The Great Rock Revival
The events of this circle take place in the early 2000s, a very special time for rock music that must be acknowledged. With a few very notable exceptions, the music charts of the mid-to-late-90s were dominated by hip-hop artists, and boy and girl bands. Guitars and drum sets were replaced with synthesizers and drum machines, as Britney Spears, the Backstreet Boys, and the Spice Girls, topped the charts. If one wanted to hear a distorted guitar on the radio, their best chance was on country and classic rock stations. This changed at the turn of the millennium, but to understand why, it is important to again discuss punk rock.
While punk is associated with going against the mainstream and being anti-commercial, this was not true during its nascent years. For example, the Ramones—who are often considered the early proto-punk band—were very popular. Their Presidential Seal logo was (and continues to be) one of the most common logos seen on band t-shirts, and “Blitzkrieg Bop” was (and is) played at major league sports games. The band even released a feature-length film! Likewise, many of their contemporaries such as the Sex Pistols and the Clash all had multi-platinum albums.
From punk a faster, more aggressive subset emerged in the late 1970s: hardcore. Of this genre, Black Flag is to hardcore what the Ramones are to punk.[1] Hardcore music was not the traditional verse-chorus-repeat design with melodic singers, instead they opted for shouting with no rules of song structure. Power chords were played very fast on guitars, with guitar solos being dubbed by at least one writer as representing the “’excess and superficiality’ of mainstream commercial rock.”[2] It is from hardcore that moshing arose, and it is also the genre that made popular music breakdowns.
By the early-to-mid-1980s, post-hardcore already emerged. These were bands that kept the fast elements of hardcore, but returned to melodies and harmonies. While post-hardcore bands existed in Washington, D.C., San Diego, and some cities in between, they had yet to hit the mainstream, with the band Fugazi achieving perhaps the most notoriety. Within post-hardcore was yet another subset, whose lyricists wrote personal, emotional “purges,” with lyrics that often revolved around “nostalgia, romantic bitterness, and poetic desperation.”[3] These were similar lyrical themes to their contemporary deathrockers and goths, but the music was significantly different. This genre came to be known as “emotional hardcore” or “emocore,” later shortened to just “emo.”[4] The proto-band for this was Rites of Spring, though their singer/guitarist resented the “emo” label. They were only active from 1983-1986.
Washington, D.C. was the epicenter for emo music, and once Rites of Spring broke up, the scene arguably did as well, though the albums continued to spread outside the area. Through these albums and hearsay, local bands throughout the country tried to emulate the sound.[5] This included Jawbreaker, who was extremely influential in the genre, with their singer even taking lyrics and inspiration directly out of his journal.[6] Still, despite signing to Geffen Records and touring with Nirvana and Green Day, Jawbreaker also did not gain much traction before breaking up soon after their first major label release.
With the emergence of Nirvana and grunge, audiences and record labels turned to the underground to see what was happening. From this, California punk was discovered, and beginning with Green Day’s Dookie in February 1994, followed a month later by the Offpsring’s Smash, “pop-punk” came into existence. Dookie was certified diamond and Smash went 6x platinum. Album sales only grew for these artists during the 90s, and they came to be labeled as “sellouts.”[7] In 1995, the first Warped Tour was held, which became sponsored by Vans the following year. It seemed to fans of “real” music that all their favorite bands were selling out to corporations and record labels. Punk and grunge, which was associated with challenging the mainstream, became mainstream.
And this was just the start. Pop-punk gradually took over MTV and top-hit radio stations, as Blink-182 released Enema of the State in 1999, Sum-41 released All Killer No Filler with its multi-platinum single “Fat Lip” in 2001, and Avril Lavigne with her punk-inspired attire released Let Go in 2002. Just prior to this, in Gainesville, Florida, John Janick teamed up with Less Than Jake’s drummer, Vinnie Fiorello, to form a record label called Fueled by Ramen. In 1998 they signed their first major artist, Jimmy Eat World, whose 2001 song “The Middle” became a major hit. Fueled by Ramen went on to sign artists such as Fall Out Boy, Yellowcard, 3OH!3, Dashboard Confessional, Paramore, and Panic! At the Disco.
