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[alternate title: i miss 1991]
understand something: i am not now, nor have i ever been, one of those social, clubby fags--by which, i mean (a) i don't dance; (b) i don't like dance music; (c) i hate traveling in a shrieking pack; and (4) i'd rather shave my head with a cheese grater while chewing on tinfoil than scream conversation back and forth over background noise until i'm hoarse [and yeah, i know, i'm missing out on the whole gay communal experience--eat me already].
back in the day, if mkf was caught dead in a gay club it was for one reason only: to find somebody to fuck. and to the degree the club in question facilitated said objective, it placed higher on my list.
and in all the years i catted around los angeles, no club ever surpassed spike in this regard.
situated on the wrong end of santa monica boulevard, spike was this hole-in-the-wall joint that seemingly existed for no other reason than to hook people up. billed as a "levi/leather" bar, it wasn't really--it was just a dark, narrow space for guys to pack into and find each other when the lure of the glossy weho bars paled--plus, they were open til 4 on weekends. what more could anybody ask for?
get there at about 11:30 or so, order the token vodka/whatever so you'd have something to hold until you found your boy, fight your way through the cigarette smoke to the pool table (which had been covered by then so people could sit on it) or--like me--to the back of the room, settle your ass onto the stack of beer boxes lining the perimeter, light up and await developments.
and then--and this was the thing about spike--be unexpectedly blown away by the music you heard there.
over the course of the many years i patronized the place, i heard shit come outta their little dj booth i never heard anywhere else--such as, for instance, the one that came up on shuffle tonight and thus prompted this post:
only four notes to the whole goddam song, but four notes you won't soon forget--talk about creative minimalism.
[i would like to think that my fond memories of this song have more to do with its intrinsic goodness than with the blond boy who was grinding his ass into my crotch to its beat the first time i heard it, but that's open to interpretation.
whatever.]
and then that one leads inevitably to this one, from about the same time:
i've blacked out the artist on this video for a reason: because i want you to listen without prejudice, just as i did on that dark, smoky night way back in 1991 when it blew me away the first time i heard it.
i knew the song, and i recognized its author (b.b. king) on lead guitar, but i couldn't for the life of me figure out who the fuck was singing it.
[until i went over and asked--and then went out the next day and bought the first and only pat benatar album i've ever owned.]
and what ultimately happened to spike? doesn't matter--it's gone, as it probably should be. that wasn't the point of this post, really; i just hope you enjoyed the music.
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9 comments:
Ah, spike..
the first gay bar i ever snuck into..
wow, the things i would've done to you had my hyperactive 'even-hornier-than-now' self ran into you around that time..
as you can see, i miss you so much in many ways that it hurts.. badly.
xo, ~your drunken pathetic monkey.
Well, you were right in memory, just a little off in description.
Spike was then really a cruise bar. Its main purpose was to hook people up. It billed itself as a Levi/leather bar, but it was never that. Everyone knew that and they never enforced any dress code like real leather bars sometimes have to do.
As a cruise bar, the music was important. Most guys came to the Spike alone. It was always kinda weird to go with friends.
Cruising was and is a solitary sport. So you could sit by yourself for an hour or two not talking to anybody, just looking around and seeing what your prospects were.
The music was so crucial because there was not a lot of talking. You were alone with your thoughts and the music was there to get you in the mood. Think of it as the only foreplay most gay guys ever got.
If you don't know what I am talking about, check out:
www.buttboymusic.com
That's kinda the general genre.
I went to the Spike many a time on a Friday night (its best night, because Saturdays was a different crowd). I was always looking to find the amazing guy next door that I was sure was going walk through the front door any minute now.
It would get to be late and the crowd would change...people leaving and some coming in. I stayed many a time on a Friday after the bar close rush (between a little before 2 until about 2:30). Lots of new guys coming in from whatever bar they had been to earlier -- horny and looking because they were not yet ready to declare defeat and call it a night.
I stayed many a time well past 3. It seemed like I finally had to confess to myself that amazing guy was not going to make it to the Spike tonight. He probably was working on his dissertation and had an early morning workout session scheduled with his best friend and workout partner.
