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

By: DENISE BENSON

Club: The Guvernment complex, 132 Queens Quay East

Years in operation: 1996 – 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theory in KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Original flyer for Gallery. Courtesy of Sydney Blu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Closing night video by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

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

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

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

Demolition of KoolHaus in progress. Photo by Kurtis Hooper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the second half of the 1990s, the iconic purple building on the southeast corner of Queen and Bathurst underwent a transformation from dance club to all-ages live music hub. What now houses a modern furniture and décor store was once home to punk, metal, hip-hop, Darkrave, and a whole bunch of proud music misfits.

By: DENISE BENSON

Club: The Big Bop, 651 Queen W.

Years in operation: 1997 – 2010

History: Often, we must look back in order to move forward. That’s certainly the case with this story. When last we delved into the history of The Big Bop, it was during its period as a dance club owned by the Ballinger brothers.

Interviewees for that story were hazy, at best, about the closing of the Ballinger’s Bop. It was clear that the venue had suffered financial hardships from 1994, when it went into receivership, but concrete details about its eventual end – let alone its evolution as a club space – were scant.

As it turns out, the original Big Bop continued to operate until 1996 under the management of Peter Ballinger.

“Peter was the least seen and the least involved until the Ballingers bought Webster Hall, and the other three brothers – Lonnie, Steve and Doug – were in New York,” recalls Trevor Mais who, as DJ Tex, rocked crowds in the building through three different club incarnations.

Mais was an employee at the original Big Bop from 1989, working as busboy, bar back, lighting tech and, from 1993, DJ. While he also did lights at Go-Go and played at clubs including Boom Boom Room, The Phoenix, Joker, and Beat Junkie as DJ Tex, Mais had especially deep ties to Big Bop. He tells me that the club truly struggled from 1995. Various attempts at revival failed.

In spring of 1996, the building at 651 Queen West opened as Freedom: The Nightclub.

Promotion for the short-lived Freedom nightclub. Image courtesy of Trevor Mais.

“The transition to Freedom was helmed by Jim Tsiliras, who [told me his] father Nick had owned the building since it was the Holiday Tavern, and that the Ballingers leased it from them,“ says Mais, who played rock, retro, R&B and disco on Freedom’s ground floor Wednesdays through Fridays.

“The Big Bop’s main floor [street level] only closed for one week during the transition to Freedom,” he recalls. “I never stopped working; the main floor was always a viable source of income. That’s why they didn’t overhaul it. The second floor, however, got a million dollar overhaul, and was closed for at least six months.”

Mark Micallef, a Toronto club veteran who DJed at venues including The Copa, Klub Max, and original Big Bop, concurs with the timeline and details offered by Mais.

Micallef was a resident DJ on Freedom’s second floor for the club’s first few months, but says that even with “completely new sound and lighting” and a clubbier approach to the music played, the venue “never really took off.”

Micallef moved on to play at Joker, located at 318 Richmond West. Freedom came to a close a short while later.

In 1997, the building was suddenly re-branded as The Big Bop by new owner Dominic Chiaromonte, the man who would come to paint it purple and guide the venue, however inadvertently, in a very different direction.

Previously, Chiaromonte had owned Ukrainian Caravan restaurant, with locations in Etobicoke and Yorkville. He tells me that after a decade of operation, Ukrainian Caravan went under. Next, he had three silent partners (including cousin Dominic Tassielli) who wanted to invest in a nightclub with him.

They looked at a number of downtown locations over the course of almost a year, until the Bop building came up. It was in the hands of banks at that time.

“I knew of the Bop because I used to be a patron, especially on Depression Wednesdays,” says Chiaromonte during a lengthy phone conversation. “The Big Bop was the nightclub for a thousand people in Toronto back in the mid ‘80s to early ‘90s.

“I knew the building, and liked it. We jumped on it. It was easy to jump on because the banks wanted to get rid of it. We worked out a very good price for that time.”

The new Big Bop, with windows, circa 1997. Photo courtesy of Trevor Mais.

“When Dom took over in 1997, the building never closed either, and he switched names right away, without hoopla or fanfare,” recalls Mais.

Without missing a beat, DJ Tex went on to spin classic rock and alternative on the new Big Bop’s main floor.

“In the new Bop era, we moved the DJ booth right to street level, and opened the corner windows so you could look right into the belly of the beast. Some staunch Bop purists didn’t like the change, but change was happening all around – musically, and in terms of owners, staff, times, fads and looks.”

L-to-R: Steff, Karen, Trevor ‘DJ Tex’ Mais, Sherry in the Bop’s main level, 1998. Photo courtesy of Mais.

The conversion: While the capacity of the club – roughly 1,000 people, between all floors – never changed, the Big Bop’s main function sure did. Chiaromonte hadn’t planned a shift from dance club to live music venue, but that’s what happened.

“To tell you the truth, we didn’t know what we were doing,” he admits. “We just wanted to get into the club with the DJs, and at that time that seemed more logical, in terms of the salaries. We realized within months that it wasn’t going to work out. We just couldn’t compete with the big dance clubs at the time, like Joker, Whiskey Saigon and Limelight, where people were flocking. That area had become the core for DJed nightclubs by then. We realized ‘This is why the Big Bop went under.’”

A musician friend, Yurko Mychaluk of Seven Year Itch, suggested that Chiaromonte and partners book bands. Inspired by the support of live music at venues like the Horseshoe, Lee’s Palace and El Mocambo, he agreed.

Mychaluk also suggested Chiaromonte hire talent buyer Yvonne Matsell, who had booked blues acts at Albert’s Hall, been central to the success of outstanding Queen West roots and indie rock venue Ultrasound, and also worked at the Horseshoe.

Though The Big Bop was not known in live music circles at the time, Matsell agreed to check out the spot.

“When I saw the middle room, I felt that the venue had great potential,” she recalls. “I thought that if I could bring my following, the room would be a great space for bands to play.

“The upstairs room was really lovely and I thought it was prime for singer-songwriters. It was very intimate, and the thing that sold me on it was all of the fairy lights in the ceiling. They also had a piano, which wasn’t any good, but lent itself.”

Matsell agreed to book those rooms, which she named Reverb and Holy Joe’s. The venue’s identity as a dance club was put to rest as sound, staging and lights were brought in.

Reverb room by day. Photo courtesy of The Big Bop Facebook page.

As a good-sized room with a large stage and great sightlines, Reverb became a new home for record label showcases, touring acts, and more established Toronto bands. Matsell’s early bookings, which set the tone, included Dave Alvin of the Blasters, Austin’s Alejandro Escovedo, Michael Franti’s Spearhead, and the first Toronto appearance of Third Eye Blind.

“The Rheostatics played a packed gig the night that Princess Diana died [August 31, 1997],” recalls Matsell. “I vividly remember her tragic accident being played out on the bank of TV screens over the Reverb bar, while the Rheostatics played, unaware of what was happening and why the audience had their backs to them.”

Holy Joe’s became known a cozy spot to catch talented singer-songwriters and largely solo artists.

The stairs to Holy Joe’s. Photo courtesy of The Big Bop Facebook page.

“I began residencies up there with people who, at that time were really new to the music scene in Toronto, like Jason Collett, Hawksley Workman, Danny Michel, Emm Gryner, and Amy Millan, before she was in Stars.”

“Yvonne kick-started us, there’s no doubt about it,” credits Chiaromonte. “She was the one who gave us credibility, and basically put us on the map. She knew who to talk to, and all kinds of bands started to come and play.”

