Article originally published September 24, 2012 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

360 Adelaide St. W. has had many incarnations over its 90-year-plus existence, but it is best remembered as the home of Toronto’s burgeoning drum ‘n’ bass scene in the early 2000s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Turbo Niteclub, 360 Adelaide W.

Years in operation: 2000-2003

History: Built around 1920, the six-storey red brick office building at 360 Adelaide St. W. has been home to multiple dance clubs, many of them owned and operated by Vincent Donohoe. He’d opened Top 40 venue Denile at the address in 1997, a time when the Entertainment District was synonymous with nightclubs, but Donohoe was no newbie. He’d already helped finance Charles Khabouth’s first two clubs in the 1980s—Club Z at 11A St. Joseph and Stilife on Richmond—and run other businesses.

“Although Charles Khabouth never seems to want to let people know, I was a full partner in Club Z and the money behind Stilife,” writes Donohoe in an email. “He was broke when I met him, and at one time I owned two thirds of Club Z. I also helped put together Orchid Nightclub [on Richmond Street], and was general manager for their first three years, until I built Denile.”

Donohoe’s one-floor Denile later morphed into Jet Nightclub, a hybrid venue that held successful commercial nights, and was regularly rented out by rave production companies like Ritual, Empire, and Lifeforce Industries for much more underground, after-hours events.

By 1999, Lifeforce—Toronto’s largest rave production company and the umbrella organization behind the Dose, Syrous, and Renegades brands—was under intense scrutiny as the City, police, and media cracked down on late-night parties. Toronto’s once enormous rave scene was dwindling, the crowds maturing, and events had moved increasingly to licensed nightclubs like Industry.

The young entrepreneurs behind Lifeforce—Rob Lisi, brothers Steve and Wayne Mealing (a.k.a. DJs Stretch & Hooker), Tyler Cho, and Aaron Micks—recognized it was time to flip the script.

Aaron Micks from Lifeforce. Photo by Jay Futronic.

“The motivation for opening our own club was mostly driven by the political pressure from the city, and increased costs at the raves,” explains Lisi. “At that time, there was a lot of negative attention on the rave scene, and finding a new home to place all the DJs we were booking was the number-one priority. Lifeforce was the biggest target for city officials and it just wasn’t feasible at that time to run the larger parties. Venue-capacity numbers were being reduced, paid-duty officer requirements were going up, and other costs were going through the roof. Moving into the clubs was the logical next step.”

“We were not actively looking to lease a property or build a club from the ground up because we were so busy,” adds Wayne Mealing a.k.a. DJ Hooker. “However, Lifeforce did an event at Jet in summer of 1999 that was the busiest night they had ever had. When Rob and I went to settle the event the next week, the owners approached us with the idea of partnering up, and us eventually buying them out to take over the lease.”

“For us, it was the right place at the right time, especially at a time when Industry, still my favourite club, was closing,” says Lisi.

Donohoe gives due credit: “Lifeforce showed a new way of entertaining that I had missed with Jet and Denile; they showed me how the late-night scene was so alive.”

A deal was struck that split the business three ways between Donohoe, his silent partner, and the men of Lifeforce, with the two original owners maintaining responsibility for day-to-day operations and the late-night lads taking on programming, promotion, and the sound and lighting design.

In very little time, Jet was renovated into a much larger, darker concrete whole. The ground floor became a huge rectangular room with multiple bars, a raised VIP area, decent décor, and a massive DJ booth at the back. The sizable basement had less frills and little lighting. Legal capacity doubled from 900 to 1,800 people, making it by far one of the largest clubs in the area. Most significantly, the Lifeforce crew had a state-of-the-art Turbosound system installed.

Turbo Niteclub opened in April of 2000.

Why it was important: “I think what made the space work as Turbo was the excellent promoting and booking talents of the Lifeforce crew on Fridays,” says Alex Dordevic, publisher of the defunct but influential TRIBE magazine and its still very active message boards.

“These guys cut their teeth throwing some of the earliest rave events in the city, and consistently threw the largest raves in Toronto, culminating with that massive Freakin’ event at Polson Street that set the record for the largest rave ever thrown here,” Dordevic says. “They had a great following, and a lot of friends and music connections because of the rave promoting, as well as a great love of the music. Turbo was their first experiment into transitioning from throwing one-off rave events to doing a large regular nightclub.”

“The timing of Turbo was perfect,” says Steve Mealing, a.k.a. DJ Stretch. “Our goal was to provide a top-quality sound system and an underground feel on a weekly basis. The talent pool and availability was outgrowing how many events we could do with the standard or quality we were producing. Turbo was a place to cultivate local talent, and showcase the arts where it fit in. The quality of talent in Toronto at the time made it that much easier to do.”

Steve Mealing, a.k.a. Stretch. Photo by Jay Futronic.

But first there was the matter of moving a great number of locals—and their followers—over from the nearby System Soundbar. System had opened a year earlier, and was already attracting huge post-raver crowds, largely thanks to the Lifeforce crew’s popular Friday night and FungleJunk Tuesdays there. As documented in a Then & Now story about System, Lifeforce brought both nights and System’s Saturday night crew of promoter Craig Pettigrew and DJs John E and Myka over to Turbo.

“Although we were really happy at System Soundbar, the thought of having input into all aspects of a club’s identity, music policy, sound, feel, layout, and staff was too much for us not to do it,” explains Wayne Mealing.

The Turbo Fridays concept was to feature the Dose take on house, techno, and underground party music upstairs—with resident DJs Stretch & Hooker and Tim Patrick—and the drum ‘n’ bass and jungle associated with Syrous/Renegades and the Vinyl Syndicate DJ crew downstairs. Fridays launched on April 15, 2000, with guests Donald Glaude and DJ Zinc.

