Article originally published December 20, 2013 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

In the late 1990s, this quirky three-storey Dundas West venue provided a homebase for emergent female DJs and was a hotbed for techno, drum ‘n’ bass and all kinds of experimentation. It also helped launch the careers of Caribou, Peaches, and future Azari & III member Christian Newhook.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: We’ave, 330 Dundas St. W.

Years in operation: 1997–2000

History: There is a row of heritage properties along Dundas West, between McCaul and Beverley Streets and directly opposite the Art Gallery of Ontario, that tend to catch the eye. Built in the late 19th century as homes, the properties at 312–356 Dundas West gained heritage status in 1973, and now host a mix of galleries, cafés, and other businesses.

The building at number 330 stands out for its shape, colour, and newness. An infill property that sits snugly between number 326 (the Howard Bryant House) and 334 (the Richard Chadd House), 330 is the relatively modern two-and-a-half-storey commercial building that replaced one of the original detached houses. It’s a quirky build, but not entirely out of place with OCAD University right around the corner.

The address opened as We’ave, an arts and music complex, in March of 1997. Its original general manager, Sherri Ranger, had envisioned the venue as an artists’ co-op.

“We’ave stood for ‘We Have,’ which was Sherri’s concept,” explains musician and DJ Barbi Castelvi, hired in April ’97 as its live-music booker and publicist.

“They were having some parties, but there was no liquor licence or restaurant yet,” Castelvi explains in an email interview. “It was literally a drop-in artist co-op. [Experimental jazz ensemble] GUH already had a residency; they were Sherri’s friends. There were also artist workshops, curated by Sherri.”

By mid-April, Ranger departed as she believed the project was becoming too commercialized (she spoke of this in an April 1997 interview with EYE Weekly). Castelvi does agree that the idea of an artist co-op did not hold great appeal for We’ave’s main investor, Eddy Chin, or filmmaker Cindy Archer, also deeply involved in developing the space.

“Cindy worked hard at opening the restaurant and did all the hiring,” says Castelvi. “The restaurant did open, and the food was good. They were trying to appeal to the AGO-goers across the street.”

Music and art, however, became We’ave mainstays.

In addition to performances by GUH (who were often joined by guests like Wooden Stars and Julie Doiron), musical acts including Saracen, Ember Swift, Bent, Tuuli, and Guitar Army were programmed by Castelvi. She also performed as vocalist of new-wave band The Spy, and booked in rock DJs like Starboy (a member of Robin Black’s Intergalactic Rock Stars band). An early Blowup event featured founding DJ Davy Love alongside bands Poppyseed and the Love Explosion Orchestra and Man Rays.

Still, Castelvi says that We’ave “wasn’t quite the venue” for the indie, punk, and glam bands she favoured. She left by late June, and would go on to perform in numerous bands, assist Dan Burke in bookings at both Club Shanghai and, later, the El Mocambo, and DJ at venues as varied as Bovine Sex Club, 56 Kensington, Mod Club, and CiRCA.

“I remember going to a meeting at We’ave where a very young, wide-eyed Leslie Feist was hired as a waitress,” Castelvi concludes. “I believe she did some booking after I left.”

By mid-July, We’ave officially re-launched. It would be another half year before the venue’s future became clear.

An early milk. party at We’ave. Photo courtesy of Izzy Shqueir.

Why it was important: Centrally located, simply decorated, and with three different levels (allowing it to feel busy with 100 people, but hold hundreds more), We’ave was a versatile, intimate space. Its low-ceilinged, dimly lit basement especially became an epicentre of creativity as some of this city’s most influential DJs and party producers of the late-’90s-to-early-2000s learned to stretch their imaginations there.

People entered We’ave through this basement. The walls were largely painted blue. One featured a colourful mural. A long, narrow hallway led to the main room, with a small bar on the right, DJ area on the left, and sizable rectangular dancefloor in the middle. There were small booths for seating, both by the room’s front window and along two walls near the dancefloor. DJs played while tucked under the stairwell that led to the second floor, which had a similar layout, but was not always open. Both floors had small, raised stages, and featured artwork that changed frequently.

“We’ave was quaint and cool at the same time,” says Amanda Lachapelle a.k.a. DJ/producer Freedom, one of the founders of Chicks Dig It, a Monday event that boasted a roster of female talent.

Chicks Dig It, which would come to epitomize the We’ave’s community vibe and wide-open music policy, grew out of a weekly that Lauren Speers, a.k.a. DJ Chocolate, had started with fellow bass-loving DJs Jarkko and Sugar Daddy Moth in late 1997. At the time, there were no other DJ residencies at We’ave.

“I played a party there, and the managers—Jack and Diana [Editor’s note: no surnames for either are known]—and I hit it off,” explains Speers. “They offered me Mondays because they had no one coming in during the week.”

Speers developed the idea of Chicks Dig It, and launched it in February 1998 with DJs Freedom and Liz. All three women had a deep love of drum ‘n’ bass, with Lachapelle leaning toward Moving Shadow-style breakbeats while Speers mixed ragga jungle with reggae, dub, and hip-hop. D.R.S. and Kenny Ken’s “Everyman,” DJ Rap’s “Intelligent Woman,” and “Wings of the Morning,” by Capleton and Method Man were among her playlist staples.

As the crowds attending We’ave’s friendly and free Mondays started to swell, so too did the Chicks Dig It roster.

“We began with a small group, and as time went on more female DJs started their careers, and joined in,” recalls Lachapelle. “It was a great community.”

Soon, Purnnita Kotecha a.k.a. Lady P, linked with the crew. Following her were DJs like Dalia and Venus (hip-hop heads and co-hosts of CHRY’s Best Kept Secret) and electronic-music lovers like Zuzana Grimm, LeeLee Mishi, Onastic, Siren, and Violet. Still more DJs joined over time, including Abi Roach a.k.a. Zeal, Wasabi, Panda, Switch, Amtrak, and myself. When We’ave’s second floor was renovated and Chicks Dig It Large was launched to cover both spaces, more house, hip-hop, drum ‘n’ bass and techno was added as Ray Prasad, Jocelyn D, Kalmplex, KLC, and other women rotated through.

“It was a place to play without being judged, and a place for many to get better as well,” says Lachapelle. “I loved having so much support, and a space to let loose and practice, and to play new tracks of our own. It was a great open forum, and people in the scene respected that. I am pretty sure we inspired a few girls out there!”

Chicks Dig It was given a further boost when Freedom and Chocolate were featured in a special about Toronto drum ‘n’ bass that aired on The NewMusic in 1998. (Their segment begins at 6:50 in the video below.)

1998 segment on The NewMusic devoted to Toronto drum ‘n’ bass, including footage from Chicks Dig It (at 6:50).

While Chicks Dig It anchored Mondays at We’ave, a DJ crew devoted to deep house and techno held down Fridays. Tyler Kerr, Mike Welker a.k.a. Blotto, Michael Markus, Bryan Hamilton a.k.a. Bryan Falling, and Ray Gillespie a.k.a. Lazy Ray were the men behind Mettle.

They had done a few parties at nearby venue The Lemon Drop in the summer of ‘97, but it wasn’t the right fit.

“When we first saw the basement at We’ave, we all fell in love,” gushes Gillespie. “That dark little room with a great dancefloor was perfect for our music.”

Mettle kicked off at We’ave in January of 1998, promoted with the help of Hamilton’s sophisticated flyer-design work and a network of friends, including Zuzana Grimm, who also worked the door.

Mettle flyer designed by Bryan ‘Falling’ Hamilton. Courtesy of him.