Despite her efforts and connections, Matsell was let go after about two years (“They decided that they were paying me too much money, and thought they could do it themselves.”). She immediately went on to book seminal College Street music hub, Ted’s Wrecking Yard.

By this point, the Big Bop featured live music in all three rooms. Chiaromonte had to fill them.

“There was a period of time that I was booking, likely for about six months,” he recalls. “I tried to go the same route as Yvonne, musically, but I couldn’t get the bands that she got, and I couldn’t compete against the Horseshoe because they had all of these loyal bands and agents who didn’t want to play for me. It was very discouraging and really rough, but what came into the picture was a lot of young bands.

“I remember talking to my lawyer and asking ‘What’s the rule for having all-ages events at a nightclub?’ He told me we could do it. He also told me that the chances of getting busted when you do all-ages are a lot greater, but I had no choice. And what I realized was ‘Hey, I could charge rent for all-ages shows.’ Because we wouldn’t make money from alcohol sales, the promoter would have to pay us rent to compensate. For some reason, bang – It boomed! We became known as the all-ages club.”

The transformation was made all the more complete when Chiaromonte hired Noel Peters to book the Bop’s street level space in mid-1999. Peters, who had founded Inertia Entertainment in ‘96, primarily promoted metal and punk shows, featuring both touring and local acts. He gave the ground floor its name.

“As the Reverb had an identity as did Holy Joe’s, my thought was to view the entire complex as ‘The Big Bop’ and give the ground floor its own Identity,” Peters explains. “Metal and punk music can basically be a religious experience so I came up with ‘Kathedral.’”

Reverb, Holy Joe’s and Kathedral would retain their names –and feature wildly varied sounds- for the rest of the Big Bop’s run.

The main entrance. Photo courtesy of The Big Bop Facebook page.

Why it was important:“The Big Bop complex was a classic product of old Queen West culture – free wheeling, open to all, value priced, hard drinking and disdainful of intolerance of any type,” states concert promoter Ewan Exall. “That was reflected in the booking policy, which at some point brought just about anything you could imagine to one of the three stages.”

Exall, who’d grown up downtown and landed his first job next door to the Bop, at army surplus and outdoor store King Sol, was happy to book shows at the corner of Queen and Bathurst. He brought in dozens of touring punk, hardcore, metal and indie bands – initially working as part of Against the Grain Concerts, then on his own – between 1998 and 2010.

“I really loved the Big Bop, and it was a central part of my life for 10 years.”

It was easy to love the Bop building as a music fan. All three rooms were a great fit for their function. Reverb had particularly good sound, a wide layout, and was an ideal showcase space for music of any genre. Holy Joe’s, with its couches, felt like a living room where you might just discover your next favourite artist. Kathedral was dark, gritty and perfectly suited to aggressive rock.

Chiaromonte’s need to fill all three rooms multiple nights weekly resulted in an unrestricted booking policy.

“We opened the Bop to anything and everything. We opened it up to whoever wanted to book it. It didn’t have to be a metal club. It didn’t have to be a punk club. Or a rock club. Whatever came around, that’s what was slated for that day.”

Talent bookers / promoters Andrea Caldwell and Noel Peters at the club in 2002. Photo courtesy of Peters.

It helped that Chiaromonte had some solid in-house bookers who could make sense of it all. Soon after Peters was hired to focus largely on Kathedral, Andrea Caldwell was brought on board to help book Reverb and Holy Joe’s.

Though she didn’t then have much experience, Caldwell was immersed in different music scenes, from acoustic to funk, hip-hop, and indie rock. She had worked at Sneaky Dee’s and Gasworks, organized singer-songwriter nights at The Artful Dodger, and got hired at the Bop after producing a multi-venue benefit series for The Red Door Women’s Shelter.

“The show at Reverb went really well, and Dom needed a booking agent,” Caldwell recalls. “By the end of the night, he offered me a job. I woke up the next morning and started calling all the musicians I knew.

“Dominic’s main concern as a club owner was to book events that would bring crowds into the venue; he didn’t favour any particular scene or make his choices based on musical opinions,” adds Caldwell. “That gave us the freedom to take chances, and support several different music scenes at the same time. As well, it was the only club around that supported the all-ages scene, which attracted many talented kids who just needed a chance to get up on a stage and work things out.”

While not all shows held at the Bop were all-ages, most were. Noel Peters agrees that this was both rare and much needed.

“The Bop was really the only small all-ages-friendly venue in the city, and for live music, it was great to have the opportunity for a younger generation to come and see their favourite bands or to discover upcoming ones. Within a year or so, demand was high for the space, and we had the Bop running as an almost seven-days-a-week operation.”

This gave rise to a new generation of musicians – and promoters – who were able to develop within the purple and black walls.

Jake Disman, sound tech, in Kathedral. Photo courtesy of Scoot DeVille.

“I think the Bop was most important for being the place that gave almost every band a chance to play their first gig ever,” says Jake Disman, an audio technician who had previously done sound at the Cabana Room, and started at the Bop in 1998 as a fill-in for house tech Aaron Michielsen.

“Bands that had no background, and no real fan base, who could never have gotten a chance to play the Horseshoe, played the Bop,” Disman adds. “Kids grew up [seeing bands] there, and when they started their own bands, that’s where they aspired to play.”

Bands like Alexisonfire, Down With Webster and Billy Talent, while still known as Pezz, played some of their earliest shows on Big Bop stages.

“Down With Webster’s Tyler Armes and his friend were on the streetcar one day and they had heard that the Big Bop did all-ages,” recalls Chiaromonte, “They were young and couldn’t book themselves any place so they came to talk to me. I set them up with a gig, and over the course of 10 years, they did between 10 to 20 shows at Big Bop. Now they’re huge.

“Same thing with Alexisonfire; they played our club quite a bit, and then when they got big, they did a special show at the Bop, which was very cool of them.”

Down With Webster, in fact, recorded live sets at Reverb to compile a six-track debut EP titled The Reverb Session July ’03. They sold this CDR at gigs.

“There were a lot of firsts for artists and promoters in that club,” says Caldwell; “First live show, first weekend gig, first time playing a new song live, and so on. The Big Bop gave you space to try out ideas.

“Also, the great thing about having three floors is that we could accommodate musicians and bands at all different stages of their development. I was given the opportunity to book residencies and on-going showcases with artists such as Down With Webster, Cleavage, Pilate, Lindy Ortega, Justin Nozuka, Wave, Graph Nobel, Samba Squad, Die Mannequin, and many more. It was always wonderful when the crowds grew from 10 people to hundreds.”

The development of bands on Bop stages contributed, in turn, to the growth of this city’s live music scene. More bands, more fans, more people out supporting live music would be the simple equation. There was also no shortage of music industry people who spent a great deal of time in that building, scouting and showcasing talent.

“We saw up-and-coming bands perfect their sets and grow their careers right before our eyes,” describes sound tech Lucy Van Nie, who launched his audio career at Holy Joe’s in 2000.

Audio tech Lucy Van Nie at work. Photo courtesy of him.

“I remember mixing Tegan and Sara there to a crowd of about 65 in the early 2000s,” says Van Nie, later the house tech of Reverb. “I remember mixing Hedley for a label showcase a few months before they blew up and took over pop rock in Canada. Bands like My Darkest Days, Alexisonfire, Die Mannequin, and Canadian rockabilly royalty The Creepshow used the Reverb as a home base to try out material and tighten up stage shows before first big singles and national tours.”