Indeed, in my many nights at the Spike, I think I hooked up twice. Truth is, the Spike was not a particularly good cruise bar because it had too many guys from West Hollywood who would not give up their attitude...even in a cruise bar. If you wanted a serious cruise bar, you really had to head to Silver Lake. Something I never really did because I was usually the one throwing the attitude.
Cruise bars kinda died when guys migrated to the internet to cruise. Something I have lamented because cyber-cruising lends itself to frauds and cowards (insert out previous ramblings concerning how lame manhunt is).
At the Spike, if you liked a guy,
you grabbed his crotch and would know in 5 second whether you were a match or not.
As guys moved to the internet, the Spike slowly descended into a tweaker hangout. It was open all night and gave guys a place to go where you could be with other tweakers before it got late enough on Sunday to do something else.
I am not gay, but gay bars are pretty fun. Its one thing to be checked out by a girl, but if you get checked out by a guy you know you are doing something right.
yhm: i miss you too, babe--this week, i hope.
noblesavage: couple things:
1. you say my description was a "little off," and then went on to describe the place in almost exactly the same way i did (compare your paragraph 2 to my paragraph 4). are you skimming?
2. thanks for the additional color commentary--and i can totally see why spike was mostly a wash for you; it was a place for people whose needs and standards were lower, simpler and less conflicted than yours (i.e., i loved it).
les: exactly right--i'm glad you can appreciate being cruised for the implied compliment it really is.
Truth to tell there are probably a lot more gay men in this country who are NOT "social clubby fags ... who don't dance, don't like dance music, hate traveling in a shrieking pack and ... scream[ing] conversation back and forth over background noise until hoarse" than there those who are. I'm one of them, too.
I read an article some while ago that helped me understand why I have such trouble finding a restaurant I like eating in--most are way too noisy and I will not ruin a good meal yelling at my dinner companions. The article mentioned that restaurants these days are being designed purposely with mostly sound-reflective surfaces. The younger generation likes the constant roar of noise around them, having been raised with high-level sound in their ears at all times. Apparently they get nervous when it's quiet and they need to focus on one voice or one activity without the Great Buzz enveloping them.
That is very interesting. I could see that for sure.
I remember 'The Spike' - shame it is closed now. Then again I haven't been to LA in a coon's age. This is the first I heard about it. I remember how at home I was there in my Salad Days where as my label wearing, mousse cuoffed minsing cohorts thought the place was 'simply ghastly'. On the gay club level we have the same thing in common - so much in common it's terrorfying. Or cool...
You are right that my description of the Spike was in many ways exactly how you described it.
The reason your description was off (at least in my opinion)...was not that you failed to give the West Hollywood flavor of the Spike.
It can only get so gritty when a lot of the patrons were pretty with perfect nails, shaved chests, and too much attitude.
Although guys got off and certainly hooked up at the Spike, the pretty ones would come in and mess a lot of that up. Of the really hot guys I remember who would step in to that place, they never really hooked up.
I did not notice the average joes then, except when they would come up to talk to me as I was nursing my berry flavored Calistoga.
One night, this guy came up. He said hello and I said hello back. Then there was this long pause. The long pause signals, to me at least, that while I am not rude, I am also not interested.
So, after a little while of awkward silence, he said the most remarkable thing. He asked me, "Would you rather be alone?" And, struck by that, I said "Yes, thank you." I just thought it was a nice way of politely ending our time together.
He went off for further hunting and I resumed my staring longingly at the guy or two that I was lusting after that night, never to ever get him.
So the Spike from that era was really part my experience as much as yours. While you ignored me and the guys like me, I think guttermorality was the exception on that. It really did kinda ruin a lot of the cruising atmosphere of the place.
I just don't think the Spike could then ever compare to Cuffs or a few other truly cruise bars. And what you noticed when you walked in to Cuffs was the absence of West Hollywood guys. The men were older, usually drunk and ready to get laid and, quite frankly, not too picky about with whom.
But, then again, if you were a chickenhawk, perhaps the Spike was the perfect place to be.
will: so THAT'S why i don't enjoy eating out anymore--thanks for clearing that up.
luis: it's true--we're probably very alike in this regard.
noblesavage: i usually found spike to be a good compromise between weho and silverlake, but as you say, i generally fished in a different part of the pond than did you.
i had some wild times in cuffs, as well--but again, i tended to go for a different type when i went there, too.
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