Between the five residents, a wide spectrum of deep, funky house, and techno was covered. They played everything from French to Chicago house, the dub-techno released on German labels Basic Channel and Chain Reaction, and the hypnotic tech-house of Sweden’s Svek imprint.

Detroit producers were the biggest shared influence among Mettle DJs however, especially Kenny Dixon Jr. a.k.a. Moodyman.

“I’d say that his style touched on everything we did,” says Gillespie. “Moodyman was our guy for sure, and the other guys in that school—Rick Wilhite, Rick Wade. Theo Parrish—we loved them.” (He points to Paperclip People’s “Throw,” “Your Love” by Rick Wade, “January” by Kenny Dixon Jr., Rick Wilhite’s Godson EP, and “I Can’t Kick This Feeling When It Hits” by Moodyman as examples.)

But it wasn’t just Mettle’s selections that filled We’ave’s basement with hundreds of “nerdy techno guys, ravers, indie kids, and b-boys,” as Gillespie puts it; it was also the sound system through which they were heard.

We’ave’s own system was good (though DJs did have to cart in their own turntables and mixer for well over a year), but with the added speakers Mettle bought by not paying themselves, sound fully enveloped partygoers.

“We knew if we split our $5 cover five ways, we wouldn’t be walking away with much cash, so we decided we’d save all the money to re-invest,” Gillespie explains. “Very quickly, we were able to buy a pair of the big Cerwin Vega bass bins. They still have the deepest, most visceral bass I’ve heard.

“We wheeled them out Friday night to add to We’ave’s sound, which was already decent. The combo of playing well-produced 12-inches in that basement with those bins was magical. The room sounded amazing. The only lighting we had was a disco ball—just really dark, with those spinning dots.”

“It was hot and tight,” describes Hamilton, “The music pounded the crowd, and everyone got down. I did the most serious dancing of my life in that little box.”

Mettle at We’ave. Flyers designed by Bryan ‘Falling’ Hamilton. Courtesy of Tyler Kerr.

Adds Kerr, “This combination of having superior sound, both on the dancefloor and in the DJ booth, coupled with the deep vibe we conveyed, made a lot of DJs who would normally play in big venues—where they’d have to cater to a clubby crowd—ask to play their deeper records at Mettle for an appreciative crowd.”

Local favourites like Algorithm, Adam Marshall, Brennan Green, Eric Downer, Nick Holder, and Kenny Glasgow were among Mettle’s guests. When the second floor of We’ave was opened, Mettle ran on both levels and could afford to book out-of-towners, including their Detroit hero Rick Wade, and Germany’s Stefan Betke a.k.a. Pole, along with Scion and others connected to Betke’s Chain Reaction label.

“We were definitely known as music purists, or snobs even, and I think that We’ave had that reputation, too—a place that was music first,” states Gillespie. “It seemed like we were DJing for other DJs, and music producers, a lot.

“Dance music is so huge now it’s probably hard for a young reader to imagine how small that scene was back then. Everybody knew each other. There definitely was a community, and we could feel it on a weekly basis.”

“It was a unique period of time,” agrees Kerr. “Any given Friday, there were countless DJs and promoters there, and a lot of collaborations were born. We produced nights with Speed, Ritual, RNB, Fukhouse, Alien Visitation and milk., just to name a few.”

Mettle’s Tyler Kerr (left) with friend Terra Noble. Photo courtesy of Kerr.

Leanne Beer (left), Bronwyn Addico and Alex Bowes at Mettle. Photo courtesy of Tyler Kerr.

The milk. men, in fact, also started to produce events at We’ave in early 1998. Original partners including Izzy Shqueir, Richard Lo and Matthew Eastman, along with resident DJs Felix Bianchini and Gani Shqueir, had launched milk. at Kensington sports bar Top o’ the Market, which they quickly outgrew.

In their new venue, milk. wanted a space “untarnished by an association with any pre-existing scene,” says Izzy. “We’ave was perfect. It was ideally located, across from the forever-cool AGO, and just far enough north from the club scene on Richmond that we could draw people looking for a cool alternative.

“We loved the three-storey layout. The main floor had a glass ceiling on the back half if I’m not mistaken, which felt nice as you’d introduce a little moonlight into the party. There was also a smaller third floor that we used on occasion.”

With their eye-catching black and white promotion, and a focus on underground sounds that included funk, disco, house, hip-hop, and jazzy drum ‘n’ bass, the monthly parties held wide appeal.

milk. flyer front courtesy of Izzy Shqueir.

milk. flyer back courtesy of Izzy Shqueir.

“We were our market, and we didn’t dig the glammed-up club scene or the tweaked-out rave scene. Milk. was a relaxed alternative to every scene that took themselves too seriously.”

Milk. booked guest DJs including Mike Tull, Alvaro C., Jason Palma, and John Kong—the latter two of whom were also part of the similarly minded Movement crew, then producing parties at The Rivoli. No matter who was on the decks at milk., they had free rein.

Felix (left), Izzy, Gani, and Jason Palma. Photo courtesy of Izzy Shqueir.

“Guest DJs we booked were like, ’WTF? I can play this stuff?’ and we were like, ‘For sure, that’s why we hired you,’” says Gani Shqueir. “We were also surprised to see people dancing to tracks that they didn’t know.”

Milk.’s loyal core crowd included lots of U of T students and “music lovers from all walks of life,” according to Izzy. “Among the most eccentric was a guy named Agent Dan, and photographer Eddie Figueroa.”

Artist Eddie Figueroa at milk. Photo courtesy of Izzy Shqueir.

milk. dancefloor action at We’ave. Photo courtesy of Izzy Shqueir.

“I know I felt impressed with what we were doing,” comments Gani in relation to the many hundreds of sweaty dancers that milk. attracted. “I liked being in the positive environment that it was, with everyone having a good time on a budget, and giving it.”

“We’ave wasn’t a see-and-be-seen club,” remarks Chicks Dig It’s Speers. “Most people went there for the music. The walk-by traffic was diverse and eclectic, and the nights held there had random people standing outside. A lot of people who became regulars didn’t intend to go there the first time, but got roped in either by the smoke outside or the music wafting up to the sidewalk.

“Us, Mettle, and milk. were the mainstays. Some of the Mettle guys and I were almost always at each other’s nights. We were linked by other diverse promoters and music folk who came to many of our nights, like Justin from AlienInFlux, Bev and Ian from Transcendance, the Promise guys, DJ Medicine Muffin, and the guys in [dub band] Resinators.”

We’ave was a relaxed hangout and hub, where ideas and communities could intersect. Sprinkled among the Chicks Dig It crowd any given Monday, for example, were members of Sumkidz, organizers of the influential OM Festival, future members of indie band Broken Social Scene, visiting musicians like Kid Koala, Mad Professor, and Ani Difranco, along with early Toronto Raptors stars such as Damon Stoudamire and Tracy McGrady. It was a fun, family affair where anything could happen.

“One of my birthday nights, someone baked me a cake that was, um, doctored,” recalls Speers. “I realized that after it had been handed out to everyone who was there. Not only did Purnita’s then-husband Richard have an extremely adverse reaction to it, so did an undercover cop who never realized what he had consumed. He left singing “Auld Lang Syne” with his colleagues, and threw up all over my bike, which was parked outside.”

On occasion, Chicks Dig It became Chicks Drag It, with guys like Lex from Legion of Green Men, Jarkko, Sugar Daddy Moth, and even members of UK ragga-jungle crew Congo Natty DJing in drag.