And then there were the outsiders. The Big Bop – Kathedral in particular – was known as the place to catch punk, metal and hardcore bands, both touring and local.

“Kathedral was a dive to say the least, so that’s where almost all of the punk and metal shows were,” describes longtime Bop staffer Scoot DeVille. “You can’t really destroy a place that’s already been destroyed. There were so many holes in the walls.”

Hundreds of local punk acts played the various Bop stages over the years, many of them booked by John Tard of The 3tards.

“John brought in just a staggering amount of punk bands, mostly Canadian,” credits Jake Disman. “He was a very big part of the all-ages successes that we had.”

Exall also recalls that “Over the nine or so years I did shows there, a who’s who of indie, punk, emo, metal, and hardcore touring acts came through the door.”

His top memories include performances by Cro-Mags as well as fellow American punks AFI (“Those shows were always total mayhem, kids swinging from the pipes, the whole bit.”) as well as a certain dubstep star in the making.

“An incredibly young Sonny Moore – 15, I think – fronted his screamo metal band From First to Last at the Kathedral in 2004. They were second out of three bands on some touring package. I always knew that kid would be a star. We at Embrace still work with him as Skrillex, which is one of the things I am proudest of in this stage of my career.

“But the consensus seems to be that the best show I ever did there was At the Drive-In opening for Get Up Kids,” Exall adds. “No one really knew who ATDI were at that point; the Vaya 10-inch had just been released. All standard rock superlatives apply to their performance that night.”

Exall also speaks of booking local punk band No Warning multiple times, including on bills with King Size Braces (“Those nights were electric! It was just kids having fun, all stage dives, high fives, and the excitement of hanging out on the block outside.”), and happily recounts the tale of catching a classic Canadian punk pairing.

“One of the times BFGs opened for Dayglo Abortions sticks out. Kids went crazy for the Goofs in a way that I hadn’t seen since the ‘80s. I realized that the entire building was full of people participating in a street culture that we all helped create. That was a pretty awesome moment.”

Damian Abraham of award-winning hardcore band Fucked Up also speaks fondly of the punk culture that found a home in the Bop’s rooms. He started going to shows there in the late ‘90s, and thinks of the Bop as “a seminal space.”

“I got to see some amazing shows in the building, like The Swarm’s last show; tonnes of amazing No Warning gigs; the last Our War show, and various incarnations of the Cro-Mags,” Abraham enthuses. “When I was able to finally start playing there, it felt as if Fucked Up had crossed some threshold of legitimacy that my previous bands hadn’t. Also, it is the venue where I saw my future wife Lauren for the first time. ”

Fucked Up played Kathedral and Reverb close to 10 times during the 2000s, including two of their annual Halloween shows, but Abraham’s recollections tend to feature other bands.

“When No Warning opened for Hatebreed there, a bunch of friends they had met on tour from Boston drove up. Up until this point in Toronto, people had been moshing, for the most part, in a very MTV ‘push mosh’ kind of way. When these people from Boston hit the floor and started throwing fists and skanking and getting super low, the Toronto kids took note. From that point on, hard style mashing hit Toronto. [Producer/manager] Greig Nori and Deryck Whibley from Sum 41 were also there, checking out No Warning as a potential new band to manage. They signed them that night I believe.”

Thrash metal band Nevermore performs at Kathedral in 2000. Photo courtesy of Noel Peters.

There was a heavy crossover of punks and metalheads at the venue.

“My favourite moments at the Bop as a patron were all of Noel’s metal shows,” raves Exall. “Half the time I had no idea who was playing – ‘Some new band from Norway’ – so my housemates and I would end up accidentally seeing Emperor or something.”

Peters did indeed bring in “Norwegian black metal kings Emperor, heading the Kings Of Terror tour.”

It’s one of the shows Peters cites as a highlight in the Bop building. There were many others.

Stormtroopers Of Death at Kathedral in November 1999. Photo courtesy of Noel Peters.

“Bringing Stormtroopers of Death in; they never toured, but did once for Bigger Than The Devil. The bar was almost drunk dry that night,” says the promoter. “Cradle Of Filth made their first-ever Canadian appearance, back when they were still dark and controversial.

“Longstanding relationships I have with some bands were born in the Bop building; Opeth sold out two shows in one month, playing Kathedral first, and then Reverb 21 days later. Last month, they sold out Kool Haus, presented by me. Mastodon played to maybe 20 people their first time through Toronto; Mercyful Fate came through, and then King Diamond the following year. Having Mayhem successfully enter Canada in 2001 for their first-ever Canadian appearance was memorable, as was booking [country act] Corb Lund and the Hurtin’ Albertans only to have maybe 20 people show up. This is only the tip of the iceberg.”

Opeth at Kathedral in 2001. Photo courtesy of Noel Peters.

Peters left the Bop behind in March 2003, citing dissatisfaction with in-house sound, Chiaromonte’s raising of rental rates, and having to put out fires (literally).

“It was fun, and it was good to have a home base for four years, but eventually the business of Inertia outgrew what the Big Bop had to offer in terms of quality, capacity and a professional working environment.” (Inertia marks 20 years of presenting aggressive music in Toronto this year.)

The Bop’s multiple rooms featured far more than rock. The building also became an unlikely home to raves and electronic music. Goodfellaz and Nocturnal Commissions threw a pile of parties there while Shakti Collective presented a number of blacklight trance events. DJs such as Dragnfly, Lady Bass and Unabomber a.k.a. Christian Poulsen (Hugs Not Drugs) were frequently found on flyers listing 651 Queen West as the address. There were the Ipanema raves on long weekends and, of course, there was Darkrave.

Lloyd Warren a.k.a. DJ Lazarus is the driving force behind Darkrave. DJing in Toronto’s alternative clubs since the early ‘90s, Warren began to play at the Bop in 1998, when he moved his popular monthly Fetish Masquerade events over from Club Shanghai (the Subspace fetish parties later took root at the venue too.)

Flyer for the first Darkrave event courtesy of Lloyd ‘DJ Lazarus’ Warren.

Lazarus launched Darkrave in 1999.

“I wanted to create a rave environment, but with darker edged music,” Warren explains. “Darkrave evolved from featuring mostly industrial to incorporating more psytrance, hardcore/gabber, and dark techno.”

At its height, the monthly party took over the entire Bop complex as it attracted crowds upwards of eight hundred “Goths, ravers, clubbers, normals, and people who just found themselves there.

“The Big Bop was huge and cavernous. It was grungy, a bit run down, and a glorious party space,” Warren describes. “There was always a room or corner to be explored. Multiple staircases led to different rooms, meaning it was easy to get lost. It was dark – eternally night. You never knew what time it was because there were no uncovered windows to let the sunrise in.”

“The Bop was a magical complex,” agrees Greg Gallant who, as DJ Phink, played alongside Lazarus at the Bop for both Darkrave and Fetish Masquerade. “It was multi levels of bouncing, fun times. I remember we got UV reactive bubbles a few times for Darkrave. It was fun watching people catch the bubbles with their faces, and then learn that their face also glowed under black light.”

Bouncing good times at Darkrave. Photos courtesy of Lloyd ‘DJ Lazarus’ Warren.

Darkrave events tended to feature playful props, like UV lighting, cotton candy machines, and bouncy castles. Some parties really stood out.

“The Darkrave with VNV Nation in 2000 was crazy,” says Warren. “I have never seen so many people in the Reverb before. Patrons were literally standing on the wall rails because the floor was so packed. The energy was electrifying.