Donald Glaude turns out Turbo. Photo by Jay Futronic.

The Turbo Fridays crowd gives it up for Donald Glaude. Photo by Jay Futronic.

DJ Sneak guested the next night at the launch of Drul Saturdays, playing alongside residents Myka and John E. Competing for the same crowds as System and The Guvernment, Drul never fully gained traction. Promoters Jennstar and Gairy Brown—long associated with Industry Niteclub—were hired in September of 2000 to launch Giant Saturdays, aimed at a more mature house crowd. Residents Myka and Carlos Fuerte played alongside international guests including John Acquaviva, DJ Dove, and Satoshi Tomiie.

Lifeforce Fridays proved to be immediately popular, however.

“The main room was rammed with a lively and very engaged crowd every week, so the vibe was incredible,” says Tim Patrick, who had also played at System, Industry, and large raves, and had toured regularly across North America by the time he played Turbo. “Every Friday was epic.”

Tim Patrick and Myka. Photo by Jay Futronic.

“Fridays attracted an interesting mix of house and techno heads with a splash of artsy professionals,” recalls Steve Mealing. “There was no attitude, no music snobs—just people open to new sounds and the staple classics. Without a doubt, the party people who supported Turbo from day one directly reflected how educated the Toronto scene really was at that time. Everyone came for the people and the music, not to peacock around.”

Upstairs on Fridays, touring artists like Misstress Barbra, Barry Weaver, Terry Mullan, Dave Clarke, and Bad Boy Bill could be found in the booth. Britain’s Carl Cox notoriously melted the crowd on Turbo’s first anniversary.

Steve Mealing recalls some other favourite Friday nights: “Darren Emerson from Underworld destroyed the place one night; it was rammed to the entrance, and the crowd was beyond up for it. There was also the night that DJ Dan’s records were lost by the airline. The club was thick with energy so he offered to play our records, and played back-to-back with us for six hours. Amazing.”

“I loved playing at Turbo,” says brother Wayne. “I feel like Stretch & Hooker grew up as DJs at System, and crafted the art at Turbo.”

Tim Patrick—who later moved to Croatia, now resides in Prague, and tours Europe constantly—feels the same.

“It was an incredible opportunity for me to really get to work on such a powerful set-up that was created with the DJ in mind. I was able to open for some very big guests and, on some nights, play nice, long extended sets. I was granted the ability to develop my sound at Turbo, on my terms, and I am incredibly thankful for that.”

Mike. Photo by Jay Futronic,

More than anything though, Turbo is remembered as a key hub for Toronto’s drum ‘n’ bass scene—at that time, one of the largest in the world.

“Although the d’n’b room was smaller, with lesser sound and had its quirks, some of the best parties at Turbo were downstairs,” offers Wayne Mealing.

“Turbo was the first time we had major club to call home for d’n’b,” says Brad Leonard a.k.a. DJ Lush, a former resident at Turbo’s Syrous Sessions Fridays, FungleJunk Tuesdays, and also heard at all the big parties of the time.

“In the hardcore days, we had 23 Hop; in the jungle days, we had the Tunnel, and then after that ended it was five years till we, as a scene, landed in Turbo. You have to remember the drum ‘n’ bass scene had always just been on its own. We never got the press, and we were always relegated to ‘second rooms.’

“Turbo was a chance to independently do our own thing and the d’n’b scene at that time was just thriving—there were so many people into the music. The crowd was so knowledgeable; they really responded to new tunes and good mixing. Many tunes that went on to be these genre-defining classic anthems, we played or heard there first.”

“The basement at Turbo on Fridays was a testing ground for all the new tunes and dubs,” agrees Pat Brodeur a.k.a. Mystical Influence, one of the most ubiquitous Toronto drum ‘n’ bass DJ/producers of all time. “If it worked in that room on Friday, you could pretty much guarantee that you would hear it everywhere for the next month.”

Video by Sensory Transduction. Features Mystical Influence and Sniper at FungleJunk, May 2000 and more.

Brodeur—who also headed up the d’n’b section at influential record shop Eastern Bloc and ran both Vinyl Syndicate Recordings and Fully Loaded Distribution, among other projects, with his brother Chris, a.k.a. DJ Sniper—was heavily involved in the bookings for both the Syrous Sessions and the all-ages FungleJunk Tuesdays.

Mystical, Sniper, and Marcus Visionary were key residents at both nights, rotating with Lush, Unknown Souljah, Everfresh, Prime, Slip & Slide, Dominik, and Illfingas, and MCs including L Natural, Caddy Cad, and JD. But the talent didn’t stop there.

“We tried to get everyone in to play, including guys who had never played anywhere,” says Brodeur. He booked early appearances by locals including Ruckus, Capital J, Spinz, Gremlinz, and Mr. Brown. “If you brought your demo tape to E-Bloc and I thought it was decent, you got a slot.”

“Basically anybody who hung around Eastern Bloc long enough would get a chance to play,” confirms Leonard. “If Turbo was the party hub of the d’n’b scene, Eastern Bloc was where you rubbed shoulders with the DJs and got to know who the serious guys were. It was the essential meeting place at that time.”

DJ Zinc with T.O. junglists. Photo by alexd at TRIBE http://www.tribemagazine.com.

Resident junglists Tragedy, Marcus Visionary, JD, Mystical Influence, Prime, and Lush. Photo courtesy of Lush.

Both Syrous Sessions and FungleJunk featured a steady stream of top international guests as well, including DJ Hype, Zinc, DJ Rap, Aphrodite, Randall, Dieselboy, MC Dynamite, and Andy C.

