Article originally published February 11, 2014 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

In the face of King West’s rampant condo-ization and nightclub-ificaiton, this beloved, recently shuttered basement venue held it down for underground sounds—and continues to do so at a newly opened space in the Annex.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Footwork, 425 Adelaide W.

Years in operation: 2005-2013

History: The story of one of this city’s most beloved, internationally recognized house and techno clubs begins with the unlikely pairing of two men raised on rock.

Hamilton native Joel Smye was a long-haired fan of bands like Pearl Jam and Rage Against the Machine until his parents sent him to Switzerland to complete high school. While there, he also got an education in rave. By 1997, he hit up massive Toronto parties each weekend, and taught himself to DJ. As Baby Joel, he would become known for his love of funky Chicago house.

Originally from Ottawa, Stephan Philion moved to Toronto 11 years ago, already experienced in the hospitality industry, and in throwing house parties, which were largely a means to accumulate sound and lighting gear. He had a lean toward Britpop and grunge until party promoter and friend Gairy Brown took Philion to Fly Nightclub, where he fell for dance music.

Smye and Philion met in the early 2000s, while waiters at Brassai. The two talked music. Philion got to hear Smye DJ, loved his take on house, and invited the DJ to check a club sound system that was just gathering dust at the time.

“I expected a couple of JBLs beside a TV or something like that,” admits Smye. “But, basically, the bass bins that would later be in Footwork were laid out flat across Steph’s bedroom floor. He had to crawl over them to get to his bed.

“We decided we should do something with them, so talked about doing a one-off at 99 Sudbury.”

Joel Syme (left) and Stephan Philion. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

At the time, 99 was still operating as a film studio, with occasional late-night parties. Philion and Smye had success with theirs, and came to manage the studio’s bar on weekends from 2003 to 2005.

Smye DJed a lot, and the pair booked in underground house and techno DJs and promoters like Mike Gleeson, Mat Lunnen, Lee Osborne, and Fukhouse. They lost the space when 99 Sudbury landed a year-long film contract.

As luck would have it, two regulars at Brassai frequently asked the duo about their parties.

“I think it was the same week that we were out of 99 that they said, ‘You know, we have this space that’s right around the corner. We just changed the locks, everything is up to code, and the liquor permit is in place—you’d just have to come and make it your own,’” recalls Smye.

Previously, the basement at Adelaide and Brant had housed piano bar Cry Baby, and dance club The Matrix before that. Initially, it didn’t feel like the right space for Smye and Philion, especially with its many windows that looked onto Adelaide.

“Then we came up with the idea of flipping it around, and having the entrance be from the alley, while boarding up the windows to make that half the dancefloor area,” Smye recounts.

After a month-and-a-half and “a curbed rent so we could have the opportunity to start out as cheaply as possible,” the two opened Footwork Dancebar in May of 2005.

They launched in a rapidly changing area. Soulful-underground-house club Roxy Blu, located across the street on Brant, would close that July, replaced by an upscale restaurant. Trendy spots like Brant House and Century Room were new to the neighbourhood.

Footwork was different. Not only was it located in a nondescript office building, the entrance was down an unmarked alley on its south side. Equally disorienting on first visit was the short maze of a hallway you stepped into. Often jammed with people both entering the club and exiting to smoke, the hallway was soundproofed and painted black. Senses kicked into overdrive upon entering the pulsing main space. There was a lounge area and some seating, but Footwork was about two main things: music and dancing.

Photo courtesy of Jonathan Rosa.

Why it was important: “We were pretty green at the time, and didn’t really know what we were getting into,” Smye confesses. “Our initial concept wasn’t really to be a full-on nightclub; we had some club nights that we wanted to do, but our goal was modeled on something a little more like Element—a dance bar.”

Still, they worked to bring warehouse sounds and DJs to a licensed club, with mixed results.