“One night, an electrical fire started on a hydro pole just outside the Bop. It caused a full blackout inside while hundreds of people were dancing. Instead of everyone leaving, we lit candles and some patrons went on to the stage and started drumming on improvised objects. The dancefloor resumed, and there was a real sense of community.”

Gallant, who had played earlier as Phink at venues including Sanctuary Vampire Sex Bar and Area 51, was also an anchor of the alt-rave community that gravitated to the Bop, as well as to Funhaus, the club Warren operated across the street from 2003 to 2008 (Chiaromontewas a partner). Phink started the Eloko psy-trance series at Funhaus, having already turned heads with parties held at the Bop.

“The first real party I put on at The Big Bop was with my partners in the Deep Sea Fish psytrance collective,” says Gallant. “We brought Infected Mushroom for the B.P. Empire tour, their first time in Toronto. It was a great, sold out event, and they kept the floor bouncing right ‘til 5am.” (A partial list of raves held at the Bop, with flyers, can be found here.)

DJ Lazarus (left) and DJ Phink playing different rooms at a Darkrave. Photo courtesy of Lloyd Warren.

Fact was, you never knew what you’d find in the building from night to night.

“We were mostly known for rock, punk, and metal, but it was common to have metal on one floor, a hip-hop show upstairs, and a singer-songwriter showcase in Joe’s,” reminds core staffer Scoot DeVille. “We were the only venue in the city where you could walk into a punk show on the ground floor, say ‘This band sucks,’ go upstairs and see a touring metal band, again say ‘This band sucks,’ and then go up to the third floor to see Esthero having band practice.

“It was actually really fucked up, but it worked. We had everyone from 14-year-old girls dancing in their bras at a rave at 4:30am, to their moms coming to see the throwback hair metal bands they grew up with.”

Scoot DeVille (centre) with then-Mayor David Miller, and Reverb bartender Helena. Photo courtesy of DeVille.

The club’s lack of curation may have been borne out of necessity, but in the end, it defined The Big Bop.

“Other clubs in the city at the time, and I mean this respectfully, were too well curated to let our type of music or any really outside music happen there,” says Damian Abraham; “But the Bop didn’t give a fuck, and booked in Darkrave, black metal, hip-hop, hardcore, screamo – all the stuff that wasn’t cool enough at the time for some of the other venues in town.

“It was like CBGBs in that way; [CBGBs’ owner] Hilly gets credit for having this amazing ear, but his genius was having an open door booking policy. Television and Ramones were able to play CBGBs when they couldn’t find other places in New York to play. That is the Bop’s gift to Toronto: it wasn’t too caught up in any one thing to prevent the next thing from developing.”

Fucked Up perform “Crusades” at Reverb, 2009. Video posted by PunksAndRockers.com

Who else played there: Many who went to Reverb during its early years, myself included, will associate that room with some incredible hip-hop, funk, and soul events. We have promoters Carlos Mondesir of Hot Stepper Productions and Jonathan Ramos of R.E.M.G. to thank for many of them.

Mondesir presented Ninja Tune artists like Amon Tobin, DJ Food, and DJ Vadim, as well as the likes of DJ Cam, Nightmares on Wax, and a very special touring group of turntablists in 1997.

Deep Concentration DJs (L-to-R): Kid-Koala, Jazzbo, Peanut Butter Wolf, Cut Chemist, A-Trak, and Grouch in behind. Photo courtesy of Carlos Mondesir.

“Deep Concentration was a tour for an album by that name featuring Kid Koala, Peanut Butter Wolf, Cut Chemist, A-Trak, and I added Grouch to rep Toronto,” Mondesir describes. “It was probably the best turntablist gig this city has ever seen. A-Trak was added to the bill at the urging of Kid Koala’s manager. We had to make special arrangements with his family for him to come and play. Needless to say, it was nuts.”

A young DJ A-Trak at Reverb, 1997. Photo courtesy of Carlos Mondesir.

Also in ’97, and against many odds, Hot Stepper presented Japanese artists United Future Organization for a sold-out show.

“I did that gig against the advice of my DJs,” recalls Mondesir; “I’d say it confirmed the viability of nu jazz in this city for many. Marilyn Manson also attended, which was really odd.”

On the live soul, jazz and funk tip, Hot Stepper’s signature Bump N’ Hustle series found its footing at Reverb.

“We’ve been doing Bump N’ Hustle so long that many people don’t know that for the first six years or so, it was a full live showcase of emerging soul music artists. Vocalists like Divine Brown, Glenn Lewis and tonnes of others rose through our gigs. Bump N’ Hustle was a massive source of pride in local music ability and community.”

Bump N’ Hustle band, featuring the late David ‘Soulfingaz’ Williams. Photo courtesy of Carlos Mondesir.

Surprisingly, Hot Stepper even did some Garage 416 house events at Reverb, including the presentations of Steve “Silk” Hurley, Joe Claussell, and Pevin Everett with his live band, Seance Divine.

“The Reverb sound was great,” explains Mondesir of presenting Garage 416 events outside of its main home of the time, Roxy Blu.“ Reverb wasn’t aesthetically nice, but turn the lights down, light some candles, roll some cool AV and it’s all good. I used great local AV guys regularly, Projektor and then Mix Motion. That compensated a lot.” (Hot Stepper turns 20 this year, with other mainstay events including Break for Love and their Sunday afternoon summer series at Cube.)

Dancefloor action at Bump N’ Hustle inside Reverb. Photo courtesy of Carlos Mondesir.

As for Jonathan Ramos, his R.E.M.G. logo was featured on a lot of flyers promoting shows at Reverb.

“Jonathan was instrumental in building a quality hip-hop scene at the Bop,” credits Caldwell. “He opened a lot of doors for Canadian hip-hop artists. [Through his shows] I was fortunate to work with artists such as The Rascalz, Ivana Santilli, k-os, Choclair, Michie Mee, and Classified, plus Jurassic 5, Ursula Rucker, and so many more.”

Ramos, who formed R.E.M.G. in 1993, booked Reverb regularly from 1998 on.

“Their booking policy made it accessible to acts, promoters and genres that didn’t always ‘fit’ at other venues,” writes Ramos.

“At that time, hip-hop wasn’t the omnipresent genre it is today and wasn’t ‘welcome’ in most venues. There was a misconception that these shows came with low bar sales and attracted violence, and as such most venues either didn’t allow the shows or levied prohibitive rental fees.”

REMG flyer for Raekwon at Reverb, 2000. Courtesy of Jonathan Ramos.

Some of the other acts Ramos booked in at the Bop include Dilated Peoples, The Hieroglyphics, The Coup, Spearhead, and The Beat Junkies. There’s one show that still stands out to him.

“Talib Kweli, September 2006. Kweli was at the top of his game, had one of his biggest hits, and was one of the first to put on a young Chicago producer named Kanye West. The energy in the room was palpable. Both Kweli and the fans had an amazing time.” (Ramos remains active as a concert promoter and is now the Director of Live Music for INK Entertainment.)

Talib Kweli live at Reverb in 2006. Video posted by mymanhenri.

Lots of other promoters, performers and DJs took note of the above events and brought in their own. DJs Kola, Serious and Fase produced parties. The Salads hosted their ‘Salad Gold’ series; Shaun Boothe presented The BarberShop Show; and James Bryan performed with loads of different projects, including The Philosopher Kings and Sunshine State. African percussionist Vinx hosted jam sessions that brought out some of this city’s best players and vocalists while local artists Blaxam, Jacksoul, The Pocket Dwellers and Fefe Dobson, among many others, brought the funk and soul.