“Andy C had some unbelievable sets in there over its time,” enthuses Leonard. “He owned that place, and would leave people in awe. All the major players came through there at one point or another.”

Andy C’s set recorded live at Turbo in September of 2001 can be downloaded at the Toronto Rave Mixtape Archive website (in two parts), where live Turbo sets from the likes of Bad Company, Marcus Intalex, and Mickey Finn can also be found.

“We were spoiled at that time,” agrees Marcus Sills a.k.a. DJ/producer Marcus Visionary, a Turbo resident, rave mainstay, and prominent Toronto talent who produces and tours the globe to this day. “The d’n’b nights had crowds who were very serious about the music. It was a really amazing time to be playing in the city.

“Turbo also gave us a place to develop. Many DJs learned to become better in that basement. I most definitely learned a lot about controlling a rig, and a crowd, from playing there. There was no hiding your skills when playing on that rig.”

Turbo’s notoriously loud basement. Photo by alexd at TRIBE (http://www.tribemagazine.com).

The sound in Turbo’s basement was notoriously loud, and could be painful if DJs didn’t know how to balance the system’s high and low ends. Still, the drum ‘n’ bass crowds were often Turbo’s bread and butter as System Soundbar began to compete again for house and tech fans.

In August of 2001, Lifeforce Fridays came to an end, and the men of Lifeforce Industries pulled out as partners. The Renegades/Syrous Sessions wrapped three months later.

“Lifeforce had the largest raves, and some of the biggest talent; however, that model didn’t translate to a club setting easily,” says Brodeur, now based in Denver where he’s long held multiple DJ residencies.

“The big DJ wages didn’t get smaller in a smaller venue, so you were paying the same [to attract] less people. Add in the guest list—everybody was friends—ladies free, all the free drinks, and so on, and all of a sudden it’s a lot harder to make money.”

Rob Lisi, now based in Switzerland, further elaborates: “Why did we leave? I think we all have different reasons, but the easy answer is that we were losing money. At that time, Toronto wasn’t ready for three or four after-hours clubs, and we didn’t have the deepest pockets. There was also some pressure at that time from our partners to change the format on Saturdays back to R&B and mainstream, and we just didn’t want any part of it. We had to walk away from our investment, but we also walked away from all the headaches that ensued.”

The Lifeforce crew went on to different projects. Lisi helmed Benson & Hedges’ Goldclub sponsorship series, taking artists like Danny Tenaglia, Deep Dish, Tiesto, Paul Oakenfold, and Richie Hawtin to clubs across Canada. The brothers Mealing—later joined by Cho and Micks—began to develop a large-scale tour project, dubbed Mekka, that never came to fruition. That September, Stretch & Hooker also launched Communicate Fridays with co-residents Tim Patrick and Myka at Element Bar.

Vincent Donohoe continued to operate Turbo, and brought in promoters including Charles Lewis and Jesse Brown.

Czech spins at Lifeforce Fridays’ closing night. Photo by Jay Futronic.

Who else played there: The Turbo story, of course, extends beyond the weekend nights and FungleJunk Tuesdays. If you were going out to parties at the time, you’d also find street teams flyering the city for events at Turbo featuring prominent touring DJs including Jeff Mills, Roger S, and Richie Hawtin, who performed at Blu’s fifth anniversary in November 2001.

“That was one of the most memorable one-off events for me,” says Wayne Mealing. “I remember talking to the doormen at System Soundbar that night and they could clearly hear Richie’s set from Turbo at their front door. That was the clearest and loudest the sound system ever was; Richie tuned it himself, and clearly knew how to optimize the system for his sound.”

Laurent Garnier. Photo by alexd at TRIBE (http://www.tribemagazine.com).

A year earlier, Alex Dordevic marked the seventh anniversary of TRIBE magazine with a party at Turbo that featured a live performance by Laurent Garnier and band. People lined up for blocks—all the way west to Spadina—and later wrote rave reviews.

Local talents like Josh Obront, a.k.a. DJ/producer Jelo, worked overtime to land guest gigs at Turbo. Obront, who also worked at the Eastern Bloc record shop, was notorious for his popular series of mixtapes, and he put special effort into creating a high-BPM blend for the Turbo set. (Download Side A here and Side B here).

“I worked my ass off on that thing,” recalls Obront. “The tape was successful as hell, but still I wasn’t offered more shows than the dozen or so I did play.”

Obront was especially a fan of Turbo’s large, concrete DJ booth—“the concrete allowed me to dance my ass off while playing vinyl and not induce one skip”—and its other extremes. “At Turbo, there was never enough seating or places to get away from the music for a moment. You were either in or you were out—like, ‘Take this music and swallow it, stand up, dance, drink.’ That’s it.”

Jelo played at the club while the Lifeforce crew was involved and after they’d left. The junglists also maintained ties to the club, with Friday nights featuring drum ‘n’ bass upstairs and breaks downstairs for a stretch. Lots of d’n’b promoters continued to hold special events at Turbo, including Marcus Visionary, who hosted a number of Junglist Movement parties there.

“One of my standout memories was having a sold-out Junglist Movement event with Shy FX DJing upstairs,” Marcus recounts. “This was the first time I met him, and we became good friends. Eventually, I was signed to his Digital Soundboy record label.”

Turbo bar staff. Photo by Jay Futronic.

As for Turbo’s Saturday nights post-Lifeforce, Jennstar’s Giant ended and the night was generally rented out to promoters of mainstream events. A shooting at the club in October of 2002 did not help the club’s increasingly shaky reputation, but did result in the addition of metal detectors and a lawsuit against the police by a frustrated Donohoe.