Though he didn’t spin in drag, Ninja Tune artist Amon Tobin created quite the scene when he guested at Chicks Dig It in February 2000. Initially, Hot Stepper Productions had simply booked in an early eve listening party for Tobin’s outstanding album Supermodified, but when word got out last minute that the producer would also DJ, the line-up outside We’ave extended past McCaul by 9 p.m. that night.

Amon Tobin at We’ave. Flyer courtesy of Carlos Mondesir.

This was a transitional, and incredibly fertile, time in Toronto’s underground club culture. Our rave movement may have peaked, but it had given rise to new generations of DJs, producers, community-radio hosts, fashion, and graphic designers, event promoters and multimedia artists. Many maturing ravers turned to more intimate venues, like Gypsy Co-op, N.A.S.A, and Element for their music fix.

We’ave was perhaps the most understated and capricious of all, but almost always stimulating when its doors were open.

“Chicks Dig It really put We’ave on the map,” says radio host and event producer Paddy Jane, who bartended at the venue from 1998 to 2000. “You’d rarely see female DJs on any lineup, so to have a whole night rammed with supreme DJ talent that was all female was game-changing. Monday nights were rammed, as were the We’ave’s Saturday night.

“The milk. parties were amazing too; their flyers were so distinct and special; people would come in out of curiousity, and get blown away by the gorgeous music. Rhymestone, a hip-hop/soul outfit that mixed rap with soulful female vocals and brass instruments, put on sick live shows. DJ Mantis and C-Rat threw some killer jungle and breaks nights that set the roof on fire, too. People would crowd-surf and body slam like it was a rock concert.

“We’ave was a hub for new, independent promoters,” adds Paddy Jane, who also hosted a number of arts and music programs on York University radio station CHRY while working at the club. “With no rental fees or deposits, and an open-minded manager, a lot of the best promoters and DJs in the city got their start there.”

Milk. is the prime example. They outgrew the space, and did their last party at We’ave in June of 1998. Milk. went on to produce parties at larger venues like Jet (later Turbo), Big Bop, Roxy Blu, Palais Royale, Kool Haus, 99 Sudbury, and Sunnyside Pavilion.

“We’ave gave a home to the blossoming DJ scene in the late ‘90s,” summarizes Izzy. “Without it, I can say that milk. may not have carried on for the decade afterward.” (He is now a mortgage agent at Dominion Lending while Gani is largely responsible for all things milk., and is co-owner of Dundas West bar Camp 4.)

The Mettle DJs also left We’ave, in their case to move to the slightly larger B-Side, above Fez Batik, in the fall of 1999. They did a weekly there for a year, and co-presented larger shows featuring the likes of Richie Hawtin elsewhere. Mettle concluded as a crew in September 2000. (They all remain friends, with Gillespie a.k.a. Lazy Ray most active as a DJ today. Hamilton works in the New York office of Razorfish digital agency, and lives with his wife and two children in New Jersey.)

With the departures of milk. and Mettle, We’ave’s management had big shoes to fill. Some weeks, the club would be open just two nights, while others would have a packed schedule. There were other weeklies on the roster alongside Chicks Dig It (more on this to come), and countless special events.

“If you had an idea, I’d say, ‘Talk to Jack,’ explains Paddy Jane. “He was always there—it was as though he slept in the ceilings like a bat. If he liked your idea, he’d give you a night to try it out. He didn’t really care what happened in the space, as long as people showed up and had a great time.”

Dan Snaith prepping decorations for Social Work. Photo: Merri Schwartz.

One crew of nascent DJ/promoters Jack did give a chance to included then-20-year-old Dan Snaith, now better known as Caribou. He’d moved from Dundas to Toronto in order to study mathematics at U of T, and remained tight friends with others from the Hamilton area. Snaith and his roommates threw a bunch of packed parties at their home on Beverley, and wanted to take the concept to a club. In the fall of 1999, they heard that We’ave, conveniently located around the corner, was looking for DJs.

“We went in, talked to the managers, and they seemed almost as desperate to get someone in there as we were to play,” reminisces Snaith by email.

The fact that We’ave had multiple levels was attractive to the crew of many DJs, which also included Koushik, Jon Sikich, Cory Cook, Greg Jones, and Peter Mitton a.k.a. plastic/brasil. The flyers for their party, dubbed Social Work, advertised a night of funk, house, Latin, jazz, dub, drum ‘n’ bass, hip-hop and more.

Early Social Work flyer (front). Courtesy of Dan Snaith.

Early Social Work flyer (back). Courtesy of Dan Snaith.

“I remember playing Rotary Connection, Marlena Shaw, Quasimoto—music that I would still play now—and also more of the jazzy broken beat and Compost Records-type stuff,” recalls Snaith.

Their first event included guest DJ Jason Palma, plus a lot of production and promotional assistance from pals.

“The core thing was to play the music that we liked, but also important was to have all of our friends who were studying art and interested in making the events nice involved to do their thing,” says Snaith. “The decor [at We’ave] was pretty corny—sort of a ‘you’re inside a lava lamp’ type vibe. We did as much as we could to project our own space on the place.

“Merri Schwartz masterminded all of the decoration, and played a large part in everything. A lot of the preparations involved buying massive quantities of fabric, and covering the place with it. Once we made hundreds of large origami cranes in different colours, and hung them from the ceiling. Another time, we had hundreds of Ziploc bags full of water, with waterproof LEDs inside them, hanging from the roof.”

Merri Schwartz decorating for Social Work. Photo courtesy of Dan Snaith.

Five hundred people turned out for the debut event, and the attendance climbed from there. Social Work parties were sporadic, but busy.

“It was a thrill to be doing something for the first time,” says Snaith. “We were completely unknown DJs who didn’t play anywhere else, except for Jon Sikich and Koushik. People just came because the parties had a reputation for being fun rather than for any name on the bill.”

At one event, more than 800 people squeezed in.

“It was really stupid and terrifying,” Snaith admits. “People were just crushed in there, and we were so disorganized. There was no plan about when to stop, and we couldn’t even communicate with each other because it was impossible to move around the venue. The people who worked the coat check, located on the top floor, looked like they were about to have nervous breakdowns. That was when I realized that more people didn’t actually make the party better!”

Scenes from Social Work. Photos courtesy of Merri Schwartz.

They tried moving Social Work to a larger space on Spadina, but the crowds didn’t follow so they instead returned to We’ave.

By spring of 2000, Snaith was deep into music production and was ready to share his creations. (We first met during this time as he passed along demo tracks for me to play on Mental Chatter, my program on CKLN.)

“By that point, I’d met Kieran Hebden [a.k.a. Four Tet], and had mailed him a couple of tracks so he knew I was into the same kind of vibe,” says Snaith. “We flew him over for what was, I think, one of the first DJ gigs Kieran had ever taken outside London. We paid his flight, there was no fee, and he slept on our couch. We had our home phone number on the flyer, and the only person who ever called was Kevin [Drew] from Broken Social Scene, demanding to know if it was a joke that Kieran was playing at our unknown little party.

“The twist was that we expected Kieran to play artists like Dorothy Ashby and Pharoah Sanders, and clear the floor. Instead, he showed up with banging tunes; he played ‘Intergalactic’ by the Beastie Boys, and had had the newest Armand Van Helden test pressing couriered to his flat in London before he left. Rightly, he figured that we were basically a party for university students, and brought his biggest party records. That really challenged what I valued in music. Up until that point, I valued the esoteric and the difficult—I was a snobby elitist, basically—and getting to know Kieran was a big part of me coming to understand that pop music can be amazing, and radical and subversive as well at its best.

“After that, We’ave offered us a residency because we were bringing in bigger crowds than any other party, but that turned out to be a disastrous idea. No one wanted to come to a weekly event; they wanted the special one-offs. It was a very sad and soul-destroying affair that we stopped after a couple months.”