Flyers courtesy of Andrea Caldwell.

From Maestro Fresh Wes to Metric or the Misfits, early Death From Above 1979 appearances, and even a Megadeath acoustic show, the possibilities were endless.

“The variety of events that we could be facing from week to week was unbelievable,” summarizes soundman Disman.

“One of the best shows that I remember was Asian Dub Foundation in Reverb, which was packed beyond belief. I was trying to do sound for a show in the Kathedral, with maybe 25 people in attendance, but when the audience upstairs started jumping up and down in time, the ceiling of Kathedral was flexing so much that the bands refused to get on stage. We cancelled the show downstairs, and I went up to join the party.“

Poster wall of memories. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Who else worked there: “Soundmen Jake Disman, Aaron Michielsen, ‘Lucy’ David Van Nie, Hiroto Tabata and Brendan Bane were the guys who I depended on the most to ensure the musicians were happy,” credits Caldwell. “They were true professionals who didn’t allow their own personal tastes to dictate their ability to do a great job for artists. Those guys always went above and beyond to make sure the whole night ran smoothly.”

Sound tech Brendan Bane. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Interviewees repeatedly mention the Bop’s many fine sound techs, with others including the Kathedral’s Mike Unger, and Greg Below, who worked both Kathedral and Reverb before co-founding Distort Entertainment and managing bands including Alexisonfire.

Following Peters and Caldwell as in-house bookers were Rosina Tassone and then Cindy Parreira, who has posted more than 100 live clips from shows at the Bop to her YouTube channel. (Caldwell, who left the Bop in the mid 2000s, went on to work with James Bryan at his UMI Entertainment and continued to book shows. She left Toronto three years ago, returning to Sault Ste. Marie where she now works in animal rescue.)

Bartender Alex. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Tina and Chris, November 2007. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Clubs of the Bop’s size also rely on a solid bar and security staff, with some of the core members mentioned including Sandy Bergin, Jamie Iker, Karen Neko, Pinky Love, Nina Tereschenko, Andrew Ryan Fox, Sylvana Ched, Steve McLeod, Peter ‘Slim’ Betley, Hubert Wysokinski and Marco Di.

Ken Stone was also a central figure in the Big Bop family.

“Ken was barback in his ‘50s,” shares DeVille. “Sadly, he passed away from lung cancer in 2005. We had a wake for him – Dom actually paid for his cremation – at the Bop. We all went up on the roof, very drunk, and Dom gave us all a handful of Ken’s ashes. We each went to our own little spot on the roof, cried, said a few words, and scattered his ashes. We were truly family; we went through births, deaths, divorces, breakups, addictions, recoveries, everything together.”

Audio engineer Van Nie, who says he mixed 35 to 50 bands a week at the Bop, agrees.

“The Reverb was my second living room; I often spent more time there than at home, as did most of the Bop staff. It was our refuge, our creative outlet. Through the rough times and the happy times, we were one dysfunctional family, raising a new generation of audio engineers, promoters, musicians and bartenders.”

“I used to call the Bop ‘The purple people eater’ because once you came there, you never left,” cracks DeVille, who worked as a busser, occasional bartender, and bouncer.

“If you could work at the Bop, you could handle anything. From drunk minors throwing up on me to holding down a naked man high on PCP screaming about how he was the messiah, I’ve seen it all. Twice. And I wouldn’t change a second of it. That 10 years was the best period of my life, and I miss it every day.” (DeVille now works security at both Sneaky Dee’s and Hard Luck Bar.)

Jane and Scooter. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Security staff member Peter ‘Slim’ Betley. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

What happened to it: Chiaromonte co- owned the building until 2007, when it was sold to Toronto developer Daniel Rumack.

“I was ready to pack it in,” he admits. “I’d put in so many years, I was drained. During the first years, I even lived at the Bop. I really threw myself into it because I had to.

“By 2007, all of us partners got together and said ‘If somebody comes up with this figure, we’ll sell.’ Somebody did. We had an agreement with him that we would stay on, and if he found someone else, he would give us four months or if I wanted out, I could get out of the lease by giving four months.”

That time came near the end of 2009, when Rumack announced he had a new tenant. This too was timely.

“The last few years were not very well attended, and the building was starting to fall apart,” describes Disman.

The Big Bop went out with a bang on January 30^th, 2010. Kathedral featured 20 bands over 12 hours while Nocturnal Commissions and Embedded presented the ‘Good to the Last Bop’ rave on the other floors.

Poster by Field Trip Designs, www.JayTripper.com. Courtesy of Jay Tripper.

“The last song ever played at the Reverb was by me at the rave,” says Warren a.k.a. DJ Lazarus. “I played VNV Nation’s ‘Perpetual.’ A fitting song for the end of an era.” (Warren currently DJs at Nocturne and Velvet Underground while his roving Darkrave turns 15 this year.)

After the Bop’s close, the southeast corner of Queen and Bathurst underwent a significant transformation. Underneath all that grit and purple paint, 651 Queen West was a beautiful brick heritage building. Following extensive renovations, it opened as CB2’s first Canadian location in January 2012.

Chiaromonte has not yet been inside.

“No, but I’ve heard that you walk in, and see the Big Bop sign,” he comments. “It definitely looks like they did a nice restoration job. And you can’t stop big business.”

Early in the building’s restoration process. Photo by Ira S. Cohen.

Close to completion. Photo by Ira S. Cohen.

Apparently you can’t stop Chiaromonte either. Though he’d planned to retire after selling the Queen West building (“We made good money.”), Chiaromonte opened a new club almost immediately after closing.

“I realized my plans of retirement were bullshit,” he laughs. “Within 24 hours, I found the venue out in the west end that would become Rockpile, and we signed the lease. We grabbed all of the stuff from the Big Bop, brought it to the new location in January of 2010, and opened a couple months later.”

Final last call for the Bop. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Many familiar faces went with him. Lucy Van Nie coordinated the move, and did the audio and lighting design and install (he went on to work for Guerrilla Remote, and is now works for Westbury and is house tech at The Piston). Jake Disman is house tech of Rockpile West (the short-lived Rockpile East closed in December), and also works as a touring front-of-house tech.

Located at 5555A Dundas West in Etobicoke, Rockpile features tribute bands, indie bands, and even hip-hop shows (Talib Kweli performs there on February 20), with punk and metal at the core. Only this time, all-ages really means all ages.

“You know what’s so cool? Seeing all these old rockers come in with their kids,” says Chiaromonte. “We had the Misfits play both Rockpiles, and it was amazing to see how many of the old punks brought their kids. We were sold out for both shows. And the Misfits loved it.”

Dominic Chiaromonte watches the Misfits load in at Reverb. Photo by Lucy Van Nie.

Thank you to participants Andrea Caldwell, Carlos Mondesir, Damian Abraham, Dominic Chiaromonte, Ewan Exall, Greg Gallant, Jake Disman, Jonathan Ramos, Lloyd Warren, Lucy Van Nie, Mark Micallef, Noel Peters, Scoot DeVille, Trevor ‘DJ Tex’ Mais and Yvonne Matsell.

The post Then & Now: The Big Bop, part 2 appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published April 29, 2014 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

In the mid-1980s, the Queen-and-Bathurst area was a wasteland—until this multi-floor/multi-genre dance-club rocked the corner to life, and shifted the future course of Toronto nightlife in the process.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: The Big Bop, 651 Queen St. W.

