Clubland: 1991-1994
One of the first things I did upon arriving at the Mercury News in 1986 was
launch a weekly news-and-notes column to cover the nascent nightclub scene
bubbling up in San Jose's redeveloped downtown. After five years, the kibble-and-bits
format became tiresome and I decided to take the column in a different
direction. Each week I would devote the space to a single venue. The
unspoken contract between myself and the reader was this: Each Friday, I'll
pick you up and take you somewhere far removed from the ordinary. Chances
are you'll never actually patronize these establishments yourself. So the
vicarious trip's the thing.
I started in January of 1991 with the Saddle Rack, San Jose's own
Texas-scale answer to the legendary Gilley's honky tonk mecca. By the time
I wrapped up in 1994, it seemed as if I'd visited every biker bar, gay
dance club, leather bar, blues dive, karaoke parlor and faux-Polynesian
tiki-torch cocktail lounge in the greater Bay Area. Give me any dark room packed
with people drinking, dancing, groping and screaming above the roar of an
800-watt sound system and I'll tell you a story.
Eventually, just to keep things interesting, I added a small cast of
recurring characters, the people who would regularly accompany me on the
Friday night forays. My spouse became the Fun Consultant, often the voice
of sober-sided common sense. And there was Iron John, this critic's
fearless and ever-thirsty Sancho Panza (who was, in real life, my insurance
agent for a while). Some weeks the column was more about sociology and
suburban culture than about nightclubs. And sometimes the venue was just a
platform for a writing exercise. Could I do an entire column on a North
Beach Beat poetry and jazz shrine as an extended Neal Cassady
stream-of-consciousness riff? Well, let's find out. I had the benefit of
working for some great editors. David L. Beck, Dean Wright, Robin Doussard
and Holly Hayes all understood and supported what I was trying to do.
Looking back at some of the dubious establishments I visited, I have to
wonder how I got away with it for so many years. There were many nights
when Iron John and I would find ourselves in the middle of some scene so
patently debauched that he would be moved to ask, "Dave, tell me
again. What are we doing here?" We could only shake our heads and
laugh.
The Saddle Rack, Jan. 18, 1991
El Rio, Feb. 15, 1991
The British Bankers Club, July 5, 1991
Zapp's, July 12, 1991
The Carlos Club, Aug. 23, 1991
Ashkenaz, Jan. 10, 1992
The Hotel Utah, Jan. 17, 1992
Knuckle's, Feb. 14, 1992
Bottom of the Hill, April 24, 1992
The Tonga Room, June 5, 1992
The Catalyst, July 3, 1992
Cat's Alley, July 17, 1992
DeMarco's 23 Club, July 24, 1992
Thunder Bay, Sept. 25, 1992
The Lanai, Dec. 11, 1992
J.J.'s Lounge, Feb. 12, 1993
Cafe du Nord, April 30, 1993
Spike's, May 14, 1993
The Iron Gate, June 18, 1993
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