By 2004, the lines between emo and pop-punk had fused, forming “emo pop,” which kept the music and singing styles of pop punk, and combined it with the nostalgic, emotional, and overall dramatic lyrics of emo. It was during 2004 that Green Day released American Idiot, Hawthorne Heights released The Silence in Black and White, the Killers released Hot Fuss, and My Chemical Romance released Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. While pop punk and emo were featured on MTV and the radio, it was largely thanks to a new front that the music spread.
As computers and the Internet became increasingly ubiquitous during the early-2000s, millennial youths took to the new technologies at high rates. Around 2004-2005, MySpace—which was not the first social media website, but the most unprecedented in its popularity and reach—took off. MySpace made it very easy for bands, including local bands, to upload music to their page, and to connect with other bands, as well as fans and venues. At the same time, even users who were not in bands could add followers just as other social networking platforms today. They could fully customize their profile using HTML codes and by adding music that linked to bands on MySpace. This allowed for the youth of the era to easily spread their favorite music, while discovering new bands.
Just as important as the music of this era was the fashion. People adhering to the fashion were called various terms such as “scenesters,” “scene kids,” and “emo kids.” They posted photos of themselves on MySpace emulating members of their favorite bands. The most apparent styles came from Green Day’s American Idiot era and My Chemical Romance, with glam metal influences. Scene kids dressed in skinny jeans, with clothes just as common to be brightly colored as they were to be black. Likewise, their hair was often either dyed black or fluorescent colors, and typically either straightened, teased to have “big hair,” and/or had bangs covering much of their face. Thick black eyeliner, on both boys and girls, was common. Accessories included diamond-studded belts, fingerless gloves, stretched earlobes, and lip-rings. T-shirts, often purchased at Hot Topic, advertised their favorite bands.
For the first time since grunge, a subset of rock had become popular with a whole style and youth community built around it. The music had their roots in punk, hardcore, goth, emo, metal, and other alternative genres. Despite the genres becoming mainstream, if bands were unable to sellout arenas in Atlanta, there was the medium-sized mecca in the city that had long catered to their musical forbearers: the Masquerade.
Concert Safety
The Masquerade became the place for Atlanta’s alternative scene. Bands touring nationally visited the Masquerade to check out the venue when Atlanta was a tour stop, even if they were playing at larger venues earlier in the evening.[8] On June 15, 2000, Home-Grown Industries of Georgia formally sold 695 North Avenue to Dean Riopelle for $1.9 million, though Mellow Mushroom continued using the property’s back building as their commissary kitchen until 2006.[9] [10] Aside from the property sale, little else changed at the Masquerade in 2000 from the previous decade. However, 2000 proved to be the calm before the storm, as 2001 marked the start of several changes to the Masquerade, the City of Atlanta, and the nation at large.
The September 11th Terrorist Attacks took place outside of Atlanta, but the trepidation of another attack happening any where at any time rippled throughout the country. The media’s featuring of the Bush Administration’s Homeland Security Advisory System, a color-coded scale that estimated the likelihood of a terrorist attack being committed that day, did not alleviate these anxieties. Both the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the Cable News Network (CNN) were headquartered in Atlanta, so it was not unreasonable for residents to believe Atlanta could be next—especially with memories of the Centennial Olympic Park Bombing just five years prior.