“We had a bit of cockiness to us, I think, when we opened because we had done 99 Sudbury for a couple of years, and it was successful,” says Smye. “When we were there, it was really easy to get people to come out, for obvious reasons.

“We thought that would translate easily to a bar and club. What we found was that our crowd came at two in the morning, looking for something to drink. We had to explain that it was a legit operation. People were a bit confused for a while.”

Though the Activate crew had some success promoting Wednesdays, and occasional Thursdays were busy, Footwork soon opened on weekends only. While legal capacity was only 255 people, they rarely reached that.

“The first year was rocky,” shares Smye. “It was off-and-on, which left us scratching our heads a little.

“We really got our stride going when DJ Addy brought us a Friday weekly a bit before the start of year two. Addy brought with him a crowd, a sound and a group of DJs who we hadn’t really worked with before.”

Addy at Footwork. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

DJing professionally since the late ’90s, Addy Ranh had held residencies at clubs including The Guvernment, System Soundbar, Film Lounge, Turbo, Tonic, and Mad Bar. He knew Joel from Hamilton clubs, and fell for Footwork on first visit.

“I loved its high ceiling, alleyway entrance, and great owners who truly understand the culture,” says Ranh, who’d proposed Domestic Fridays, with a focus on local talent.

Main residents included Addy, Deko-ze, Carlo Lio, The Junkies (then called Vinyl Junkies), Sydney Blu, Nathan Barato, and Joee Cons. Domestic was busy from the start.

“The launch was slammed, with 400 people inside, and 300 trying to get in,” says Ranh. “Traffic backed up on Brant Street. Security was overwhelmed. Chuck Liddell was there.”

Perhaps the former UFC champ was lured by Domestic’s tough sound.

“Fridays’ sound was clubbier,” Smye says. “Its DJs played at places like The Guvernment and Comfort Zone, and had more of that pumping, hard-house vibe, which is also kind of a Toronto sound.

“I give Addy a lot of credit for helping us to get cooking, and to find a good balance because Domestic Fridays allowed us to focus energy on developing our Saturday sound.”

“Footwork came around at the right time—when [so many] clubs were switching to mainstream hip-hop and Top 40,” credits Ranh, in turn. “We went from having seven house clubs to literally two, Guvernment and Footwork. Footwork kept the torch alive, and fed the culture.”

Carlo Lio (left) and Nathan Barato a.k.a. The Roaches at Footwork. Photo by John Mitchell.

To do so, Smye and Philion worked with a variety of promoters on Saturday nights. Each brought their own sonic specialty, like Fukhouse for techno, Vunk for progressive house, and Nine for funky Chicago house. After Nine folded, its main resident DJ Mike Gleeson launched Bounce with Justin Riva.

“The Bounce crew became, and still are, our go-to guys for Chicago house, and related stuff,” Smye says. “When Fukhouse disbanded, Platform took over that techno role.”

“Footwork really was one of the only places you could reliably go to hear great underground music, especially in its earlier days,” confirms Gleeson, who’d DJed in Hamilton before going on to do Hustlin’ parties with Mat Lunnen at venues including Boa Redux and 99 Sudbury. “That made Footwork a hub for underground electronic music, and also provided a much-needed base from which the scene could survive and grow. The musical diversity attracted all kinds of different people; you can’t have a strong scene without it.”

Like Gleeson, Michael Babb a.k.a. DJ/producer Deko-ze was one of the earliest DJs to play at Footwork, and was impressed.

“Excuse my crassness, but I got an erection when I first saw the DJ booth,” says the notoriously forthright Babb, a veteran of the country’s top clubs and raves.

“You could immediately tell it was a DJ, Joel, who had overseen its design. So many club owners don’t realize that us DJs can perform at our best when the booth is put together properly. It’s also refreshing and rare to find owners who want to promote good quality music rather than solely make money.”

As a result, the skilled and energetic Deko-ze would go on to spin his chunky sounds at Footwork throughout the club’s history, even hosting annual birthday and Christmas specials.