“As we found out later, this was part of an undercover operation by the Toronto Police looking into individuals who had robbed a gun store a month earlier, and had killed the owner,” Donohoe explains. “They knew that this individual was coming to Turbo that night, but did not try to stop him as they were looking for more clues on the previous crime. He was wire-tapped, and I even have the transcript to this day. I sued, but got nowhere and dropped the case in 2007 after I had retired.” (Further details are documented in a Toronto Star story archived here.)

Turbo regulars gather at the final edition of Lifeforce Fridays. Photo by Jay Futronic.

What happened to it: “When Lifeforce moved on, it seems that the electronic era had taken a turn to smaller venues,” says Donohoe. “I tried to still do the big events, but [the audience] was not there. Also, I did not have the marketing skills of Lifeforce around me. I give those boys a lot of credit for our success.”

Donohoe certainly did give it a go, though. In late 2002, he rebranded Turbo’s lower level as Klinik, and booked in a range of underground hip-hop, breaks, drum ‘n’ bass, house, and techno events. Turbo upstairs also became a rental club.

Early in 2003, Donohoe renovated and re-opened 360 Adelaide St. W. as another underground dance=music venue: Sound Emporium upstairs, with Klinik below. Both floors were special event–driven. Patrons entered by walking down an alleyway and into a back door that led to the lower level.

The address took on yet another identity late in 2005, when Donohoe partnered with the people formerly involved in Spadina street after-hours club Boa Redux. A small number of events were produced on Adelaide under the Boa banner.

“I think a lot of the problem was that it had too many reincarnations,” summarizes Alex Dordevic. “You can only rebrand an address so many times, I reckon. Even the best promoters and DJs still have to battle against the previous karma to make it work.”

Donohoe closed Sound Emporium/Boa Redux early in 2006, and retired from the club business.

360 Adelaide St. W. now blends into its environment. The building sits surrounded by office buildings, condos and condo towers in the making.

Thank you to Alex Dordevic, Brad Leonard, Josh Obront, Marcus Sills, Pat Brodeur, Rob Lisi, Steve Mealing, Tim Patrick, Vincent Donohoe, and Wayne Mealing for participating, as well as to Jay Futronic, Jennstar, Ryan Smith, and TorontoRaveMixtapeArchive.com.

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

Article originally published by The Grid online (The GridTO.com) on May 24, 2012.

In the early ‘90s, alternative rock was exploding overground, with the rave scene coming up right behind it. This beloved Adelaide Street club bridged these two movements together in a legitimate, licensed space.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Catch 22 Niteclub, 379 Adelaide W.

Years in operation: 1989-1997

History: While a five-year-lifespan tends to be a decent run for nightclubs in this city, some strike a nerve and manage to go it longer, thanks to an ever-evolving community of supporters. Catch 22 was such a venue.

Located on Adelaide near the corner of Spadina, Catch was slightly off the beaten path as it lay on the edges of the then-developing club district and was a few minutes’ walk south from Queen West. It was opened in November of 1989 by a group of friends—with Pat Violo, Lex van Erem, and Gio Cristiano at the core—in a former storage space on the building’s lowest level.

Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

“Lex van Erem had the space and wanted to build a restaurant, but I convinced him it wasn’t a good idea because of its location,” recalls Violo, who had been a manager at RPM nightclub. “I told him it best suited a nightclub. He liked the idea and asked me to be his partner.

“The original idea was to open a club that played only alternative music, and looked very underground. We wanted the music to be the focal point, and it was inspired by CFNY’s format.”

“We wanted to do something that Toronto was missing at that time,” adds Cristiano, a.k.a. DJ Gio. “Klub Domino was gone, Nuts & Bolts was gone, The Silver Crown was gone, so there wasn’t any more really cool alternative places. Thus, Catch 22 was born. We had our own style, and went from punk to techno, from rock to ska.”

Artist and star Catch bartender Suzette Cooper. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

Inspired by the open approach of revered alt club Nuts & Bolts, which had closed just the year before, Catch 22 had a similarly industrial feel. Customers entered through a steel door—having first passed by a painted mural of the Silver Surfer and a street-level caged window sometimes occupied by go-go dancers—and walked down into a mid-sized, L-shaped room. The long, concrete bar boasted a mosaic glass counter created by artist and star Catch bartender Suzette Cooper while the club itself was adorned in sheet-metal designs. This was the epitome of 1990s alternative chic, made more comfortable by seating areas, a pool table, and Catch 22’s notoriously friendly staff.

Front area of Catch 22. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

The club’s raised DJ booth and shiny, slippery stainless steel dancefloor—which, contrary to rumour, did not come from Nuts & Bolts—were focal points and its sound was crisp.

“The sound kicked ass and was specially designed for the place,” emphasizes Cristiano. “The lighting was crazy as well. I remember we had this robotic piece right in the middle of the dancefloor that would go up and down, and move side to side. It looked like the planet Saturn.”

Catch 22 dancefloor. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

 Why it was important: A decidedly underground dance club, Catch 22 was both influential and welcoming. A progressive approach to music programming lay at its core and, as a result, the crowds who came out were open-minded.

“Catch was full of people who were into alternative music—not goths, not rockers, but people who lay somewhere in the middle,” says Andy Gfy, an early Catch 22 customer who became one of its key staff, serving as doorman, bartender or Mr. Fixit as required. “The people who came to Catch came to dance. The crowd was no attitude; I never heard anyone making fun or teasing. Catch 22, to me, was a bunch of black sheep herded together.”

Andy Gfy (left) with Rob the lighting guy. Photo courtesy of Gfy.