Years in operation: 1986-1996

History: The heritage building on the southeast corner of Queen West and Bathurst has long been a prominent marker in Toronto’s collective consciousness. Originally known as The Occidental Building, it was built in 1876 for the Toronto Masons, and was the work of Toronto-born architect E. J. Lennox who also designed Old City Hall, Casa Loma, and more than 70 other buildings in this city.

The south-east corner of Queen and Bathurst, circa 1928.

In 1948, the upper part of 651 Queen St. W. was demolished and the address opened as the Holiday Tavern. The Holiday was a dinner club, complete with stage shows, including jazz and R&B bands. Later, the Tavern would become known as a beer hall and strip club. An attempt to revive it as a live-music venue was made in the ’80s, with bands like The Shuffle Demons holding down residencies.

It was also during this period, specifically in 1984, that the largely white building underwent a neon, new-wave makeover by Toronto artist Bart Schoales, who was commissioned to create both interior and exterior murals.

The Holiday Tavern gets Bopped. Photos by Ira S. Cohen.

The ultimate credit/blame for this paint job has widely been bestowed upon the Ballinger brothers, four farm-boys-turned-club-impresarios who arrived in Toronto after achieving great success in Cambridge, Ontario. There, they had converted an old pizzeria into the highly successful Ballingers Danceteria and Videotheque. But the Ballingers–Stephen, Lon, Douglas and Peter—did not turn their attention to 651 Queen St. W. until 1986.

“We had sold Ballingers in Cambridge in 1984 for $1.5 million, after purchasing it five years earlier for $200,000,” Lon Ballinger divulges by email.

“We bought an old building at 666 King West, on the northeast corner at Bathurst, and had just finished recreating it as a fashion-display building when Douglas told us he noticed the old Holiday Tavern, which had just been redone by some other guys, had closed. This was February of 1986.

“At that time, we needed to make money, so we rented the Holiday for $9,000 a month, and spent the next four months getting it into shape. We opened the Big Bop on June 26 of 1986. I was then 35, Steve was 36, and Douglas was 28. Peter, the fourth brother, was more of a small, quiet partner.”

It was a much different time at the corner of Queen and Bathurst. While it may be difficult to believe today, there was very little nightlife on Queen west of Spadina. Bathurst marked the gateway toward a deeply impoverished Parkdale. It was not a likely location for a large nightclub to gain mass appeal.

“It was, in a sense, the dividing line between civilized world and a kind of insanity,” says Boris Khaimovich, a doorman who had worked security at clubs in New York as well as at The Copa.

“There was also Galaxy Donuts across the street from us. There was the worst Mr. Sub on the corner, an old cigar store near it, and Mr. Pong’s was down the street. It was simplicity at its best and worst.”

“We wanted to do a club that embraced the area,” offers Lon Ballinger. “It was tough, full of winos and drug addicts. Being young and mischievous, we thought to ourselves, ‘Let’s make this area like Disneyland for adults,’ so we sold the Bop as the four-storey funhouse in the part of the city that never sleeps.”

Very quickly, the multi-tiered Big Bop drew capacity crowds, with line-ups around the block and down to Richmond. The Ballingers had their calling card.

Bop promo image courtesy of Joey Santaguida.

Why it was important: At the time of its opening, the Big Bop was one of very few clubs in Toronto that could hold 1,000 or more people.

“As far as mass appeal, mainstream clubs went, there were only five or six at the time,” Khaimovich recalls. “The competition was The Copa, RPM, The Diamond, and then there was the upscale Berlin at Yonge and Eglinton.”

The Bop distinguished itself through a number of key factors, including multiple floors, wonky layout and décor, and a range of music not then heard under one roof. The Ballingers were pioneers of the large, multi-level dance club in Toronto.

“We came up with the idea of using all the floors from our growing up in the sticks of Ontario farm country, where our Mom and Dad had moved their brood from the city of Toronto so we could grow up knowing nature and how to work hard,” says Lon Ballinger. “Parties during our teen years involved going to big old country farmhouses where we flirted with cute girls and smoked pot while moving from room to room.

“The Big Bop was [planned as] a dance club for everyone who loved pretty kids, great music, and lots of well-priced booze. It was built to offer a complete interactive party that was to take up every room in the building with either dancing or visual effects—from the basement coat check area with strobe lights flashing off and on within the paint-splattered room that freaked everyone out, to the to the black lights and neon waterfalls [painted by Floria Sigismondi] on the third floor.”

Big Bop promo goods, Photo courtesy of Joey Santaguida.

There was nothing subtle about the Big Bop. Pink lights shone brightly on the army-green walls of the first floor, also adorned by painted murals of the Jetsons and various oddities. A long bar lined the room, which boasted a black-and-white checkerboard floor and a DJ booth placed above two small stage areas where crowds could strut their stuff.

“The Big Bop was big, bold, colourful, and audacious,” summarizes Avery Tanner, the man who would be mostly strongly associated with that DJ booth. “It rank of beer and scotch, and the walls were puke-green. The sound was adequate and the lights meagre, but the vibe was palpable.

“When you walked into the building, even during the day, it was like entering the whale. She seemed to have a life of her own. The dark winding staircases and the tangle of little tiny lounges on the third floor made it like the maze of Minos. It would be so packed that it could take you a half hour to move from floor to floor.”

Adds former Bop security man Krafty Brown, “You could wander from the brightly lit main floor into the flat black and day-glo stairwell, up a set of stairs and come out in this large black room with a wall of TVs to your left, behind the bar. If you went up the other stairs, you would have the option of a third floor, with more day-glo, and a tiny room with a fountain that was attached to a larger room with no music, but couches to chill in.”

Brown, a musician, DJ, sound tech and security man, has worked in clubs since the early 1970s, when he started as a busboy at the Colonial Tavern. He later played in the house band at The Cheetah club (formerly Mrs. Knights), and “worked as everything, but a waitress—the job I really wanted” at Yonge Street hard rock club The Gasworks. Brown still worked there when he landed the security job at Big Bop in summer of 1986.

“When Doug Ballinger hired me, he took me to every little space on every floor, even to the unfinished part of the basement, which he left open to the public with no or very little light,” recalls Brown. “It was a doorman’s nightmare, but he told me if I found people in there to ‘just make sure they are having a good time.’”

“The mentality that the Ballingers had toward their patrons was simplicity at its best,” confirms Khaimovich. “‘Get ’em in, get ’em drunk, get ’em to dance.’ It felt very much like a frat-house party. The décor resembled that as well, including a bunch of broken chairs and couches, with springs sticking out of them. There was a kitchen that served pizza. It was a party. It was boys and girls and booze and music.

“Once I said to Doug, ‘You know, we’ve got these two doors at the front. We should open them both up for traffic flow,’ and he said, ‘No Boris, no. You want to have the kids rubbing up against each other as they’re squeezing into the door.’ That’s the simplicity. If a customer complained, it was met with ‘Have a beer.’”

Crowd at the Big Bop. Photo courtesy of Joe Santaguida.

The Ballinger brothers couldn’t have cared less about courting the cool kids. Their priority was to create fun without pretense.

“We came from no money, had no education, and no one ever lent too much help or good advice,” says Lon Ballinger. “We always felt confident in our imaginations, our work ethics, our sense of playfulness, and our fun-loving attitudes. We knew instinctively that people just wanted fun and fantasy, and we gave them what they wanted.

“We boarded up the windows, and the doors offered no signage. That approach caused so much good controversy, just like the way we were the first club to ever open only 20 hours a week. We knew from the experience we had picked up at Ballingers that the best way to make money and keep costs low was to concentrate the hours, so we opened from 8 p.m. to 1 a.m. [last call at the time], four nights a week.

