The Dub Club

After leaving the Oyster Bar I tended bar at a few different places. My favorites were the Dub Club on the Landing and the Venice Cafe.

The Dub club was a Reggae club. It was cavernous with 3 levels and 3 bars. This would have been in the early 90s. There was a thriving underground Reggae scene then. The only white people in the place were all on staff.

This place was hard core gangster. The bouncer had a Taser and I witnessed more than a few people getting zapped. Everyone was searched and a lot of guns were confiscated. We made absolutely no money but had the best live bands I’ve ever seen.

The bands came from all over the world. We actually hid an African band in the attic while they tried to gain political asylum.

A young couple managed the place for owners I’d never even met who were supposed prominent “businessmen”. She was a very cute girl named KK and had a crush on my old buddy and drummer Benet Schaeffer. I seem to remember she had some kind of facial piercing and a blue streak in her hair.

Benet got me the job. I believe he was booking some of their acts. (At the time I think I gave him a lot of trouble about the job because I was living in absolute poverty but I wouldn’t have missed the experience for anything.)

I’ll never forget this little girl standing up to giant, angry musicians who weren’t happy with the money the band was taking home.

Her boyfriend was a total hard ass and very funny. I wish I could remember his name because it was unusual. One of the bartenders gave his STAFF t-shirt to a pretty girl. “Did she give you a blow job?” my boss asked. “No”, replied the bartender.” “Then you’re fired!”

They went on to run a place downtown called The New World. I think their clientèle were about “Rave” age, mostly minors on X.

The Dub Club had a 3:00am license and we never got out of there before sunrise. What we didn’t make in cash we more than made up for in alcohol consumption.

One night after closing, we all stayed up drinking with the intention of bungee jumping from a balloon in the morning. I begged out at the last minute because a girl I had a crush on just got into town from LA. She wanted to go skydiving. Just to set the record straight I wouldn’t skydive drunk, but I took her there so she could. (I probably would’ve bungee jumped though).

Across the street they tried to open St. Louis’ first strip joint. I can’t remember the name but it was shut down almost immediately. This is the place that later became Planet Hollywood.

The Dub Club was just too out of control to last very long but it was the real thing. You can’t find places like it in many cities.

The next entry will be about the Venice Cafe.