Early on, the club’s programming included a punk Wednesday hosted and DJed by CIUT’s Mopa Dean, also the lead singer of the band Armed and Hammered, who frequently performed. The night later gave way to a long-running alt and industrial night DJed by Rono Box and hosted by Andy Gfy.

DJ Gio held down Fridays and Saturdays for some time. A popular and diverse DJ who also came to be known for his nights at The Phoenix and Klub Max, Cristiano had his ear to the ground. He and DJ Hanna epitomized the Catch approach with their Hell’s Kitchen Fridays.

“Musically, we covered a lot of ground, from psychedelic stuff to big beat, techno, jungle, grunge, alternative—anything and everything that was not getting played on the radio except for some stuff being played on 102.1 [a.k.a. CFNY],” says Cristiano.

Full disclosure: I took over Fridays from Cristiano and crew in October of 1993, when I launched and DJed the mixed queer alt night BENT, which ran for almost two years. I appreciate the men of Catch 22 to this day for their support of my programming ideas, which ranged from live bands to cabarets, leather parties to film-fest gatherings, queer community fundraisers and loads more.

The fashions at Catch 22 were varied. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

But the DJ who is most strongly associated with Catch 22’s early years and success is one Craig Beesack, a gifted club jock who would also become a beloved CFNY host. Beesack started off as the Thursday-night resident, working with infamous promoter Billy X, and was moved to Saturday nights in 1990. Cristiano had caught word that Beesack would soon host the program Warming Up the House on CFNY early Saturday eves—directly before Chris Sheppard’s infamous Club 102 live-to-air—and so the DJ would run from radio station to nightclub. He brought a sizable audience with him.

“That’s when the magic really started,” says Cristiano. “We got so slammed on Saturday nights. Mr. Beesack and his crew really made that place the best alternative the city had seen in a long time. I have so much respect for the guy. Craig played stuff from 1000 Homo DJs to Metallica, Testone to Bodycount, Stereo MCs and Nine Inch Nails. Everything was perfectly formatted and beat-mixed, if you can believe that.”

“Beesack was the man!” agrees Don Berns, who was then CFNY’s Program Director. “Craig was a totally unique DJ who combined industrial and heavier four-on-the-floor techno into a seamless mix that gave his night at Catch a unique flavor, and also made it very different from his weekly alt-rock night at The Cotton Club in Markham. His knowledge of the music, selection, and skills in playing it were the reasons I hired him to create Warming Up The House.

“I’m not a club person and have never enjoyed hanging out—except at Catch,” adds Berns, now an actor who also spins occasionally under his rave name of Dr. Trance. “Something about the underground vibe and the people there resonated with me. Catch 22 was the only club that had the vibe of a couple of underground NYC clubs I’d been to in the ’70s: dark, loud, cool people, cooler music.

“My friend Martin and I got into a pretty regular routine in 1990-91: spend Saturday night at Catch and then go to 23 Hop to continue the party with the Exodus boys. Once the raves got into high gear and we both joined the Nitrous crew, we eventually drifted away from that routine. But for nine months or so, Catch was an integral part of my social life. I would always discover interesting new music when Beesack was on the decks.” (Unfortunately, no one I interviewed for this story had a current contact for Craig Beesack and, as such, he could not be reached for comment.)

There was, in fact, a very pronounced overlap between some early 1990s alternative clubs in Toronto and the roots of what would become our massive rave scene. Catch 22 played an integral role, not only with the music its DJs played, but also by hosting electronic-music events that ran Saturday afterhours through to Sunday night.

Iain McPherson a.k.a. the pioneering DJ Iain who held residencies at clubs like Nuts & Bolts, OZ, and Limelight, and was a founder of the original Nitrous rave crew—initially came to Catch as a Saturday late-night rave DJ. He became the main Saturday club resident for most of 1993, playing a mix of alt, industrial, and new electronic dance music alongside friend and innovative DJ James Kekanovich.

“I think it was only natural that the early edgy production styles of rave music would find a sympathetic ear in the more open-minded audiences of alternative music,” says McPherson. “Despite its up-tempo disco underpinnings, the soundscapes of early rave screamed ‘Pay attention to me! I’m new, adventurous and often aggressive!’ How perfect for alternative crowds.”

Chris Twomey (left) with UK junglists DJ Kenny Ken and MC Fearless. Photo courtesy of Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch.

Not only did Catch 22 help introduce club-goers to new forms of electronic dance music—especially breaks, drum ‘n’ bass and techno—it also provided a licensed, stable space for raves when the scene was in its infancy.

Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch were both familiar faces at Catch. Ireton had worked at Cotton Club with Craig Beesack and followed him downtown to work as a Catch 22 bartender. Tulloch, a fan of industrial music, was a Catch customer from its first week.

They were the force behind a number of Saturday afterhours at Catch “on weekends when there were no raves,” Ireton and Tulloch tell me collectively by email. “There was only a rave every six weeks back then. No club or bar was playing rave music, and they were not willing to give up a weekend night, since they thought there would be no drinkers.”

Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch. Photo courtesy of them.

DJ Mark Oliver (left) and friend at Majic Mondays. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

The two were given Mondays at Catch 22. Majic Mondays were truly that, from the time they opened in September 1993 until the club’s closing in 1997. DJs Mark Oliver and Dr. No were the first to spin, but the line-up was different each week. Diverse local rave and EDM bricklayers like John E, Algorithm, James St. Bass, Tim Patrick, Mystical, Medicine Muffin, Terry Kelly, and Czech played alongside international guests who’d stayed in town after a weekend gig, including Mike Huckaby, Kenny Ken, Ellis Dee, L Double, and John ‘00’ Fleming.