“We recognized that Wednesdays could have a low cost and college-crowd vibe, so we called this night Depression Wednesday, and charged $2.50 admission and $2.50 for drinks. It was a huge hit. Thursdays were Ladies Night, with free admission and free drinks till midnight for the girls. Friday and Saturday were just off the hook. All the local kids gravitated to our madhouse of fun.

“Within six months, we were making $60,000 per week and it was costing us $15,000. We had line-ups to get in that were two city blocks long. Needless to say, we thought we were pretty special.”

Those lineups had a great deal to do the Bop’s wildly varied mix of music, divided by floors. Without a doubt, the club’s star was resident Deejay Avery Tanner, who rocked the first floor Wednesdays through Saturdays.

Tanner had DJed his way through university, promoted events, and worked at both incarnations of Domino Klub. He’d even installed sound and built the DJ booth at Domino’s Yonge and Dundas location. After he quit there, Tanner thought he was through with DJing.

“Then I heard that the new owners of the Holiday Tavern were looking for a ’50s and ’60s rock ’n’ roll DJ,” Tanner tells me. “I had been a record collector before a DJ, had all of the music and always loved the classics. It felt like a natural fit. I put together a mixed tape and went in to introduce myself.”

He was hired in April of 1986 to help install the Big Bop’s sound and lighting, and then set its scene musically for most of the club’s years.

“It was the Ballingers’ idea to do a multi-level club with rock ’n’ roll on one floor and dance music on another,” says Tanner. “Their plan was to play ’50s and ’60s rock on the first floor. I told them I was concerned that it would be a sort of ‘house of oldies’ cliché, and thought it should appeal to youth and have an edge. That’s why we played Memphis soul like Booker T, psychedelic rock like The Zombies, blues like Muddy Waters, odd stuff like Mungo Jerry, and groovy stuff like David Essex. Of course, there was also plenty of Doors and Stones to keep it rocking.

“It soon became clear that we needed to play the ’70s—Aerosmith, Zeppelin, Blondie, and funk and disco, too. It was a musical history tour every night. Over time, even early ’80s stuff like Billy Idol and The Cult became nostalgic enough to enter our vocabulary, but when the grunge thing hit, it was time to pull out the stops. We had come of age, and we played everything. That’s just the way it was.”

The Bop’s second floor featured dance music—disco, new wave and early house. It was daring to feature such a range under one roof on a nightly basis.

“It was unheard of,” asserts Tanner. “Clubs either played one music or another, and there was no mixing of styles or crowds until we opened. In fact, no one played rock at all. After the Big Bop’s success, clubs all over downtown started playing rock ’n’ roll.”

“We knew we had a superstar on our hands with Deejay Avery Tanner,” says Lon Ballinger. “He grabbed his collection of ’50s and ’60s music, cut out a big DJ booth, and became the heart and soul of the Big Bop.

“Avery told me once, ‘You guys may have built the Big Bop, but I am the Big Bop.’ He was right. The girls came from near and far to see this mad little man DJing, drinking, and playing air guitars. He was bigger than any rock star could dream of.”

An entertainer as much as he was a DJ, Tanner was known to leap about to songs while singing along and playing toy instruments. The crowd danced directly below.

“My booth was a cut out in the wall, like a puppet theatre, and we put on a good show if I do say so myself,” says Tanner. “I would climb out onto the window ledge, and the girls would stroke my hair like I was Adonis. It was as close to being a rock star as you can get without actually being a rock star.”

Tanner had a comrade and “right-hand-man” in this revelry: lighting operator Joe Santaguida.

Joe Santaguida (left) and Avery Tanner in the DJ booth. Photo courtesy of Tanner.

Santaguida, who’d grown up at Queen and Bathurst and keenly watched the transition of the Holiday Tavern to the Big Bop, became a regular at the club soon after it opened. In 1988, Tanner invited him to do lights. They became a duo act.

“Avery and I had a routine for every song, to entertain the people,” says Santaguida. “We were not just DJs; we were showmen, and the crowd knew us as a team. People came to the booth to dance and party with us; our job was to take requests, hang out, dance, and drink! It was absolutely amazing to look out and watch the crowds rocking along with us.”

Those crowds were heavily skewed to college and university students, but with a healthy mix of neighbourhood locals, Queen Street artists and musicians, and others who packed the place.

“All the hockey players used to come right after their games, and hold court in the back,” says Lon Ballinger. “Wendel Clark, Lanny McDonald, Steve Thomas, and many others got ogled and probably much more.

“There was a lot of sex and romance in the air, and this too is what made the Big Bop so special. You might very well meet the girl or boy of your dreams; my cousin met his wife there, as did my brother Douglas. We had so many beautiful girls and handsome young men there, wanting to meet each other, and all of this music and attractiveness. It changed the rundown old neighbourhood for the better. We were very proud of the Big Bop, and how when you entered through the only door that ever opened to the public, we were all equal, one people under the spell of the music and love.”

Nadya Swyrydenko and Gregory Hewitt behind his first-floor bar. Photo courtesy of Hewitt.

Who else played/worked there: The Big Bop’s success soon paved the way for other Ballinger clubs in the city, including Boom Boom Room, Rockit, Go-Go, and The World. There was a heavy overlap of staff between Ballinger venues, most obviously so with DJs.

James Vandervoort a.k.a. James St. Bass first made his name as resident DJ of Boys Nite Out at the Boom. He recalls filling in for DJ Debbie Rottman, then the Bop’s main second-floor resident, many times during 1989.

“Debbie was a classic-alternative DJ, but she knew her dance-music history,” says Vandervoort. “She was a very experienced DJ who coached me to beat-mix New Order, Depeche Mode, and Pet Shop Boys’ records. I learned so much from her; she was my first DJ mentor, and first to support my ambitions and make me try harder to spin better. ”

Vandervoort also associates the likes of The Cure, Violent Femmes, Tones on Tail, and Erasure with Big Bop’s second floor, and highlights a song both he and Rottman played: New Order’s “Fine Time” (Silk mix). (Vandervoort went on to become a resident DJ at clubs including Go-Go and Limelight, and hosted CIUT’s pioneering HardDrive dance music show. Rottman is deceased.)

Other DJs heard over the years on the Bop’s second floor include adventurous early resident Cam Gavin, and dance-music dons including Jason “Deko”Steele, Kevin Williams, and Mark Micallef, who also organized a DJ record pool. On the first floor, Mr. Pete was a regular fill-in for Tanner, lighting man Joe Santaguida later became a resident DJ, and Trevois Mais a.k.a. DJ Tex rounded out the roster.

Originally, the third-floor lounge did not have music, but after a bar was built and busboy Gregory Hewitt was promoted to tend it, he provided the tunes.

“I bought a portable CD player, brought in an old stereo, and started playing my own music,” recalls Hewitt. “I played a lot of Kraftwerk and a ton of disco.  It was a slow start up there, but I eventually had a bunch of amazing regulars.”

Hired by the Big Bop’s first general manager, Michael Ibrahim (now owner of Club Abstract in Kitchener), Hewitt also went on to bartend on the Bop’s busy main floor, and was among an early wave of Bop staffers comprising artists, musicians, and other performers.

“I don’t know what it was with the staff of that time, but we were a very, very tight family,” he describes. “It was a large collection of downtown music and arts people, most involved in numerous projects outside the Bop.”

Big Bop staff Shawn (right), Michael Ibrahim, Kerry McInerney. Photo courtesy of Gregory Hewitt.