Flyer for Kieran Hebden (Four Tet) at Social Work. Flyer: Courtesy of Dan Snaith.

Who else played/worked there: There was a lot of quality house and techno heard at We’ave over the years. Promoter James Lafazanos produced a number of events under his Phox Productions banner early in the club’s history. DJ/producer Tricky Moreira was resident on Tuesdays for a stretch of 1998.

But the longest-running night of deep house and tech at We’ave was Housecall, with the heavy-hitting resident crew of Christian Newhook (now known as Dinamo Azari), Ali Black, DJ Gryphon, and Douglas Carter. They, along with guests including DJ Sneak, J-Dub, Dino & Terry, Andy Roberts, and Groove Institute, drew crowds every Thursday from 1997 to late ’99.

Though he did lights at Industry, DJed at Gypsy Co-op, and could generally be found networking at every quality club in town during this period, Housecall was an especially important step in Newhook’s career. It was here that he performed some of his earliest hybrid DJ/live shows, and explore ideas he’d later develop with Azari & III.

Jungle, d ‘n’ b, and all manner of breakbeats were also common at We’ave. Moonstarr and the folks behind Public Transit Recordings held release parties there. Junglerama was a popular weekly, with DJs like Queensyze, Jahyu, D-Region, Panda, Double J and Dorc all taking part.

Mark Pryzbylo a.k.a. Dorc bridged worlds at We’ave. He DJed as part of both Junglerama and the hip-hop-centric Stir Fry nights (also with DJs Danimal, Zoli, and Kari), and was We’ave’s main sound man, beginning in late 1998. He also recalls performances by the likes of God Made Me Funky, Cryptic Souls, and D-Sisive. One of his strongest memories from the club is from November of that year, when Finland’s Pan Sonic performed their experimental electronics through a beefed-up sound system.

Junglerama at We’ave. Photos courtesy of Mark Pryzbylo a.k.a. Dorc.

“For that show, we basically turned the entire club into a giant speaker box,” says Pryzbylo. “I have never to this day heard that much bass. Everything in the club was rattling like crazy. People sat outside on the sidewalk feeling physically sick from their organs shaking. Amazing!” (Pryzbylo went on to DJ and do sound for hip-hop weekly In Divine Style, and is now a mastering engineer.)

We’ave was the kind of place where collaborations and new ideas flourished.

“There was a fun scene in that ’hood back then, where performance between DJ, live and performance art seemed naturally blurred,” comments Sam Fleming a.k.a. DJ Efsharp.

An OCAD grad who studied Integrated Media during the late ’90s and found himself at We’ave a lot, Fleming DJed there as part of Evren Ozdemir’s hip-hop band Rhymestone, occasionally did sound, and helped produce a series of all-floor parties. He also led a music project called Recipe.

“The vibe at We’ave definitely contributed to a feeling that we could do whatever we wanted,” credits Fleming. “Recipe was as few people as a DJ combo of and myself and James McClean a.k.a. Toye, or it could be a six-piece electronic outfit with drum machines and synths, or a funk-house jam-band collective.”

Fleming points to others who also explored their outer reaches at We’ave.

“I recall that Merrill Nisker came into Long and McQuade when I worked there, and asked about drum machines. I recommended the MC-505, and the next week she was at We’ave, doing her first show as Peaches.

Flyer for Wabi’s one-year anniversary, their first event at We’ave. Courtesy of Wabi crew.

“Tom Kuo and the wabi crew did some amazing parties there as well. There was one event where he put all these semi-transparent balloons in the ceiling and projected a bunch of images, which looked like echoes of ideas in someone’s brain. Now Tom is doing next level installations that must be experienced to believe.” (The wabi collective hosts occasional events to this day. Fleming continues to DJ, and runs event-production company Evolved Entertainment.)

The series of School parties produced by Rob Judges and Dave Gillespie during the first half of 2000 also offered a blend of music, media and visual art.

“We pulled out all the stops creatively,” says Judges, highlighting the “crazy, self-deprecating” flyers he created with Takashi Okamoto, among other artistic details. (Judges also created the flyers for Hot Times!, recently discussed in the Then & Now devoted to Club 56.)

The final School event at We’ave. Flyer courtesy of Rob Judges.

“Because We’ave’s windows looked out onto the AGO, I was like ‘This is as close as I’m gonna get,’ so I brought a bunch of the paintings I’d been doing at the time—mostly De Stijl-type stuff—and hung ‘em up. I was inspired. We brought extra lava lamps, and bed sheets for projections. We’d make tasteful super-8 loops of ’70s Swedish porn film reels that I found at home. There were a lot of artists getting to know each other in Toronto at the time; the U of T, Ryerson, and OCA peeps were mingling, and School was kind of in the middle of that.”

These elements, combined with the duo’s blend of Krautrock, French house, east coast hip-hop, classic rock, reggae and more (Judges cites favourites like Yellow Magic Orchestra’s version of “Day Tripper,” ”I Can’t Wait” by Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Junior Murvin’s “Roots Train,” Steely Dan’s “Do It Again,” and Neu’s “Fur Immer”) packed their parties from beginning to end. (In 2005, Judges moved to Tokyo, where he co-produces the monthly Hindu Love parties.)

As for other staff at We’ave, few other names are known. Bartenders included Kaili Glennon (who went on to Ronnie’s Local 069 in Kensington, among other places) and Guilherme Ribeiro, now a chef.

Paddy Jane still holds the venue close to her heart.

“Working at the We’ave was a blast! I never knew what I was going to see. From poetry to drum ‘n’ bass, the parties ran the spectrum. One time a guy showed up with a coffin and performed his entire set in it. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world to get paid to see experimental performance art, and a wide range of music come to life every night.”

Flyer courtesy of Sam “EfSharp” Fleming.

What happened to it: By late summer of 2000, business at We’ave had slowed substantially.

“I remember it closing and re-opening a couple of times,” says Snaith. “Jack and Diana definitely tried to get us to come back, but we’d moved on. Our little crew of people was all doing different things.” (Snaith released his debut album as Manitoba, Start Breaking My Heart, under his pre-Caribou alias of Manitoba in 2001 and has since produced five additional albums, including last year’s Jiaolong under his side-project name, Daphni. He’s now at work on a new Caribou album. Koushik has released music on Stone’s Throw while Peter Mitton went on to work as Manitoba/Caribou’s drummer from 2003-2005 and is now a CBC radio producer. Merri Schwartz is a top Vancouver pastry chef and chocolatier.)

The end of We’ave was in sight, but still came suddenly. Chicks Dig It had moved on to the Beat Junkie by early October, but no notice was given to staff when We’ave closed weeks later.

“One day I showed up for work, and the doors were locked, venue emptied, like it never even existed,” says Paddy Jane. “The only number I had for Jack was the We’ave’s, and with no last name—and before the time of Facebook, cellphone, and email’s omnipresence—he and the venue literally vanished into thin air. The end of We’ave is a mystery.” (Paddy went on to shoot pin-up photography and host radio programs, and she now produces parties and burlesque shows under the name No Pants Society.)

As for the Chicks Dig It founders, they took the party to a variety of locations before parting. Speers is now a mother and lawyer, but still finds the time to DJ at Thymeless, reggae shows galore, and on her Rebel Music radio show, heard on Radio Regent. Lachapelle produced music for Nice & Smooth, and mixed their Metro Breaks: NXT Level compilation. She is now a Homeopathic Practitioner and is studying massage therapy.