“Majic Mondays was a gathering of music lovers of vast tastes and a wide range of ages,” share Ireton and Tulloch. “There was a community of people—all open to these new styles of electronic music. We were unique in that we didn’t just play one sound and Catch 22 was a unique venue for this music as it actually had a bathroom and running water—much more civilized than the warehouses that were being used for some of the raves!”

A collage of Majic Mondays flyers. Photo courtesy of Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch.

DJs who appeared at Majic Mondays. Photo courtesy of Mary Ireton and Joan Tulloch.

Who else played/worked there: Catch 22 was home to a few generations of local alt DJs who would go on to break new music and set the pace wherever they played.

“The DJs that came through Catch were some of the most influential in Toronto’s alternative scene,” agrees Mike Mckinlay a.k.a. DJ Michael X, who played a mix of industrial, goth, new wave, new rock, and Britpop at his X-Isle Thursdays and Rip Rig and Panic Saturdays.

“Craig Beesak, DJ Iain, Rono Box, DJ Jürgen, Die J Mars—all of these guys were changing the music scene and upshot the levels of what was happening in the clubs. Catch was one step for them in their evolutions. The club kept their customers happy by always looking for something new or different.”

Die J Mars in the DJ booth. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

DJ Jeff Caldwell

DJ Jürgen held down Industrial Strength Thursdays with the late Martin Streek, and then on his own, after Mckinlay’s X-Isle concluded. Mars—a Catch Friday resident after me—moved to New York and developed an impressive career as DJ, producer, remixer, and fashionista. Jeff Caldwell a.k.a. Jeff C was a much-loved Saturday resident later in Catch 22’s history, while many other top alt locals, including Shawn Macdonald, DJ Shannon, DJ Dwight, and Paul Dhingra all made good use of the Catch booth.

Martin Streek (left) and friends at Catch 22. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

“You see, everybody wanted to be a part of that place,” states Gio Cristiano. “We had no problem finding talent. Everybody did it for the music and to give back to the scene. To this day, I really respect everything that everybody did at Catch; everybody was so different, but so, so good.”

“I remember walking in to Catch and finding guys like Marilyn Manson, Trent Reznor, and Pop Will Eat Itself in there,” he adds. “Also, many members of Cirque de Soleil when they did their first show in T.O. They hung out because they loved our bar and staff, especially Suzette. She was the best bartender in the city at that time.”

“Catch 22’s bar and door staff were legendary and wonderful,” adds McPherson. “The place had a lovely, comfortable, community vibe to it.”

Paul, a.k.a. Rave Master. Photo courtesy of Andy Gfy.

Like many I spoke with, McPherson’s former DJ partner James Kekanovich makes special mention of Catch 22’s venerable doorman Paul a.k.a. Rave Master.

“Paul was the first touch point when entering the club, and his understanding of the scene being created there was an essential component to the experience. He was a familiar face and really knew the crowd.”

Staff would have to contend with only one big recurring problem.

“The dancefloor would go out of control when Ministry came on,” recalls Andy Gfy. “People just flew everywhere. Pat used to freak out about all the broken glass; the floor was covered in it. Eventually, it was decided that we couldn’t play Ministry or Rage Against the Machine between 12:30 and 1 a.m. [then last call in bars].”

Flyer for the final event, courtesy of Christy Washer.

What happened to it: In 1997, Catch 22’s owners found that the building’s landlord would not renew the lease. The club closed with a bash on May 31. 379 Adelaide West was soon renovated into the office building that exists today.

379 Adelaide St. W., as it appears today.

Pat Violo, in association with Liberty Group, opened infamous live-music bar and alternative dance club Velvet Underground at 510 Queen St. W. Many Catch 22 alumni can be found there, including Andy Gfy on bar and Paul a.k.a. Rave Master at the door.

There was a Catch 22 reunion party held last year, with DJs Mars, Jürgen and Jeff C, with talk of future events. A related Facebook group keeps the Catch community connected.

Thank-you to all those interviewed, as well as to Christy Washer and Tim Barraball for their contributions.

The post Then & Now: Catch 22 appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published April 26, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

As Clubland boomed at the turn of the millennium, this beloved Queen West space provided a big-room experience in an intimate, underground atmosphere—but it ultimately became a victim of its own success.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Element Bar, 553 Queen W.

Years in operation: 1999-2004

History: In the late 1990s, Toronto’s rave and house music scenes were booming. Raves attracted audiences of multiple thousands while even licensed clubs catering to underground tastes tended to hold at least 800. The Entertainment District was littered with venues—most of them commercial and unadventurous—while the College and Ossington strips had not yet developed into hotspots for small to mid-sized venues.

In this environment, a group of friends rented a decidedly intimate space on Queen, between Spadina and Bathurst, that had been home to popular pool hall Behind the Eight Ball and, briefly, 24/7 Billiards. The address was also known for after-hours parties on its top floor, dubbed Zodiac.

Tony Mutch, Marcus Boekelman, and their silent partner Patrik Xuereb all met in high school. By their late 20s, Boekelman and Mutch had both produced parties, with Boekelman having experienced Ibiza and London and promoted events in Toronto featuring electronic dance-music stars like Paul Oakenfold.

“Tony and I would fly to N.Y.C. for the weekend just to see Danny Tenaglia spin at The Tunnel or Sasha and Digweed at Twilo,” Boekelman recalls. “It all seemed so new and fresh, with techno and house gaining in popularity. This was a very exciting time, and you really felt like something culturally important was going on that belonged to our generation.”

This all set the stage for what would become Element Bar. The goals were simple.

“We were inspired by the energy of Toronto’s rave scene and by Industry nightclub, and wanted to bring select local DJs and monthly international guests to an environment that was intimate and underground,” explains Mutch.