Stephan Philion. Photo by Sasha Niveole from Purple Tree Photography.

Philion and Smye, in fact, got a whole lot of things right at Footwork, including sound and lights. Lighting was simple, but effective while sound was rich and full. The system always sounded tuned.

“It was pretty much always the same system in there,” says Smye. “We added a couple of pieces over the years, but I think it was just that we had the right pieces and the right amount for the room. It was never about overkill; it was about having sound that was appropriate.”

The club’s size and floor plan also worked to its advantage on many fronts.

“Footwork had a strange layout, but a very positive and contagious floor energy,” describes Gleeson. “It was small enough to be intimate and, as a DJ, make a direct connection with the dancers, yet big enough to host amazing artists and events.”

Jonathan Rosa. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

“From a DJ’s perspective, something about that hourglass shape made it easier to connect with and control the crowd’s energy and vibe,” agrees Jonathan Rosa a.k.a. Jon Jon, a resident at Footwork since 2007 who’s also been involved in the club’s marketing and promotions since 2009. “Even the international touring DJs, like Guy Gerber and Marco Carola, emphasized this.”

Footwork also gained a reputation for its audience.

“Footwork crowds knew their music,” explains Philion. “More than once, big DJs would tell us that they were nervous to play. A lot of that had to do with the proximity of the people, but also the feel in the room, the vibe, and the knowledge of their fans.”

Put simply, it felt good to be in a room where you could trust that most people there also wanted to get lost in the music.

Footwork crowd early in the club’s history. Photo courtesy of Jonathan Rosa.

Photo courtesy of Jonathan Rosa.

“Footwork was a music-focussed venue, from the programming to the people who came there to dance,” says Smye. “This created a vibe that was different from a lot of other clubs.

“The magic of dance music, I’ve always felt, is that point in the night where there’s all sorts of people mixed into the room and, ultimately, they all really click together. Given the size of Footwork, that seemed to happen pretty regularly.”

“It’s no secret that we have had a long list of great nightclubs here in Toronto, and I’ve pretty much been to and worked at them all at one point or another,” offers in-demand DJ/producer Carlo Lio. “But Footwork was all about the music from day one, and I feel people really noticed this. It was a place where everything just felt right, and that is never easy to find. Footwork really became a home for all of us, whether you were a partygoer, DJ or promoter.”

Footwork’s Domestic weekly was the globetrotting house and tech talent’s “first real residency in the city.” Even as his popularity soared, Lio continued to guest at the re-branded Fridays (Rehab and then Luv This City), open on some Saturdays, and produced parties including UNION, a hugely popular collaborative gig also featuring Footwork favourites Nathan Barato and The Junkies.

Union flyer courtesy of Jonathan Rosa.

“Footwork played a key role in my career,” Lio emphasizes. “It has moulded me to become the artist I am today. It’s given me the chance to play with some of the biggest DJs on the planet, and has taught me tonnes about the industry as a whole. The Footwork crowd itself was like a drug; playing for the right people who love the music just as much as you do is indescribable. It can never get old!”

Footwork’s commitment to Toronto electronic music talent has been key to the careers of many who now tour the world.

In addition to Lio, Barato, The Junkies, and Sydney Blu, people like Jamie Kidd, James Teej, My Favorite Robot, and Art Department come to mind.

“It was more by circumstance than design, but Footwork did become a breeding ground for a lot of talents who have seen success around the world,” allows Smye. “Take the No.19 crew, Nitin and Jonny White [also half of Art Department]. We kind of grew up together. They brought in DJs and would also be on the bill, but had a tough time doing events at times because that sound they were into wasn’t really taking off. They were friends, and we wanted to do more with them, but from a club perspective, we didn’t always find that their parties made the room happen. I give them credit; they could have easily had more nights with us if they’d sometimes picked up the pace a little, but they stuck with their sound, and obviously have done well with it.”