Barbi Castelvi, who we met at this story’s beginning, produced a great deal of music with her now-husband Mitchell Gomes a.k.a. Cryo. They recorded as Syntonics, but recently launched new project Phelyns Of Vedici. Castelvi also continues to DJ.

330 Dundas West re-opened as the Deconism Gallery by professor, EyeTap inventor, and “father of wearable computing” Steve Mann in 2001. Numerous conferences, concerts and events have taken place there since. In May of this year, as part of the Contact festival, No Cameras Allowed! was mounted. A poster promoting it remains on the venue’s door, with no sign of recent activity. Emails went unanswered.

330 Dundas West in mid December, 2013. Photo by Denise Benson.

Thank you to participants Amanda “DJ Freedom” Lachapelle, Barbi Castelvi, Bryan Falling, Christian Newhook, Dan Snaith, Gani Shqueir, Izzy Shqueir, Lauren “DJ Chocolate” Speers, Mark “Dorc” Pryzbylo, Paddy Jane, Raymond “Lazy Ray” Gillespie, Rob Judges, Sam “DJ Efsharp” Fleming, and Tyler Kerr as well as to Carlos Mondesir and Michael Markus.

The post Then & Now: We’ave appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published November 16, 2012 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

As the Mod Club Theatre turns 10, Then & Now explores the story of how a ‘60s-retro dance night came to spawn a world-class concert and DJ venue, transforming College Street in the process.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Mod Club Theatre, 722 College

Years in operation: 2002-present

History: To share the history of how The Mod Club Theatre came to be, one must first trace College Street’s evolution as a nightlife destination. The stretch of College running west of Bathurst to Dovercourt has, of course, long been a hub for Italian, Portuguese and Latino communities. Restaurants and cafés have dotted the strip for decades—with Café Diplomatico at College and Clinton serving as a landmark spot for over 40 years—but it wasn’t until the 1990s that people began to open a broader array of venues that would entertain into the wee hours.

El Convento Rico—originally a haven for Latin gays, lesbians and transgendered people—opened in 1992, bringing dancing and drag shows to College and Crawford. The early-to-mid ’90s also saw the opening of spots including Souz Dal, College Street Bar, Ted’s Collision, and Alex Lifeson’s live music venue The Orbit Room. Intimate café 52 Inc. fed, entertained and politicized on the other side of Bathurst from 1995-2000, while Bar Italia opened on College in 1996 and Ted Footman launched Ted’s Wrecking Yard and Barcode—two floors of live music in one building—in 1997.

Musician Dan Kurtz—formerly of The New Deal and currently of Dragonette—knows the area well.

“When I moved to Canada as a little kid, I lived at College and Bathurst, and spent most of my childhood in the neighborhood,” he says. “As an adult, I bought a house on Beatrice and renovated it, just a year or two before things really began to heat up on the strip. I did that a couple more times with houses in the neighborhood before I moved out and, during that time, College Street became the hottest place to hang out. It was a great mix of a really authentic, old-school and virtually unchanged Italian and Portuguese neighbourhood by day, and an increasingly broad mix of great and cheesy bars and restaurants at night.

“My friends, my band, and most of my family lived in the neighborhood at that time, and it was probably one of the best times of my life,” he adds. In the late ’90s, Kurtz performed at venues like Ted’s, Bar Italia, and Orbit Room while a member of bands including Que Vida.

“At the time, almost every show I played was memorable, since my bands were just coming up,” says Kurtz. “Getting a good gig on College was some measure of legitimacy.”

Lava Lounge, at 507 College just west of Palmerston, added much to the strip. Opened in September 1997 by former Rivoli staffers Greg Bottrell and Rob Eklove (with support from The Rivoli and Queen Mother Café owners Andre Rosenbaum and David Stearn), Lava Lounge was located in the former home of Portuguese family restaurant Cheers. Bottrell and crew transformed it into a resto-lounge, club, and patio licensed for 270 people, making Lava one of the largest spots on College at that time.

“College seemed like a cool up-and-coming area,” recalls Bottrell. “But when we first opened, there was not that much happening on the street. It hadn’t blossomed yet.”

Their timing was good, as the area soon exploded. Hip new spots dotted the landscape, with venues ranging from the super cool (Ciao Edie) to student-centric (Midtown) to pool halls (Clear Spot, later Andy Poolhall), all featuring DJs.

“The late 1990s to 2005 was College Street’s heyday,” says Bottrell, who also opened Asian fusion restaurant Tempo at College and Clinton in 2000. “It was the hip and happening restaurant, patio, and bar area in those years—along with a few clubs, Lava Lounge being one of them.”

Lava featured both live music and DJs from its start. Resident DJs included the likes of Fish Fry, Mike Tull and Tony Lanz, Shawn MacDonald, and John Kong, while Tuesdays were known for the live soul-jazz of Thomas Reynolds and Shugga, often accompanied by vocalist Divine Earth Essence (now Divine Brown).

Bobbi Guy (left) and Mark Holmes, circa 1999. Photo by Edward Pond.

In October of 1999, a new Wednesday weekly dubbed Mod Club launched at Lava Lounge. Helmed by friends and British expats Mark Holmes (also known as the vocalist in Platinum Blonde) and Bobbi Guy, the Mod Club nights were inspired by shared obsessions and, partly, the success of Davy Love’s Blow Up Saturdays, then held at The El Mocambo.

“I went to the U.K. with my friend Bobbi in 1999 and, on our way back to Toronto, we hatched this plan for something totally different than Blow Up,” says Holmes, at the beginning of a lengthy phone interview.

“So many bands, like Blur and Oasis, were talking about the influence of all these ’60s bands, and I thought that if people were interested in those bands, they might be interested in where the music came from. I was an absolute 1960s fanatic; I had VHS tapes of The Prisoner, The Avengers, The Saint, and I was crazy about the music, the clothing, everything. I just wished so heavily that I could transport myself back into that time.”

They did the next best thing. Guy designed the Mod Club logo, the pair promoted around town, and soon they were projecting 1960s British imagery while spinning deep collections of Motown, soul, R&B and mod bands in the similarly styled Lava Lounge.

The original Mod Club sign, outside Lava Lounge. Photo courtesy of Mark Holmes.

“Basically, you were in a time capsule the moment you walked in,” says Holmes. “I loved every last magical minute of it.

“Everybody came out dressed like the ’60s; all the guys had suits, all the girls had Vidal Sassoon haircuts. And then it just exploded. After a few Wednesdays, the lineup was down the street. I got my wish: every Wednesday, I got to go back into the ’60s.”

“That night was just a great scene,” agrees Bottrell. “People looked the part. They had scooters, Fred Perry, Ben Sherman. It was a good-looking, young, and—because it was mid-week—downtown crowd. The music with Mark and Bobbi was wicked. People danced their asses off.”

The scene inside Mod Club Wednesdays at Lava Lounge. Photo courtesy of Mark Holmes.

Mod Club packed Lava every Wednesday until the club was forced to close in spring of 2004. The building it was in would be torn down to make way for the huge  href=”http://condos.ca/condominiums/toronto-the-europa-308-palmerston-ave” target=”_blank”>Europa condo building of today.

“We’d signed a regular corporation lease, which had a ‘demolition clause’ in it,” Bottrell explains. “Back then, no one would have predicted that such a condo boom was on the horizon. Also, no one would have guessed that people would demolish a more than one-hundred-year-old building that took up most of a city block to build a bigger and brand new condo.”

By fall of 2004, Bottrell opened Supermarket in Kensington Market. Guy and Holmes continued there for many months of soul-soaked Mod Club Wednesdays.