“We wanted to create a place where you could hear the music we loved in a more comfortable, warm environment, and legally get a drink,” says Boekelman. “I remember going to Montreal a lot at the time, and there were a few bars that perfected this model: a great night out without taking it over the top, where you could hang with your friends and dance. The bigger parties were fun, but some nights you didn’t feel like the crowds, the lineups, uncertainties, and sketchiness.

“The Element space became available, and we saw an opportunity to create a little bar-club with big-room sound.”

Element opened on December 11, 1999 and immediately drew dancers to a stretch of Queen West not generally known for house music.

Opening night at Element Bar. Crowd (above), DJ Andy Roberts (below). Photos courtesy of Tony Mutch.

Why it was important: With a total legal capacity of roughly 300 people, Element was an unpretentious and versatile two-floor venue. The bar’s intimacy would be both a key attraction and, ultimately, its downfall. Other musically related Toronto clubs of the time—from Roxy Blu to System Soundbar were thriving. Element served as a good warm-up (or comedown) spot while also a great all-night hangout for seasoned clubbers and diverse bar-hoppers alike. It also filled a niche when Industry closed just eight months after Element opened.

“The idea was not to replace Industry, but to recreate a similar vibe in a more intimate space,” recalls AnnMarie McCullough a.k.a. DJ Amtrak, a fellow high-school friend of Element’s three owners who also was one of the club’s core weekend residents throughout its history.

“I feel like Element was exactly what was needed at that time, and I remember being so grateful that it happened right when it did. Having come through the rave scene, I was glad to be among a slightly older, more mature crowd that still wanted to dance, but was there for the music.”

Opening night at Element Bar. Bartender Alison Stevens (above), DJ Sneak (below). Photos courtesy of Tony Mutch.

Painted baby blue and orange, Element had a retro-modern feel, with a circuit-board mural running the entire wall length upstairs where globe lights hung and a vintage record player greeted passersby in the window. The upstairs was spacious and chill while downstairs was dark, sweaty and pounding, thanks to a sizable system designed by Apex Sound.

“Element had two distinct personalities,” says Mutch. “The music on the main floor was usually loungey vocal house. The downstairs was another world altogether—an alter ego. It was always very dark, very loud, hot, and smoky. The music was aggressive hard house or tech house. It was full sensory overload. The wood walls and floors and low ceiling resonated like you were standing inside a speaker cabinet. Anyone would feel comfortable on the main floor, but only seasoned partiers would understand the downstairs.”

“We spent most of our budget on the sound, not the décor, because that’s what we cared about most,” adds Boekelman. “One of the things that set us apart then was our DJ-booth placement. We put the DJ right on the dancefloor, not hidden away in some other tiny room or up on a pedestal like in many other clubs. The DJ was ‘the show,’ and you could literally reach out and touch them or make eye contact and say, ‘Hi, nice mix.’

“It was amazing to see some of these DJs so up close, working at their craft, especially then when vinyl was still the best choice. Dance-music people love to watch a DJ expertly handle a mix; it’s an art form, and if they get it right you show your appreciation. I think we were a popular place to play among DJs themselves because of this interaction with the crowd.”

Element may have been small, but many big-name international talents went out of their way to play there. Booking agents would place touring DJs at Element on a Friday, and they’d play for more cash elsewhere on a Saturday. Some chose to make surprise late-night appearances for fun, after earlier sets elsewhere.

“The international talent was amazing,” says McCullough, who also had a hand in bookings. “Everyone played at Element, with surprise sets from Sasha [of Sasha and Digweed], Nick Warren, and Sneak all in the first year.”

DJ Ludikris at Element. Photo courtesy of Tony Mutch.

That said, at its core, Element was a showcase of Toronto house and techno talent. Open Wednesdays through Saturdays, with special events on Sundays, the bar featured key local residents including Andy Roberts, Kenny Glasgow, Ludikris, Gryphon, Nick Holder, Evil P, Peter and Tyrone, Angel and Cullen, and DJ Krista. I also played monthly in Element’s later years.

“Given that Toronto had an abundance of talent, it was a natural fit to promote it,” says Mutch. “We were very selective, and tried to be true to our house and tech-house format.”

Communicate flyer, courtesy of Wayne Mealing.

Among the most popular of Element’s residencies were Communicate Fridays, which ran from September 2001 until just before the club’s closing. Produced by brothers Steve and Wayne Mealing a.k.a. DJs Stretch & Hooker—then co-owners of massive rave production company LifeForce—Communicate also featured co-residents Myka and Tim Patrick.

“We were known to play it loud,” says Wayne Mealing a.k.a. Hooker. “I remember nights in the winter when the upstairs would get packed, and the front window would be a sweaty, foggy mess. We’d get carried away, blast big party tracks, and end up having a mini-rave on the first floor. It was great to be upstairs or down.”

“Communicate was a locals-driven night so we didn’t have many guests,” Mealing recalls. “However, we did have Donald Glaude play on our third week, and it was off the hook. The party was amazing on both floors.”

“That was one of the most memorable nights for me,” says Boekelman. “Donald was just killing it, and the place was rammed. People were going nuts that night, with their hands in the air. It was so hot and sweaty, it felt like it was raining in the room. I saw one girl dancing and crying and screaming and laughing all at the same time. That night was magic.”

Most of all, Communicate was a chance to hear Toronto DJs who would normally be found playing at much larger venues—like Turbo, System Soundbar and raves galore—stretch out their sounds. Mealing explains why he thinks the bar’s format worked.

“Element was special because it offered something that Toronto was short on: it was intimate, affordable, a great place to meet people as a starting point of a night, and it also usually ran to 4 a.m. Element was very welcoming—stress- and attitude-free.”