Nitin now tours regularly, and is at work on his debut album. Addy is also known as a producer, having released music on labels including Toolroom, Hot Fingers, and Younan Music. Rosa and fellow Footwork resident DJ Jeff Button are among the many other Footwork-affiliated names that have begun to rise.

“The Footwork guys have gone out of their way to champion some of Toronto’s strong local talent,” confirms Babb a.k.a. Deko-ze. “They’ve been teaching the new generation that there doesn’t need to be an international DJ to bring credibility to a night.”

With its small size, and dedicated following, Footwork was also well-positioned to present emergent sounds and artists. Saturdays, in particular, reflected shifts in underground house and tech. An example is following the No.19 lead to slowed beats, as Footwork did when they teamed up with Jazz Spinder to present the Modern Love Affair series.

“There was this new sound coming up – deeper, with a slower tempo—and a lot of the artists weren’t yet well known or well-received in Toronto, even though it was getting really big elsewhere in the world,” says Smye.

“We created a brand so that the parties would be more about that brand, and people would just trust us that the DJs would be quality. Toronto has a knack for getting stuck on the same old stuff sometimes, so we wanted to give ourselves some freedom to bring in new acts, and take some chances.”

Modern Love Affair flyer courtesy of Jonathan Rosa.

“Clubs these days get stuck with sounds or DJs, or only book what’s hot and drop what’s not,” adds Lio. “Footwork was the opposite; they evolved. Their ear was always to the ground; they moulded with the new underground music, supported rising talents, and were willing to give it all a shot. You can’t beat a mentality like that. This is one of those special clubs that DJs will take less of a fee to play at. It was, and is, an internationally renowned club.”

The club did gain a surprisingly large international rep given its relatively small size. Footwork even clocked in at number 36 in last year’s Top 100 Clubs list compiled by DJ Mag.

“That caught us off-guard, to be honest,” allows Smye. “I think what got a good buzz going around the world were the DJs coming in, and having such a great time playing there. If you ever stood in the Footwork DJ booth when the night was going off, it really was the best seat in the house. You had a great view, you were close to the crowd—it just had such an intimate feel, and a lot of the DJs we booked played at mega-clubs so they’d come to Footwork and it would bring them back, probably, to the feelings they had when the first got into playing.”

A packed Footwork crowd. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

Who else played/worked there: Several hundred local and international DJs graced Footwork’s booth during the club’s eight-year-run. Everyone I speak with has favourite memories.

“Two standout DJs who played with us a lot in the early years, and have become good friends, are Lee Burridge and Green Velvet,” offers Smye. “We still work with both of them a lot.”

“Lee Burridge, hands down, every time,” agrees longtime clubber and head Footwork bartender Kellie Nelles. “He’s a killer DJ, an amazing spirit, and just fun all around. I won’t forget the time Lee DJed from the dancefloor.

“Also, Richie Hawtin on a Thursday—how much better could it get than hearing him at an intimate venue like Footwork? Of course, Green Velvet: I remember the night he played nearby, but came in to Footwork and sang happy birthday to himself.”

While Nelles also makes mention of Dubfire, Steve Bug, Jamie Jones, Derrick Carter, Lee Foss, and Stephan Bodzin, many people highlight Danny Howell’s Footwork debut.

“Danny was booked to play open till close, so from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m.,” Smye says. “We came up with the concept of doing a cocktail hour from 9-10 p.m., with no music on whatsoever. But Danny’s records got lost at the airport, and I was there trying to get him.

“By 10 o’clock, Footwork was at capacity. The anticipation had really built, the room was already getting sweaty, and the DJ hadn’t shown up yet. At about 10:20, the door opened, there was Danny, and the whole crowd started to chant his name. Danny is kind of a shy character, and was pretty overwhelmed by what he walked into—a room with no music, and getting to put his first record on for a packed club.”