“I remember one night at Supermarket, Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams were in and requested some slow music,” begins Guy. “We obliged, and the whole bar looked on as they re-enacted The Notebook on the dancefloor. We played about six slow songs while they just made out, without a care in the world. Another night there, a guy came into the booth with a weird accent and complimented me on my Hammond groove set, then looked through my CDs. I gave him some tickets to go get us drinks, and watched as he lined up for 10 minutes at the bar. He returned, and then introduced himself as Tiesto. Nice bloke.”

The first Mod Club go-go dancers at Revival. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

But the Mod Club story also takes us back to College Street, and mirrors its growth. In November 2001, while still holding down Wednesdays at Lava, Guy and Holmes also launched a Saturday Mod Club weekly at newly opened Revival Bar.

Opened by Domenic Tedesco and chef-turned-restaurateur Joe Saturnino, Revival is housed in a beautiful building at the corner of College and Shaw that was once a Baptist church, and later a Polish legion hall. Having been a partner in Italian fine-dining restaurant Veni, Vidi, Vici, which also attracted a later night crowd, Saturnino saw the writing on the wall.

“College Street had always been vibrant,” he says. “But Revival opened at a time when a new adult crowd was taking over. It was a young professional crowd looking for new places to go to.”

Revival gave that crowd food, DJs, and live music. Mod Club Saturdays attracted thousands to College Street and packed Revival for three years.

DJs DaSilva and Benny K. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

Guy and Holmes spent Saturday afternoons putting up banners, sorting décor, and tweaking sound in anticipation of their capacity crowds. There were mod go-go dancers, confetti cannons, big lighting effects, and live acts that included both locals and touring artists like The Dandy Warhols, who performed an acoustic set.

“My main focus was to discover new music and also go around finding bands to play on our Saturday nights in front of a full house,” describes Guy. “That gave me the most pleasure, giving young bands an opportunity to play on such a stage.”

“We made it into a massive rock show,” says Holmes, who DJed alongside Guy and a cast of characters including Boozecan Bob, Taylor & Gedge, Benny K, DJ Da Silva, and Jesse F. Keeler.

“Upstairs on Saturdays, there was a more modern sound comprised of Britpop, and the newly emerging electro sounds coming out of the U.K.,” recalls Guy. “For the diehards, there was ’60s soul and Hammond groove in the basement.”

Guy and Holmes at Revival. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

“I think in Mark and Bobbi’s minds, the basement was going to be the part that was more like the Wednesdays, and I know I certainly broke that rule, but within context,” chuckles Jesse F. Keeler during a phone chat. “I’d start playing ska, dub, and old reggae in the last hour.

“People wanted to be challenged,” adds Keeler, who’d also been a regular attendee at the Mod Club Wednesdays. “I had a lot of people come up and say, ‘I had no idea that that rap song was a sample until you played that song.’ It was a fun sample school to run for people.”

Keeler was a resident until the band he was most heavily involved in at the time—Death From Above 1979—began to tour regularly and he missed a month of Saturdays. “I walked in one night, ready to go, and there were new guys I’d never seen before in the basement.”

By this time, the Mod Club weeklies were a phenomenon that would soon spawn a now internationally recognized club and concert venue.

Guy and Holmes DJ the opening night of the Mod Club Theatre, November 2002. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

The birth of the Mod Club Theatre: In early 2002, Revival was closed for two weeks because of a liquor-licence infraction.

“We took our scheduled shows across the street, to Corner Pocket,” says Revival’s Saturnino of the pool hall that operated out of 722 College at the time. “Dom and I showed Bruno Sinopoli how to transform his place into a club.”

“It had been a club, and before that it had been some kind of theatre, with the stage and everything,” says Holmes of the space. “I walked around upstairs and thought it was amazing, like in that scene from Quadrophenia when the guy jumped off the balcony into the crowd. It was a beautiful place, but just so gross inside at the time.”

The Mod Club nights would go on to pack both venues on Saturdays for years, with DJs and dancers darting back-and-forth across the street from Corner Pocket to Revival.

Early into their run at both venues, Holmes was inspired.

“I got to thinking that the reason people were going to Lava on Wednesdays and Saturdays at Revival was for Mod Club so I said, ‘What would it be like if I had a place that is The Mod Club? What would it take?’

“A little while later, I made a deal with [Corner Pocket owner] Bruno, put all my money in, and designed the whole place on my laptop. I gave that to the builders, and we built The Mod Club Theatre. People were worried that it would be such a gamble, but I felt I had to keep moving forward.”

Bobbi Guy, boxer Lennox Lewis, and Mark Holmes on opening night. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

The Mod Club Theatre officially opened doors in November 2002. Bobbi Guy recalls a fave moment from the first night.

“[British-Canadian world heavyweight boxing champion] Lennox Lewis had been invited, and came with his entourage of large humans. I knew he was a West Ham United fan so we started talking about some old faces we both knew back in London. We ended up singing West Ham songs arm in arm, much to the bemusement of his troops.”

Why it’s important: “I think, mainly, we gave club-goers a different option from what was happening elsewhere in the city,” says Guy, a main Saturday resident DJ until early 2010. “People were weary of going to the club district for a good night out. We were in a lot safer area, but were just as deadly on the dancefloor. College Street was a quiet place till we showed up; now look at it.

As for the venue itself, Mod Club Theatre brought a professional 700-capacity club and concert space to College Street.

“It raised the bar for sound and lighting,” states Holmes. “I wanted a place where you could see bands in a beautiful surrounding, with fantastic lights and sound, and where you could sit down without getting chewing gum stuck to the seat of your trousers.”

Early on, films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey screened, but Mod Club Saturdays remained the main draw. Fridays were initially launched as glam night Velvet Goldmine, with Joan Jett flown in to guest DJ at the opening. Crystal Castles’ Ethan Kath was a Friday resident DJ, back in the days when he still answered to “Claudio.”

Holmes also worked to establish Mod Club Theatre as a concert spot, reaching out to event producers including Against The Grain (now Collective Concerts). After Muse performed at the club on a Saturday in April 2004, concert bookings poured in. Area restaurants, like neighbours Il Gatto Nero, benefited from the business.

Muse’s Matt Bellamy gets acquainted with the Mod Club’s bar. Photo by Trevor Roberts

Above all, Mod Club Theatre is highly versatile as a venue.

“Mod Club is fantastic from a technical perspective, with amazing sound, production, and sight lines,” says Adam Gill, founder of event production company Embrace. “It’s an amazing live/concert room, but also works great for DJ/electronic-type events.”

“The first time I went to Mod Club Theatre was on a Saturday,” recalls DJ/producer and A.D/D Events co-founder Mario Jukica. “Mark really blew me away with the level of production he was doing, creating an exciting atmosphere that relied heavily on the use of video technology and pyrotechnics.

“I was impressed as it felt a bit like a concert. The tech team, led by Mark Prinsloo, had the ability to set the stage for a live band and tear down within minutes, then set up a DJ platform centre stage. This gave me a lot of ideas, and made me really want to work with them.”

It’s this very versatility—and group of people—that made Mod Club Theatre one of the global hubs for the merger of rock and electro.

From 2003 to 2007, Holmes a.k.a. DJ MRK, programmed and played the highly rated Mod Club radio show, broadcast live on 102.1 The Edge, Thursdays from 11 p.m. to 2 a.m. Guy also introduced three new tracks each week.

“That’s when the music scene really changed,” says Holmes; “It’s when the whole indie band mixed with electronic music idea moved forward. Necessity is the mother of invention. We were – Bobbi especially – very much in contact with a lot of British DJs who would send him stuff. I had an idea to bring the indie crowd and the dance crowd in to the same place, and I worked on that with quite a few people. That’s how the radio show got started. Then A.D/D came in after that and started solidifying that whole vibe. Then the whole scene exploded.