While people were encouraged to go about their day, believing that living in fear means that the terrorists won, “keeping calm and carrying on” was easier said than done. This uneasiness combined with an overall economic downturn in the wake of the tragedy, affected the live music industry at a national level, dropping ticket sales by 15% from the previous year.[11] Along the same line, the industry took another hit after the 2003 Invasion of Iraq and its ensuing global protests, as many bands cancelled their tours in the uncertainty of what the war’s impact would be.[12] Despite this, music fans in Atlanta kept rocking on, selling out several shows at the Masquerade even in the month immediately after 9/11 when Sum-41 and the Insane Clown Posse played the venue.[13] For Hell’s dance nights, up to 700 people were still regularly drawn.[14]
While the stoicism of Atlanta’s music scene is admirable, it should be noted that the above crowd count exceeded Hell’s 500-person capacity. Indeed, the Masquerade took a lax approach to their occupancy loads at the time. This came to bite them on New Year’s Eve 2001, when approximately 3,000 revelers descended on the club hoping to bring in a better year after such a dismal one. This crowd count was almost double the building’s total 1,750 maximum capacity. Thirty minutes before 2002 began, the Masquerade’s Stairway to Heaven collapsed. It is not known how many people were on the staircase at the time, but at least 14 were people injured, including ten that needed to be taken to local hospitals, though the most severe was a broken ankle. When authorities arrived, the Masquerade’s staff could not say what the approved building’s occupancy was, though fire marshals could easily discern that the club was overloaded. While the party continued outside for a bit, authorities shut the Masquerade down at 12:45 am. The owners were cited for not keeping the maximum capacity cards in a conspicuous spot, for blocking an exit, and for overcrowding.[15]
Two days after the collapse, Purgatory and Hell opened back up, bringing in at least some cash flow to the Masquerade.[16] Heaven was expected to reopen within five days of the collapse, however the process of approving the repairs took over two weeks. This resulted in several bands who were scheduled to perform in Heaven being brought to the much smaller stage in Hell; while large acts that sold out or were expecting to sell out Heaven, such as metal band Kittie, had their performances moved to Earthlink Live (presently known as Center Stage) ten minutes north in Midtown.[17] Heaven reopened by the end of January 2002, and business returned to normal for a bit.
Then, in February 2003, two events put concert safety concerns into the national spotlight. The first was the E2 Nightclub Stampede that occurred in Chicago on February 17. During this event, a fight broke out causing security to pepper spray the participants, before carrying them up a staircase that led to the front doors. Security then shut these doors behind them without thinking. The people in the immediate vicinity of the fight inhaled some of the pepper spray fumes, causing them to throw up and faint. This made those who were unaware of the earlier scuffle believe that terrorists had released a poisonous gas into the club.
Approximately 1,500 people rushed to exit E2, however one of the emergency exits were chained shut and the front door of the club that security mistakenly shut only opened inward—a fire code violation in and of itself. This combined to make it difficult for the stampede of people to exit, resulting in a six-foot heap of bodies climbing over each other in the jammed stairwell in the panic. Twenty-one people died as a result of asphyxiation from the stampede and fifty more were injured.[18] The owners of E2 were found responsible and sentenced to two years in prison.
Then, just three nights later in West Warwick, Rhode Island, another tragedy happened at a venue called the Station. During this event, the band Great White set off pyrotechnic sparks that ignited the club’s soundproofing foam. Within one minute, much of the room was on fire; within two minutes, the room was filled with thick, black smoke that made it difficult to see and breathe. The Station had four possible exits, though almost everyone attempted to leave via the front door. There were 462 people in attendance that night, exceeding the club’s 404-person capacity. Of those 462 people, 100 died and 230 were injured.[19] This affected Atlanta nightclubs by adding increased safety guidelines and by having more detailed fire inspections in 2003. No doubt, the Masquerade was doubly scrutinized because of the Stairway to Heaven’s collapse the year before. Nonetheless, the Masquerade passed all inspections.
Sunday Beer Sales
Nightlife in Atlanta faced another challenge early in the new millennium when the City of Atlanta began enforcing a state law from 1978 that mandated all bars to be closed on Sundays. While the law had indeed always been in place, Atlanta club owners long used a loophole. This was that if food sales made up at least 50% of their annual business, the establishment qualified as a restaurant and could remain open. To accomplish this, many establishments, such as Blake’s on the Park in Midtown, added Sunday brunches. Other places, even that were obviously bars, simply applied for a restaurant license and were usually granted the status without offering much proof.
Atlanta Police Major L.J. Robinson asserted that the law was always enforced, however Alan Begner—an attorney representing 70 local bars and restaurants, including the Masquerade—said that the city previously ignored the law to collect the substantial tax revenue. As one can imagine, tax revenue was especially considerable as bars have to pay a per-drink tax on all liquor sales, and the NFL made Sundays one of the busiest days of the week. Nonetheless, bar owners received letters signed by Atlanta Police Lieutenant P. M. Williams in late 2001, informing them that to renew their restaurant license for the following year, they had to include an audit report from a certified public accountant that showed total food sales, alcohol sales, and admission charges; as well as cancelled checks dating back to when the business opened; a list of all food and alcohol vendors; all inventory purchase receipts; bank statements since the date of the business’s purchase; and all menus and price lists. The letter stated that, “Failure to furnish this data within 30 days of request shall automatically dismiss, with prejudice, the application.”