Deadmau5 made his Toronto debut at Footwork in 2007, and returned as a surprise guest during Sydney Blu’s birthday years later. (Click through the photo gallery at the top of this article for scenes from these and other fondly remembered parties at Footwork.)

“Harry Romero was one of my favourite DJs to come through,” enthuses Deko-ze. “My spot was in the middle of the dancefloor for his entire set. When DJ Dan was in, it was always a zoo! I love seeing a crowd raging with crazy energy!”

“On big nights, the energy levels could get pretty crazy,” concurs Rosa. “I remember being in the backroom one night, and hearing the crowd go off; they sounded just like people going up and down on a roller coaster.”

That could have been in February 2007, on the night that AD/D presented Britain’s Switch, a.k.a. Solid Groove.

“Switch was a big one for me,” says an excited Philion. “That was a totally different type of music as well—it was fresh and new. I so remember that night; it was just relentless, track after track. The walls were throbbing. Every surface that people could stand on, they did.”

“Switch’s laptop kept shutting off in the middle of a track, and every time it stopped, that just made people go even crazier,” adds Gleeson. “I’ve never seen people dancing on the bar, and those narrow, six-inch-wide drink ledges before. Between that, and the slow torrent of condensation raining down from the ceiling because of the heat, I can’t recall a more intense night!

“And the second time we brought Sonny Fodera was also incredible. It was so packed so early, and so high in positive energy, with smiles all around.”

While other promoters, including HouseAddict, Boogie Inc., I/O Productions, Box of Kittens, and Embrace all presented multiple shows at Footwork, one promo crew especially stands out on the Saturday-night front.

Platform, a partnership of longtime promoter Alex Mastro and DJ/producer Jeremy Kesten, a.k.a. Jeremy K, presented more than a hundred techno and tech-house events at Footwork, beginning in 2007. Like the Footwork founders, Mastro and Kesten have ears tuned for high-quality sounds rising from the electronic-music underground.

“We did events more frequently, and gained some real momentum with Footwork, in the final few years,” says Mastro. “We created a strong bond with the owners, the patrons, and especially the DJs. When artists tell their agent, ‘This is the club I want to play because I know it will be an amazing show,’ it helps to secure better bookings.

“There were many memorable nights, and some that got totally crazy. Marco Carola played a year ago, the night after he played the Hurricane Sandy relief charity in New York put on by Leonardo Di Caprio. Footwork was at capacity by 9:15 p.m., before we normally even open.

“Also, there was the Guy Gerber show where someone pulled the fire alarm. Guy refused to stop playing. He played to an empty club for 20 minutes as the fire department sorted things out. Guy would not leave the decks, and the people didn’t leave outside the venue. When they were let back let in, the dancefloor went crazy.”

More recent Platform presentations included Mano Le Tough, Dixon, and Hot Since 82.

“Many times, you left Footwork feeling you had learned something about music, from one of the top acts on the planet,” says Kesten. “This is the magic of a venue like Footwork: It’s the experience that this music was made for.”

Parallel to this ran Footwork’s frequently mentioned community mindset.

“Footwork’s greatest aspect was its family-oriented environment,” asserts Lio. “We all know this is a cutthroat industry, and people will step on each other to get ahead. But it wasn’t like that with this crew. We all wanted to grow together, and wanted to see everyone do well. It was inspiring, to say the least.

“Our crowd was also very protective of the club,” says Philion. “If there was something not right happening, it would go down the chain, and the problem would be solved, whatever that was. We really wanted Footwork to be a respectful place—no bullshit, no hierarchy.”

Bartenders Veronika Sparkles and Dave Collier. Photo by John Mitchell.

“Our staff was key in that as well,” Smye acknowledges. “We had a pretty consistent crew; a lot of our core people were there for years.”

Nelles, who first worked at 99 Sudbury, bartended throughout Footwork’s history. She was joined early on by Jamie Miller and Erin Allaby.

