including The White Stripes, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and Montreal’s Tricky Woo.

“I’d quickly learned that, as a new player in the field, I had to tap into acts, labels, and booking agents that weren’t already sewn up by established competitors,” Burke writes in an email interview. “So that’s what I did—and very deeply so—once I was at The El Mocambo. Whatever was cutting-edge—The Toilet Boys from N.Y.C., stoner rock acts from Man’s Ruin Records, nerd heroes like Wesley Willis, electroclash ensembles like Chicks on Speed, Japan’s Zoobombs and The 5,6,7,8s, Montreal’s The Dears—I got the best of them, and made the El Mocambo an important international club again.”

The Deadly Snakes, The Sadies (sometimes with R&B legend Andre Williams), Danko Jones, Sum 41, and Peaches were among the local favourites booked by Burke. He was also responsible for repeat visits by Japanese noise rockers Zoobombs, who recorded their album, Bomb You Live, at the El Mo in April 2000, and released it on Toronto’s Teenage USA label in 2001.

“Being a show promoter is like gambling,” says Burke. “When you win, sometimes you also get to see a great show. When you lose, sometimes you get to see a great show. It’s the greatest job in the world if you can keep going.”

Who else played/worked there: It would be impossible to list all of the key bands, DJs, bookers, and promoters who played a role in The El Mocambo’s story from 1989-2001. Along with rock and roots music, there were goth and glam shows, hip-hop showcases, and even the occasional rave. Punk band The Sinisters played numerous Halloween shows. Hip-hop supergroup Gravediggaz made its Toronto debut at the El Mo in 1994, while Canadian hip-hop icons including Choclair, Rascalz, and Kardinal Offishall introduced their “Northern Touch” collaboration in the same room a few years later.

Video: Aldo Erdic

The seeds of Hot Stepper Productions’ long-running soul-funk monthly, Bump N’ Hustle, can even be traced to 464 Spadina. BNH mastermind Carlos Mondesir got his event-production career started there in 1995 after soundman Courtney Ross “roped me into” promoting the weekly Soul Sundays.

Working with DJ Curtis Smith and tutored by Ross, Mondesir learned to book bands and produce live shows.

Flyer courtesy of Carlos Mondesir.

“It made me a far more versatile promoter, coming from a DJ-focused club world,” says Mondesir, who brought performers including k-os, Jacksoul, Medeski Martin & Wood, Arcee and Fatski, Blaxam, Jukejoint, and Camille Douglas to the El Mo’s upstairs stage.

“There was an obvious history of soul and blues at the club, but we were into an updated soul style fused with new beats. My first gigs with DJs like Paul E. Lopes, Mike Tull, Jason Palma, Vancouver’s Luke McKeehan, and Atlanta’s DJ Injex were all there, too.”

But there are two DJ-driven events that will forever be synonymous with The El Mocambo in the late 1990s through to 2001: Davy Love’s Blow Up and Will Munro’s Vaseline (later renamed Vazaleen after threats of legal action from the namesake skin-care manufacturer).

DJ/promoter Davy Love’s incredibly popular Saturday weekly was “all about British pop music from the 1960s through 2000s,” says the man himself. ”We played indie, underground, massive sellers, and the way-out stuff, too.”

Davy Love at the El Mo. Photo courtesy of Davy Love.

Blow Up ran for more than 10 years at almost as many venues, including two stints at the El Mo. His first was in 1996; he would move the night, which drew more than 500 well-dressed, fiercely loyal followers each week, back to the venue in 1998 because he liked its new owners and vibe.

“Lamin and Jim are two of the nicest, most honest, straight-shooting guys I’ve ever dealt with in clubland,” shares Love, who also encouraged Dan Burke to come work for them.

The crowd at Blow Up. Photo courtesy of Davy Love.

“I also loved the venue, and its down-and-dirty history. I saw many shows there when I was a teenager. The El Mo will always be the greatest rock ‘n’ roll landmark in this city; it was the perfect place for Blow Up to thrive. It had just the right amount of seediness and rock ‘n’ roll-ness that appealed to both the pretty, rich kids who were out to rebel against their parents and the downtown working kids/art students who spent all their cash from their minimum-wage jobs on Saturday nights.”