The letters required the materials to be received by January 17, 2002, though they were not even mailed until December 14, 2001. Businesses thus had to scramble to either provide the information, or apply for a bar license and accept that they would be missing Sunday revenue. Compliant businesses closed on Sundays as early as January 20, while others simply defied the order. For example, Bev Cook, owner of the Heretic (an Atlanta gay nightclub), followed the order for a bit, resulting in a weekly 25% loss of revenue. She told local media how nonsensical the law was, in that it benefitted no one—the city lost money, her business lost money, and her staff lost a day’s pay and tips. She therefore decided to stay open, letting the chips fall where they may.
It is unknown what prompted the enforcement of the old law, with a police spokesperson just saying, “If the laws are on the books, they will be enforced.” Many residents found the blue law embarrassing—Atlanta had been calling itself an international and modern city since the 1970s. However, if they were to compete with the tourism and conventions held in other east coast cities, such as New York or Miami, the fact that people could not get a drink on a weekend would give other cities an upper hand. In fact, one could go to cities that were seen as more socially and politically conservative, such as Birmingham, and be able to drink there.[20] Just as this controversy started to blow over with the city ultimately winning and Sunday alcohol sales remaining illegal in Georgia until 2011, another debate began to take hold.
Atlanta Curfew
For years, Atlanta was recognized for its 24-hour nightclubs such as Backstreet. Eventually, a law was established ending alcohol sales at 4:00 am, putting an end to 24/7 clubs. Then, in the early morning hours of November 11, 2003, patrons Anthony “Wolf” Jones and Lamont Girdy where shot and killed in the middle of the street after leaving a Buckhead nightclub called Chaos.[21] These were the eighth and ninth nightlife-related murders since January 2000, the first being two men who were stabbed to death outside a club after the Super Bowl, which was held that year in Atlanta.[22] Because Buckhead was the city’s contemporary party district, the murders could largely be isolated to this area and, interestingly, further isolated to occur between of 3:40 and 4:20 am. The Atlanta City Council thus decided to meet on November 30, 2003, to discuss further reducing the hours of alcohol sales.
Because the murders had a time trend, those on the council in favor of reducing the hours suggested clubs stop selling alcohol by 2:00 am and to be closed by 3:00 am. This faction was led by Councilwoman Mary Norwood of Buckhead. Others believed it was ridiculous to blame the shootings on time— “What are we going to do when someone gets shot at 1:59?” one councilman countered.[23] People involved in the nightlife industry felt that a shorter period for patrons to “get their fill” would dangerously result in people partying harder for a shorter period of time. Furthermore, they believed that releasing them all at once would result in even more problems.[24]
Of course, finances were also a concern. A group comprised of 52 Atlanta bars and clubs—including the Masquerade—crunched the numbers to discover that the two-hour decrease in serving time would result in an annual loss of $150,000 to city tax revenue, a $12.8 million loss in industry revenue, and a $2.9 million loss in bartender and waitress tips.[25]
Club owners recognized that nightlife violence was a problem, but felt that trying to solve it by decreasing hours was silly. Instead, they proposed more police protection in Buckhead, though officials would not hear of this, arguing that Buckhead was one of Atlanta’s safest areas—except between 3:40 and 4:20 am. Increasing police coverage in an otherwise safe district would take police away from other needed hours, and remove them from neighborhoods with more consistent criminal activity.[26]
A group of about 20 people formed the Atlanta Licensed Beverage Council (ALBC) in opposition to the proposed hour reduction. These 20 members represented bars and nightclubs such as Smith’s Olde Bar, Atkins Park, the Vortex, and the Masquerade. The group’s headquarters was at the Masquerade, where they discussed their courses of action and potential solutions. One of their more bizarre suggestions was to form an Atlanta chapter of the Guardian Angels—the red-beret wearing volunteers who patrolled subways in New York City. The ALBC went so far as to schedule a meeting with Curtis Silway, the founder of the Guardian Angels, but it was ultimately cancelled as it was too controversial among councilmembers, the police, and other stakeholders. Soon, it became apparent that the concerns about Buckhead nightlife was not just violence, but also the noise, traffic congestion, and other peripheral factors of partying (such as people urinating and vomiting in the street). Because Buckhead was Atlanta’s most affluent district, they arguably controlled the city. The council voted 11-4 that beginning in January 2004, last call at bars was to be 2:30—30 minutes later than the original proposal—and that doors had to be closed by 3:00.[27] As of 2024, this law remains the same.