“Obviously that happened all over the world, but when I think back to the radio shows, we had to make our own music. We bootlegged indie tracks and mixed them with electronic music. It was great because people at The Edge started getting requests for songs they’d never heard of and never playlisted. I had control of the music for the live-to-air because I was the DJ. It was like witnessing the birth of a new scene.”

Toronto’s Crystal Castles and MSTRKRFT both formed during this time period, and both played the live-to-air with Holmes.

MSTRKRFT backstage at the Mod Club Theatre. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

“That’s how I reconnected with Mark,” says Keeler, the Mod Club-at-Revival resident DJ who’d become half of MSTRKRFT. “I found out he was playing and championing music from both MSTRKRFT and Death From Above. At one point, he asked if I wanted to DJ the live-to-air. I pulled no punches that night. It was MSTRKRFT, and we played the same way we would have in England or anywhere else in the world at the time.”

“Mark took a lot of chances with the music he played through such a commercial medium as 102.1,” confirms Jukica. “Hearing artists like LCD Soundsystem and Mylo on the radio was refreshing. It definitely helped expose the music we were championing at our parties.”

By late 2004, Jukica and Eve Fiorillo were producing parties under the banner of A.D/D at Mod Club Theatre. They booked local DJs including Barbi and Rory Them Finest, and presented themed events like Return To New York, with Arthur Baker, and I Love Neon, with guests including Tiga. A.D/D also had tight ties with influential French electronic label Ed Banger, presenting many of their artists, including at the infamous Daft Punk afterparty of August 2007.

“That was, for sure, our highlight at that venue,” says Jukica, who also DJs as Milano. “Seeing them at the party unmasked until the bitter end, when the club was empty, was special. All the Ed Banger related events had an incredible energy level.”

A.D/D would later take their bookings and colourful, post-raver crowd to CiRCA for their Randomland Fridays, but when that concluded in summer 2009, Adam Gill and Embrace stepped in to fill the void by presenting the musically related Arcade Fridays at Mod Club Theatre.

Arcade Fridays crowd. Photo by James Drobik.

Over Arcade’s two-plus-years, Embrace highlighted locals like Milano, Meech, Poupon, Gingy and Bordello, Andy Ares, St. Mandrew, DJ Medley and Auto Erotique while also presenting weekly international guests. That impressive roster of names includes Simian Mobile Disco, Claude Von Stroke, Zedd, Laidback Luke, Rusko, Toddla T, and Trentemoller, who presented a most incredible live band show in April 2011.

“Arcade had a great run, and there were so many good nights, but Benga was a special one,” recalls Gill. “It was when dubstep was still a very new and fresh sound, and was a very cool night of music. Wolfgang Gartner was insane; the place went absolutely nuts for him. Fake Blood on our one-year anniversary might have been the best night there though. People went crazy.”

Keeler—who has DJed Mod Club multiple times as part of MSTRKRFT—has another favourite from the venue’s Friday night history.

“I really liked when Vitalic played there live—both times, but the first one was really special. The crowd was really receptive for someone like Vitalic, who doesn’t fit in a box real easy. He’s not a pop guy by any means, but it was just rammed. For a while, Fridays had such a dedicated crowd that seemed to really enjoy a big spectrum. The first time I saw Torro Torro play was there, and I was super impressed.”

Amy Winehouse (centre) with husband Blake Fielder-Civil and Mark Holmes, backstage in 2007. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

Who else has played/worked there: “Mod Club Theatre was the Cadillac of gigs on the College strip, and it was the best-sounding room to play, too—in no small part due to Mark Prinsloo and his good ears,” says Dan Kurtz. “The first New Deal and Dragonette shows there felt like big deals.”

The New Deal, in fact, staged their high profile 2009 CD release show at the club, and Dragonette has chosen to perform there multiple times.

“I feel that with Dragonette in particular, we kind of became legit at our shows at the Mod Club Theatre, at least as performers. We liked how we sounded, and how our shows looked. It felt, I suppose, big.

“It was also the first place I ever DJed at, which was terrifying, but we [Kurtz and Dragonette drummer Joel Stouffer] drank our entire rider before we started, so we felt pretty awesome about 15 seconds into it. I also saw a Feist show there that I just loved. It was a perfect venue for her intimate style of performance.”

The list of artists who’ve performed at Mod Club Theatre is both impressive and enormous. For electronic music fans, live shows by both Booka Shade and Modeselektor are highly memorable. Amy Winehouse performed two heartrending sold-out shows in May of 2007. K’naan launched his Troubadour CD there in 2009, while The Weeknd made its live debut on the same stage in 2011. And, of course, dozens of British acts of all musical stripes—from Paul Weller to Kaiser Chiefs to Mike Skinner—have headlined.

Embrace, Collective Concerts, Live Nation, and other concert promoters continue to book in shows, making Mod Club’s listings ones to watch.

And when it comes to staff, longtime manager Jorge Dias is another frequently credited principal player; he, Prinsloo, and Bruno Sinopoli were also the key figures behind the transformation of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre.

“The Mod Club staff is amazing,” Jukica summarizes. “They buzzed really hard on the nights of our shows, and were a major reason for the electric vibe in the room.”

Mark Holmes with Mike Skinner a.k.a. The Streets. Photo by Trevor Roberts.

The here & now: The venue now technically known as Virgin Mobile Mod Club, thanks to a 2011 sponsorship deal, celebrates a decade in business this weekend. Many credit the club’s success largely to Holmes.

“Mark has vision, and he succeeds at doing things right,” says Bottrell, who continues to happily operate Supermarket. “He has an artist’s eye for detail, and he sure is bang-on with wanting the best in lighting, sound, and visuals.”

“There’s not a lot of spaces that are made that intelligently, or places where people care that much about sound—despite what they might tell you,” agrees Keeler, who spoke while on a break from working on a new Death From Above 1979 album that’s nearing completion. “Everything I’ve ever seen at Mod Club has sounded great. I’m always impressed by that.”

Saturday night at The Mod Club Theatre. Photo Trevor Roberts.

As for Saturnino, he appreciates the ties between his venue and Mod Club.

“Both places have different identities,” he says, pointing to Revival’s blend of burlesque, bands, and soul and house-heavy sounds.

“Having another [sizable] club has given people more choices, and helped make our entire area better for business.”

“That such a residential neighbourhood, with small neighbourhood shops, could also have such a first-class venue, with world-class artists playing there on a weekly basis, makes that part of Toronto truly fantastic,” concurs Kurtz.

Mod Club’s 10th anniversary party this Saturday (Nov. 17) features guests including Dr. Draw and DJ Jelo, alongside current U.K. Underground Saturday residents MRK and Tigerblood. The Saturday sounds may have changed over the years, but the song remains the same.

“The Mod Club means ‘modernist’ and to be a modernist, one must embrace the future, embrace technology, and search for and present the new all the time,” says Holmes, now also busy with the recently reformed Platinum Blonde.

“The times change, and the scenes change. We still spin some Britpop tracks and the crowd loves them, but it’s 10 years later, and it’s different music. Now it’s other kids’ time to make their history, their time capsule.”

Thank you to Adam Gill, Bobbi Guy, Dan Kurtz, Greg Bottrell, Jesse Keeler, Joe Saturnino, Mario Jukica and Mark Holmes.