Love was joined by DJs Duncan Rands, Adam Gorley, Johnny Culbert, and the duo of Trevor Young and Darrell Joseph a.k.a Bangers & Mash (“which was which, we never knew”). Bands, including Stars, performed live before the party got underway. Welsh band Super Furry Animals guest DJed, partied through the night (“It went on till the cleaners came in at 10 a.m. the next day”), and later asked Love to remix their 2003 single “Hello Sunshine.”

The celebs who frequented Blow Up were not limited to musicians.

“We had Will Ferrell and Janeane Garofalo dancing and drinking it up one night, and Dave Foley came many times,” spills Love. “So many famous faces were through Blow Up at the El Mo, but it was never a big deal to anyone. They were just having fun like everyone else.”

After all, the main attraction was Blow Up’s music, which blasted out of a powerful system set up for live music.

“The sound system was amazing,” Love extols. “It was a massive stack of speakers that boomed throughout the room. You could actually feel the music hit you, it was so loud.”

Meanwhile, artist Will Munro, along with a wonderfully motley crew of queers, would gather downstairs, monthly on Fridays, for Vaseline.

Dan Burke, who’d been tipped off to Munro by members of The Deadly Snakes (“they were the cornerstone of my local band alliances,” he says), gave Munro the chance to launch his queer-rock extravaganza in January of 2000.

“Will sure knew what he was doing!” exclaims Burke of the DJ/activist who lost his battle with brain cancer in May of 201o. “The first Vaseline drew over 200 people, and it soared from there. It was a fabulous experience working with Will. He was like the United Nations of gay people. What a diverse crowd.”

The Vaseline crew (clockwise from left): Tawny LeSabre, Will Munro, Bennett Jones Philips, Zoe Dodd, and John Caffery. Photo courtesy of Caffery.

“Vaseline was our fantasy event that actually materialized,” says Miss Barbrafisch, the metal-loving DJ who was a Vaseline resident from the start. “It was rockers, punks, metalheads, and misfits, weirdos of all stripes and genders. It was inherently informed by the identity politics of the ’90s, but without the anger. Vaseline was positivity and perversion and great music and great people. Once a month, the outsiders had a clubhouse.

“Vaseline was magical during the El Mo years,” she continues. “The entire historicity of the venue as a distinctly rock venue was a constant reminder that we didn’t need to compromise our musical perspectives.”

“Compromise” is a word that will never be associated with Vaseline.

“Peaches played the first Vaseline ‘Shame’ party,” recalls Kids on TV’s John Caffery, who first graced stages as a go-go dancer there, shaking it up alongside Coco LaCreme at Munro’s behest. “Peaches also played beats when Will pulled a rainbow flag out of his ass.”

That same June 200o Vaseline also featured guest DJ Miss Guy, of Toilet Boys fame. Other early guests included Vaginal Davis, Kembra Pfahler of The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black, and Cherie Currie, a former member of The Runaways who played live in June 2001, backed by a band of Toronto musicians.

Caffery—who was also game to be involved in Vaseline “stage antics like Bobbing for Butt Plugs, Cock Sucking contests, and Drag Queen Roller Derby”—feels passionately about this night that proved so popular it outgrew the El Mo’s small downstairs room, moved upstairs, and would later go on to pack Lee’s Palace.

“Vaseline was transformative for me, and created this massive shift in the way I perceived Toronto nightlife and the queer and trans community,” he says. “I started to think of clubs as a place to be creative, fuck shit up, and challenge public norms rather than simply a place to drink with friends. It also broke down a lot of the silos I saw within the community, with the bears, punks, leather women, and goths all partying together.”

Blow Up, Vaseline, and Dan Burke’s overall programming shifted the public perception of The El Mocambo. It may have been physically worn, but new audiences meant the club was solvent again.

“By 1999, we were making money,” states Burke. “In 2000 and 2001, we were a highly viable enterprise financially.”

Burke—with the help of Love, Munro, William New and countless bands who played benefit shows—even managed to raise the $22,000 required to fix the El Mo’s landmark palm sign in 1999. It was later damaged.