Hewitt points to examples including Floria Sigismondi, who worked one of the Bop’s beer bars before becoming a renowned video- and filmmaker. Teresa Roncon was an early waitress, and left the Bop to appear as a host on CityTV and then MuchMusic. Actress, model, and visual artist Bridget Griggs bartended along with the likes of Hobie Post, Kerry McInerney, Linda Parent, John Tench, Cheryl Butson, Cristy-Jane Byrom, Jenn Chycoski, Nadya Swyrydenko, and Julian Finkel.

“Julian had the best long hair in the club, maybe even in the city, but that wasn’t his draw,” says Hewitt of the one-time bartender who now owns Kensington Market boutique Model Citizen. “He was one of those people that women and men were just drawn to. His personality and presence was magnetic. Miles Roberts was another bartender and fantastic human being, not to mention a brilliant singer, dancer, artist and bloody hilarious. [Roberts now lives in Vancouver.]

“Lola a.k.a. Carmel Debreuil was also a bartender. Even though she wasn’t there for long, she left an impression. She was known to stand up and straddle the beer bin to dance to her fave songs. She also wore a lot of bustiers and bras when she worked, and sometimes we would use make-up and draw fake areolas to draw more guys to her tub for beer sales. That still makes me laugh.”

As for Hewitt himself, he left the Bop after being fired suddenly.

“The Ballingers believed I was stealing,” he reveals. “I was kind of devastated as I’d given my everything to that job, and why would I steal—I was making heaps of tips. I would often forget to pick up my paycheque for weeks at a time.”

Hewitt immediately landed a bartending job at rival club RPM, and turned down the Bop when he was offered his job back just days later. He also worked at The Phoenix before moving on to work in television. Hewitt is now a social-media consultant with TheGregoryProject and blogger at GET Out! Canada.

Other Big Bop staff of note includes barback Bruce McCallum, later a familiar face at both Sneaky Dee’s and The Horseshoe; musician and animator Crawford “Crocky” Teasdale, then a lighting man; and doorman Anthony Reffosco, who later worked as general manager at Go-Go before opening his own Power nightclub.

Big Bop T-shirt. Photo courtesy of Joey Santaguida.

Ian Michael Shaw was a well-experienced bar man by the time he was recruited from a managerial role at Yonge Street’s Hard Rock Café to act as the Bop’s general manager. He came on board late in the club’s history, in 1993, when the Ballingers had already moved to New York to run Webster Hall (more on this shortly).

“[I was hired] when the Ballingers had divested themselves of everything in Toronto except the Boom and the Bop,” says Shaw. “They sent a promoter named Martin X up from New York to breathe some new life into the joint, and he recruited me.”

Though the Ballingers were no longer onsite, one major factor did not change.

“I used to tell my staff that we sold sex, and everything else was just dressing,” states Shaw. “Sex. That’s what people came for, to let the hair down, party and maybe meet Mr./Ms. Right or Right Now.

“We got people all hot and bothered and sent them home together. Often, they couldn’t wait to get home, and got nasty with the staff on the spot. There was sex behind the bar, in the DJ booth—the DJ booth was like a fucking porn set, ridiculous—in the office, the coat check, the VIP, even on the freakin’ fire escape. It was like a working in Led Zeppelin’s hotel room.”

Krafty Brown, who worked at three additional Ballinger clubs before DJing at Limelight, tells a simple story that corroborates the above.

“My son was conceived at a Big Bop Christmas party. He is a 24-year-old working DJ/tech in Toronto.” (Brown himself now resides in Ottawa where he DJs, produces, and plays music.)

Not only did the Ballingers change the corner of Queen and Bathurst with their Big Bop, they changed people’s lives.

“I think we put a lot of fun and clean play into that area,” offers Lon Ballinger. “As the years went by, it gentrified.”

Outside the Bop. Photo courtesy of Joe Santaguida.

What happened to it: The Big Bop began to suffer after the brothers Ballinger moved to New York in 1992, where they operated Webster Hall.

“When I found Webster Hall, I told my brothers that the Big Bop was heading to NYC,” says Lon Ballinger. “We took a lot of our Canadian experiences with us, and all the little tricks we had used to lure people into our Toronto clubs worked so easily in NYC. Avery joined us when we opened, and he helped us rock NYC to the rafters as well.”

From October 1992 to July 1993, Tanner flew between cities to spin. Joe Santaguida DJed at the Bop when Tanner was not there, and became the full-time first-floor resident after Tanner re-located.

Santaguida’s blend of classic rock, soul and R&B kept the crowds coming for quite some time, but by 1993 only weekends were regularly packed. Pool tables were added to the club, Wednesdays were closed, and Thursdays were re-formatted.

“We opened a new night called Rock 175, where all floors went rock,” says Shaw, before adding that “Avery was the heart and soul of the Bop. Joey and Tex did a good job of following his act, but the Bop never had the heat it did when Avery was there.” (Shaw later bartended at Bemelmen’s, and now works in remote expedition travel.)

The Bop’s slowdown had at least as much to do with a major shift in Toronto’s club scene, as the multi-floor format the Ballingers had pioneered was put in play at many clubs located in the then-burgeoning Entertainment District.

People flocked to newer venues like Joker, Whiskey Saigon, and Limelight, which was managed by Boris Khaimovich. (He later was a partner in System Soundbar, and now works the door at Rock ‘n’ Horse Saloon in addition to operating his Maple Crescent Farm.)

Joe Santaguida during his DJ days at the Bop. Photo courtesy of him.

In 1994, the Big Bop began its decline in earnest.

“The Ballingers had moved on, and were neglecting the Bop,” says Santaguida, who quit in late 1993, but continues to speak fondly of the club. “Their focus and resources were 100 per cent on Webster Hall, and they just let the Bop run its course. I remember going back in 1994 to check out the club a couple of times, and it had changed dramatically. All of it—the music, people, and pace had slowed down.” (Santaguida is now a stay-at-home dad, raising two kids with his wife, who he met at the Bop more than 20 years ago.)

The Big Bop went into receivership in 1994, and sputtered its way through the next year-and-a-half to two years. Though he would not confirm the exact closing date, Lon Ballinger did offer some details.

“My brothers and I suffered a complete financial meltdown. We lost everything we owned in the real-estate collapse that took place in 1989 in Canada. We were builders as well as fine club operators. We lost 10 buildings; one of them was the Big Bop. This was a very painful time for us.

“I thank the people of Toronto for the great times we had, and for always supporting our clubs. I have so many good memories of Toronto.”

The Ballinger brothers, along with their 10 sons, now run multiple venues in New York, including multi-room lounge and live-music venue Slake and The City Beer Hall in Albany.

After more than 40 years of entertaining, Lon Ballinger says, “We want to put on our tombstones, ‘They made ‘em dance.’”

“The Ballingers are remarkable people, and a fascinating story,” says Tanner, a resident DJ at Webster Hall until his return to Toronto in 2012.

I ask him the secret of his success in working with the notoriously hot-blooded brothers for 25 years.

“Patience, and a cast iron liver.”

The history of the Big Bop does not end there, however. In part two of this story, we’ll examine its rebirth in the late-’90s as a live music venue.

Thank you to participants Avery Tanner, Boris Khaimovich, Gregory Hewitt, Ian Michael Shaw, James Vandervoort, Joe Santaguida, Krafty Brown, and Lon Ballinger, as well as to Ira S. Cohen and Sue Waller.

The post Then & Now: The Big Bop, part 1 appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.