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

Article originally published January 4, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In the latest instalment of her nightlife-history series, Denise Benson takes us back to College Street in the mid-90s, when a female-friendly hotbed for arts and culture opened up just as Little Italy was beginning to explode.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: 52 inc., 394 College Street

Years in operation: 1995 — 2000

History: On August 2nd 1995, two 23-year-old friends—Kate Cassidy and Amy Katz—opened a community-minded café, bar and boutique just one block away from their shared rental apartment at College and Borden. 52 inc., named as a nod to women forming fifty-two percent of the global population, was a complementary addition to a neighbourhood filled with diverse independent businesses.

By then, College Street west of Bathurst was beginning to explode with trendy lounges, restaurants and shops opened alongside Little Italy mainstays. But it was a different story for the strip of College that lies north of Kensington Market.

“It was a gritty stretch that was complete with small businesses: grocers, salsa clubs, a few clothing shops and some very busy diners, many of whom had been there a very long time,” recalls Cassidy. “There was nothing slick or ‘happening;’ it was just people going about their daily business. We wedged ourselves into that stretch and loved being a part of it.”

“We did all of our shopping for the bar on the block or in Kensington Market, and rarely needed to leave the neighbourhood for anything,” says Katz. “We were both working in restaurants, learned a lot from other spaces, had some serious mentors and opened with a lot of help. We wanted to create a place for the neighbourhood to come in and express itself.”

“We wanted a place where the coffee was always strong and good, a place where a woman would always feel comfortable sitting solo while having a drink at the bar, and a place where the music was never an afterthought,” Cassidy adds.

52 inc interior. Photo courtesy of Kate Cassidy.

The storefront building with beautiful, high ceilings housed a unique social space as the women of 52 inc. made the most of their one-thousand-square-feet. Designer Carina Rose worked with Katz and Cassidy to create a warm wooded space accented by tiles, lighting fixtures and other materials, including the infamous mermaid glass shower doors that divided the venue, repurposed from a demolished 1950s North Toronto bungalow home.

“For the first couple of years, the front area was a bar while the back area was a small store,” explains Katz. “We sold clothes from local designers, comic books from local artists, music and more. When we had DJs in, people danced under the dresses. After awhile, we got rid of the store.”

For lots of us living in the area—I rented on Brunswick north of College for 15 years—52 inc. was a huge boon with its thoughtful menu, welcoming vibe and novel nightlife. Open six days a week, with events on most evenings, 52 inc. meant many things to many people.

Why it was important: Cassidy and Katz were actively committed to feminist ideals, the promotion of local artists, and the desire to bring communities together. As a result, 52 inc. featured everything from live jazz to debates, discussions and DJs.

“Our ‘business model’ was to see what happened, and this generated a spontaneity that allowed us to witness many moments of beauty,” shares Katz. “We benefited from the commitment, skills and imagination found in the neighbourhood and in the city. 52 inc. was a window into what was already going on. The people who worked, performed and displayed their work there shaped the place.”

Visual artists and graphic designers including Fiona Smyth, Cecilia Berkovic, Suritah Wignall and Noel Nanton created work for 52 inc. Smyth also participated in an afternoon discussion with artist Sook-Yin Lee and former Toronto mayor Barbara Hall. Local clothing designers like Sim & Jones—who had a shop of their own just doors down—helped organize ‘subversive’ fashion shows. Sundays boasted popular open mic night Mocha Lounge’n where DJs Blanco, Son of S.O.U.L., K.I., K.Rafike and others were joined by spoken word artists such as Dwayne Morgan, Jemeni, El Machetero, Clifton Joseph and Hajile Kalaike. Kalaike later went on to host Sundays and continue the spoken word tradition. There were also book launches, art openings and activist talks.

Sook-Yin Lee and former Toronto mayor Barbara Hall. Photo courtesy of Kate Cassidy.

“The space was small and super dynamic,” says Cassidy. “There was a constant flow of ideas, people and movement. Most people came for a glass of wine, a cocktail and to consume, but 52 inc. often had a community centre vibe. It was thrilling to look around the room at times and see who had gathered—to watch connections be made between artists, hip-hop producers, clothing designers, filmmakers, neighbourhood moms, singers, writers, activists and others.”

52 inc. was also one of the first small bars in the area to feature DJs nightly. Paul E. Lopes was the first weekly resident, with other early musical contributors including Mike Tull, DJs Kola and Serious, Mike Klaps and John Kumahara.

“I really hit it off with Amy and Kate because we shared a similar outlook on music and culture,” says Lopes. “It felt like it was a new era, a new funky freedom community. It was a hangout spot for us. They brought artists, DJs and designers together in one small, low-rent space and it felt like home. Watching them serve their patrons equal parts brunch and attitude was fun too.”

“The door at 52 inc. was always open,” agrees Tull. “It was a place where many Toronto DJs honed their skills. I for one would go by every Thursday to test out the records I bought.”

Like Lopes, Tull played regularly both at the College Street location and many of the larger 52 inc. events held elsewhere.

“Kate and Amy were very down-to-earth in their approach to everything, something that is definitely lacking in the promotion game nowadays. The fact that they were women also gave their parties a different vibe.”

College Street in the mid-90s. Photo courtesy of Kate Cassidy.

Who else played there: “We were a small bar and thought big,” says Cassidy. “It’s amazing to think of what we squeezed into that place over the five years.”

That’s no braggadocio. Bands including LAL performed. On the DJ front, dozens and dozens played for a 52 inc. gathering at some point: Nick Holder, deejay nav, Jason Palma, John Kong, Groove Institute, Malik X, Moonstarr, Moodswing, and Noel Nanton are but some of the names. 52 inc. had very close ties with DJs from Toronto’s three community radio stations, with myself and fellow CKLN hosts like Nik Red, Karen Augustine, DJ Zahra, Ray Prasad and Verlia Stephens also mixing it up.

DJ Moodswing. Photo courtesty of Kate Cassidy.

“There was a lot of rare and beautiful music played,” summarizes Katz. “People spent a lot of time at the DJ booth, asking what was being played. There was a lot of experimenting going on.”

To that end, the women of 52 inc. expanded their reach by producing ambitious events at external venues, including warehouse spaces like The Mockingbird and Roxy Blu, where they were one of the first promoters to host regular events.

There, 52 inc. presented a sold-out show by Philly poet Ursula Rucker, spearheaded two massive grassroots fundraisers dubbed Shake:Body (both featured close to 30 DJs and performers), and hosted a series of epic DJ Battles complete with props, ropes and Paul E. Lopes as referee.

“Amy and Kate went all-out and rented movie props,” recalls Lopes. “They had a huge trophy, a giant banner, and hung a life-sized whole side of beef near the DJ booth, to look like Sly Stone training in Rocky. They handed out whistles and towels for the ‘big choons,’ and the crowds, who were like no other, went mad.”

“People always told us our parties were so different—friendly, inviting and fresh,” says Cassidy. “Everyone also knew that our parties reflected our name. More than half of the crowd on the dancefloor were women.”

DJ Jason Palma poses with the giant DJ Battle trophy. Photo courtesy Paul E. Lopes.

What happened to it: With the summer of 2000 approaching, Cassidy says, “our five-year lease was coming up, the landlord was challenging to deal with, and we were exhausted. It felt okay to have 52 inc. come to an end on a high note. We threw a huge party in August, everyone came through to say goodbye, and it felt right somehow. I think we were both also ready to have our own quiet social lives by that point.”

The Cloak and Dagger Pub opened soon after.

Katz has since worked as a community organizer in a variety of capacities. She currently works for a health centre and is concerned with the creation and preservation of community centres and public spaces.

Cassidy, mother to a 20-month-old daughter, will contribute music-programming ideas to friends soon set to open the Midfield Wine Bar and Tavern at Dundas and Gladstone.

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