Blow Up marquee at the El Mo. Photo courtesy of Davy Love.

What happened to it: As has been well documented, 464 Spadina Ave. was sold to Abbas Jahangiri in 2001. His vision put the brakes on the Burke-led rebirth. Burke went out with a two-floor show on November 4, 2001. He also put up a fight and was famously handcuffed and evicted by police afterwards. Burke has long since booked for The Silver Dollar and, occasionally, at The Velvet Underground.

In his 11 years of owning the El Mo, Jahangiri both nurtured and took away. Though plans to transform the upstairs into a dance studio never fully materialized, his renovations reduced the floor—once The El Mocambo’s heart—to a shadow of its former self.

Still, thanks largely to the booking efforts of Yvonne Matsell—who worked under Jahangiri’s direction for the past decade—the club did stay afloat while featuring shows in the refurbished ground-floor room by the likes of Julie Doiron, Patrick Wolf, Holy Fuck, La Roux, and People Under the Stairs. DJs were also more welcome than ever, with dozens of dance parties bringing house, funk, techno, drum ‘n’ bass and more to the two floors. Jahangiri recently decided to sell the building in order to devote his time to missionary work.

New co-owner Grosso has already made it clear that his El Mocambo will return to the rock and roots-music focus of earlier decades. He has referenced The Rolling Stones repeatedly in interviews while expressing sentiments like “we want to bring great rock ‘n’ roll back to the city.”

Grosso also raised many eyebrows by stating flatly that he won’t feature hip-hop. It’s an odd, and questionable, sentiment at a point when the influence of hip-hop is so pervasive across all contemporary music.

“I think Sam has a preference to roots-geared genres,” offers Matsell by email. “After all, he has made the Cadillac Lounge into a successful venue that gears itself to those tastes. He does know that there is some really good hip-hop out there, so perhaps his comment was more off the cuff. Time will tell.”

Matsell, who continues as the El Mo’s main talent booker, tells me that the current priorities are fixing the neon sign, adding air conditioning and proper heating, renovating the bathrooms, and more.

“The upstairs room will be changed to look like when the El Mocambo was having its heydays in the ’70s.”

The reno process is being documented by posts to The Original El Mocambo Tavern Facebook group, where band listings are also found. The El Mo is currently open for shows Thursday through Saturday. Expect a re-launch party come spring.

Although Matsell emphasizes that “I will still book local and upcoming artists; that has always been a mandate in all the years I have been booking clubs,” there is concern that Grosso may just be dwelling a little too heavily on the El Mo’s past.

“I wish Sam the very best,” offers Jeff Cohen. “His other venues are wonderful, but what that venue needs is to reach out to local promoters and book the best new bands in North America, not talk about who played there some 40 years ago. No venue today can survive without being focused on new music, lest it be an oldies club or a generic folk or blues club.”

“I would tell Sam and his partner to embrace the history of the building, but don’t dwell on it,” echoes Enzo Petrungaro. “Make some of your own!”

“Don’t limit your options—you may not have as many as you’d like,” says Mondesir.

That said, one El Mocambo alumnus is eager to return. Davy Love, now owner of The Bristol Yard restaurant, will host his 18th-annual Blow Up Holiday Party there on Dec. 15.

“I booked it the very same day I heard that Sam bought it,” he says.

Addendum: In September 2014, Grosso announced that the El Mocambo had been sold and that the club would close as a live music venue for good. On November 6, the date that the El Mo had been set to shutter its doors, a surprise announcement was made: investment maverick and Dragons’ Den star Michael Wekerle had purchased the building with the intent to keep the El Mocambo alive.  He plans to renovate, and hire an experienced team to help launch the club’s new chapter.

Thank-you to Miss Barbrafisch, Carlos Mondesir, Dan Burke, Davy Love, Enzo Petrungaro, Jeff Cohen, John Caffery, William New, and Yvonne Matsell for contributing. Thanks also to Amy Hersenhoren, Dave Munro, Jonathan Ramos, and Stuart Berman.

The post Then & Now: The El Mocambo, 1989 – 2001 appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.