“Element was around during one of the city’s golden eras for house, and there was a lot happening in Toronto for this kind of music,” adds Dino Demopoulos, who played vocal and deep house alongside brother Terry during an earlier Friday residency. “What Element got right was a tight focus on keeping things pure, without too many frills. It was a fun little club that didn’t take itself too seriously.

“People often tell me stories about being first exposed to house music at Element,” continues Demopoulos. “Since it was a bar—at least our upstairs floor was—it was a more accessible context to get exposed to this music than a lot of other clubs in the city. Yet, despite its more mainstream appeal, we kept it very deep and pure there. That was cool; since we didn’t have to dumb it down, the energy was consistently so high.”

Element was open to all, with none of the dress code or restrictive door policies that many other dance music clubs of the time put in place to signal “maturity.”

“It wasn’t a beauty contest with a velvet rope and red carpet at the front door,” Boekelman states. “A good vibe in a club has very little to do with how people look; it’s attitude that makes the difference. There was a very diverse mix of people coming together at Element. Everyone was there for the music. My girlfriend’s dad came by for a visit one night, and spent the entire evening on the dancefloor.”

Tony Mutch, DJ Amtrak and Marcus Boekelman.
Photo courtesy of AnnMarie McCullough a.k.a. DJ Amtrak.

Who else played/worked there: Element Bar had a friendly, inviting vibe that extended beyond its size. Security was minimal, physical fights didn’t seem to happen, and the bar’s staff was instrumental to its appeal.

“Most of the staff was there for the four full years of Element,” says Mutch. “They were loyal, and gave Element a big part of its personality.”

“I remember that it was joining a family rather than just a job,” says Julian Reyes, who worked as both head bartender and manager during Element’s run. “The core group of people was there because of already established relationships, and if you were to be hired, you needed to have a genuine interest in house music. I truly believe that we welcomed people into the scene with open arms, and that energy was definitely infectious.

Other bartenders, including Alyssa Daniels, Grace Van Berkum, “Disco” Dave Fraser, Marty Smits, and Francesca Zielinski also doubled as hosts.

“I remember Element as having a real family vibe to it,” confirms Zielinski. “All the regulars and staff were connected on a personal level, and really loved the music. It wasn’t about being seen or what people were wearing; it was truly about the music.”

On that note, many other prominent T.O. DJs held it down on one, or both, of Element’s floors. On the tech tip, Fukhouse produced parties featuring DJs like Ian Guthrie, Eric Downer, and The Dukes while 2012 JUNO nominee Arthur Oskan played a live P.A. at Element in 2003.

Mark Scaife and Matt Coleridge—then infamous for their Breathe night at System—played regularly, as did established house DJ/producer Jason Hodges, and other local house talents like Mike Gleeson and Mat Lunnen. The Activate crew bumped breaks on Wednesdays during Element’s final year, with DJs including Evan G, Red Turtle, and Dave Saddler.

A little known fact is that Element was also a hip-hop haven on select nights, with DJ Fase having held down Touch Thursdays and then Sundays with co-resident DJ Hangman. In 2002, Fase and DJ Grouch even hosted Toronto’s first underground hip-hop live-to-air, with Lifted Wednedays broadcast as part of CIUT’s Project Bounce program. (Hear a Lifted set here.)

As for international guests, the extensive and impressive list also includes DJ Dan, Doc Martin, DJ Heather, Hector Romero, Josh Wink, Steve Lawler, Ellen Allien, Marco Carola, Steve Bug, Speedy J, and Detroit techno godfather Derrick May, who headlined on the August long weekend of 2001.

“After we made the booking, we were concerned about turnout because the event was on a Sunday,” recalls Mutch. “So we promoted it as free before 11 p.m.. because, ordinarily, we never had a huge turnout before then.

“On that night, the bar was packed by 11 p.m., with no door cover collected. To cover costs, we had to let more people in, but by midnight we were way over capacity, with a massive line out front. That was a red flag to the AGCO [Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario] inspectors who regularly cruised down Queen Street, so they paid us a visit. That over-capacity ticket issued resulted in a 30-day license suspension. Trying to manage capacity was by far the most stressful aspect of the bar business as the penalties were so severe.”

Promoter Gavin ‘Gerbz’ Bryan (co-owner of Industry) on left, hanging at Element. Photo courtesy of Wayne Mealing.

What happened to it: That Derrick May gig was a sign of things to come.

“For me, the club simply outgrew itself,” says Boekelman, who sold his shares in November 2001, leaving Mutch as sole owner. “The brand was bigger than the space. We had constant problems with over-capacity. Many nights, more people would be turned away than actually got in, which wasn’t great for business. Looking back now, we would have done well to relocate to a larger space under the same name.”

By 2003, Element’s crowds became less consistent but the visits by AGCO became more constant. At the end of April 2004, Element’s liquor license was revoked and the bar was forced to close suddenly.

“Element closed because the AGCO would not renew the liquor license,” says Mutch. “The landlord sold the building at the same time, and the space became a clothing store.”

Though neither is now involved in nightlife ventures, Boekelman and Mutch did open resto/lounge Habitat at 735 Queen St. W. in 2002. Many of Element’s resident DJs, including Amtrak, went on to spin there.

“I think most people look back fondly on their time at Element, whether they worked or partied there,” summarizes McCullough, now based in Vancouver. “It was a great club, and I think it left its mark on Toronto’s club scene. Places like Footwork definitely emulate what Element created.”

553 Queen West is currently home to businesses including clothing store Brava on the ground floor and fitness centre Core Studio on the third.

553 Queen West in 2012

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