“Erin was key,” says Smye. “Steph and I weren’t so organized in our early years, and she really took control of things.”

“Jon Rosa is our right-hand man,” adds Philion. “And he can throw a party single-handedly.”

Rosa himself points to Nelles, and Carl Barnes, Footwork’s head of security: “Both are super popular with our patrons; they go above and beyond in the kindness and customer service department.”

“Special mention to Carl for being nicest head bouncer ever,” Platform’s Mastro concurs. “Also, ’JQ,’ the soundtech, is the most wacky-yet-genius tech we have ever worked with. I would compare him to MacGyver. If something was broke, he could fix it with some glue from a Zig-Zag rolling paper, some electrical tape, and wood. He would build things in the blink of and eye, and we had no idea how this was even possible. He saved many situations.”

Carl Barnes (left) and Rafwat Shauki. Photo by Marko Kovacevic, courtesy of Jonathan Rosa.

What happened to it: In a twist that speaks both to Footwork’s success, and the health of Toronto’s electronic-music underground, the club closed last year largely because it got too busy. A new home became necessary.

“It outgrew its capacity,” says Gleeson. “With double or triple the number of people wanting to get in as were allowed, it was time.”

The King West crowd had found Footwork, as did new generations of clubbers. Many went to the club for the first time when it held afterparties related to the Digital Dreams and VELD Festivals.

“There was definitely an influx of new kids who were introduced to the music through [the mainstream success of] EDM, and found their way to us,” says Smye.

On a related note, Footwork partnered last summer with Platform and Embrace to produce the Electric Island picnic and concert series on Centre Island. (It returns this year.)

“Electric Island also helped Footwork,” says Philion. “When you get 5,000 people per event for four events, there will be some new energy as a result. We had a lot of new faces for the last four months. We gave about a month’s notice that we were closing, and heard a lot of ‘What? I’ve only being going here for two weeks!’”

The last year at Footwork was its busiest to date, so it did come as a shock when the closure was announced last September.

Smye, however, says he and Philion knew they wanted to start anew as far back as three years ago.

“We wanted to grow. We’d built ourselves up to a point, and there were other artists we wanted to bring in, but just couldn’t have at Footwork. Also, the neighbourhood had been changing around us. It was one thing after another. Just before we closed, another condo went up right beside us. You’d walk up the alley, and people’s bedrooms and balconies were right there. We were already actively looking, but that factored into it. Mostly, Steph and I were itching to do something new.”

Footwork closed with an incredible two months of programming, with guests including Lee Burridge, Chus+Ceballos, Marcel Dettman, Miss Honey Dijon, Benoit & Sergio, and Hot Since 82.

“Hot Since 82 played a killer, killer set on the second-to-last weekend,” says Nelles. “The vibe was off the hook; we really saw young and old come together during some of our final days. It truly makes me teary-eyed thinking of that night.”

The line-ups outside of Footwork during its final night. Photos by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

The final weekend of Oct. 18-19 was fully devoted to local talent. Deko-ze played as part of the Last Dance, and greeted Footwork’s closure with a mix of sadness and optimism.

“To me, there are certain clubs that the underground scene will always reminisce about in reverential tones: Industry, Boa, System Soundbar, Turbo, and now Footwork,” says Babb. “I’m reminded of their integral influence whenever I travel; people always mention these clubs when talking about Toronto.” (Deko-ze travels regularly, releases on labels including Jungle Funk, which he co-owns with Jerome Robins, and is a resident at Fly, Guvernment, Comfort Zone, and now CODA.)

Also in October, it was announced that Footwork had purchased the club space at 794 Bathurst, formerly Annex Wreckroom. Their first party was Oct. 26.

“When we found the space, we pretty much had our calendar booked at Footwork, but had a buyer for that club lined up so it all came together,” explains Smye. “We decided that, rather than close down and do parties elsewhere, we would do them in the new space while we renovated during the week. It was a very interesting, gruelling few months of trying to renovate, and get the word out, while also trying not to say too much about what we’d be doing until it was the right time.”

“The last month at Footwork was especially epic,” adds Rosa, who, along with core staff like bartender Nelles and security head Barnes, moved to the new event space, now known to the world as CODA.

“It definitely felt like we left at our peak, but that’s the energy we want to channel straight into CODA. It’s definitely indicative of a scene not only maturing, but also flexin’.”

Joel (left) and Steph, then of Footwork and now of CODA. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

CODA opened Jan. 18 with Art Department, and has featured impressive bookings each following week. Attendance has been high, and the reception positive.

With a capacity double that of Footwork, a stage that allows for live shows, and a new floor that adds some bounce for dancing bodies, CODA has the bases covered. Smye tells me they plan to program a variety of sounds, with live shows during the week and electronic music on weekends. Former Wreckroom head honcho Mark Atkinson was also hired as CODA’s General Manager.

Upcoming CODA events include Sydney Blu this Friday (Feb. 14), Yes Yes Y’all’s fifth anniversary (Feb. 21), Soul Clap (Feb. 22), beatboxer Beardyman (Feb. 27), and a Stones Throw special featuring Peanut Butter Wolf and JRocc (March 6).

No matter the music, it will be heard through a high-calibre soundsystems built and installed by PK Sound. Owner Paul Magnuson counts himself as a fan of Footwork.

“If you were to compare the two clubs, the major difference [in sound] would be power,” says Magnuson. “You’ll feel the system like never before, adding to the already intense experience Footwork provided. I really couldn’t compare this system to any other in North America; it’s very unique, even for us. The use of our large format line, and the placement of strategic delays, allows for a concert-like experience in a small room. Anyone attending events at CODA can expect to hear the music as it was intended by the composer or producer, with the all the power, depth, and clarity offered by modern acoustic technology. We’ve been really excited to unleash this system in Toronto, especially at CODA. Steph and Joel are incredibly passionate guys, and care about the people, the music, and the community. They’ve created something truly special.”

Adds Gleeson, “CODA is much bigger, and it might be difficult to retain that same intimate feel that Footwork had, but considering the structural changes they’ve made inside, I think it will be a big improvement.” (Gleeson continues on as a resident there, and recently released Your Love, a collaborative EP recorded with local funky-house duo Speedboats & Big Explosions.)

“It’s always sad to see a place this close to your heart close its doors, but everything does come to an end,” reasons Lio, who soon has releases coming out on Carl Cox’s Intec and Loco Dice’s Desolat in addition to remixing Audion for Spectral Sound.

“I am super happy for Steph and Joel, and the success of Footwork,” Lio adds. “They left on a high note, and I’m happy they didn’t skip a beat because we all know they have so much more to contribute to the Toronto underground. They are vital to this scene.”

The former Footwork space at 425 Adelaide St. W. will soon reopen as The Ace Lounge. Owner Jack (no last name provided) did not care to confirm any further details.

Addendum: inspired by this Then & Now story of Footwork, Toronto DJ Jeff Button and his DigDeep project compiled all of the live sets recorded at the club that they could find on Soundcloud. Enjoy many hours of listening below.

Thank you to participants Addy Ranh, Alex Mastro, Carlo Lio, Joel Smye, Jonathan Rosa, Kellie Nelles, Michael ‘Deko-ze’ Babb, Mike Gleeson, Paul Magnuson, Stephan Philion, and to John Mitchell, Sasha Niveole and Jeff Button.

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

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

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

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Boa Redux, 270 Spadina Ave.

Years in operation: 2003–2005

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boa in action. Photo courtesy of Rony Hitti.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friends at Boa Redux. Photo courtesy of Rony Hitti.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Year’s Eve flyer courtesy of Rony Hitti.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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