Going Underground
Atlanta’s reduction in serving hours was a major loss to the nightlife industry. Some bars and clubs closed immediately, including the Chamber that was still co-owned and operated by Dean Riopelle and Mon Cherie. However, City Councilman H. Lamar Willis successfully fought for an exemption to the law: it would not apply to entertainment districts. This was to benefit Underground Atlanta, the former stomping grounds of Piano Red before his move to the Excelsior Mill Restaurant, which fell within Willis’ district.[28] All the problems that Buckhead faced could be mediated with this compromise. If the problem with nightlife was noise being a nuisance to residents, Underground Atlanta was surrounded only by retail stores and office complexes. If the problem was violence, a $5 cover charge was to be paid after 9:00 pm to get into Underground Atlanta, which would then be put toward security. This $5 also earned the patron a free drink voucher, all the while deterring loiterers.[29] Furthermore, the MARTA stop right outside the district would result in less traffic and DUIs.
Underground Atlanta had never been able to catch fire in the past. The district was popular when it first opened in 1969 through Piano Red’s tenure at Muhlenbrink’s Saloon, however it sat derelict throughout most of the 1980s. In 1989, Underground reopened as a shopping district, but this proved to be only briefly successful as the area came to be associated with crime—both real and perceived—after being heavily damaged during the Rodney King Protests.[30] [31] The district had a brief resurgence among tourists during the 1996 Olympics, however locals mostly stayed away from the area, believing it was overrun by gangs, panhandlers, and other criminals—largely as a result of the city’s crack cocaine plague during the 1990s. The only event that brought great attendance to Underground was the New Year’s Eve Peach Drop, which took place annually in the district since 1989.
Willis and Underground Atlanta’s manager, Dan O’Leary, saw Atlanta’s reduction in serving hours as an opportunity to rejuvenate the district. The area had definable boundaries, an attached parking garage with security, a police precinct, at least ten officers who patrolled the area at night, and security cameras—it was now arguably the safest place to party in Metro-Atlanta.[32] Another added lure to Underground was that there were no open-container laws—patrons could grab a drink at one bar and enjoy it while walking to the next, something rare to find in Atlanta.
O’Leary announced that he wanted to bring in ten bars and clubs, with hopes to transform the district into an Atlanta version of Bourbon Street. He wanted each establishment to have its own unique theme, rather than each place being a copy of the other. Twenty owners jumped on the opportunity to apply for a lease.[33] O’Leary said he would be highly selective among the applicants, only accepting those with experience and good track records. The selection process took longer than even he was expecting, but by May 2004, contracts were signed to open six new nightclubs in Underground Atlanta. The goal was for them all to open on December 30, 2004, the day before the Peach Drop and Peach Bowl. Of the six nightclubs under contract, five of them had ties to the Masquerade.[34]
One of the clubs in the district was “Future,” a 10,000 square-foot dance club owned by Dean Riopelle. The theme of this club was “faux fetish,” in that it was meant to be a fun and campier version than its predecessor the Chamber. Artist Shane Morton designed the club to have a 1950s futuristic theme, with silver being the dominant color choice, and murals of B-film alien invasions throughout. Future had an upstairs VIP area, where patrons could change into their fetish gear—assuming they did not want to walk to the venue in leather and latex.
Another club was to be called “Island Oasis,” though it changed its name to “Kocos.” This one was also owned by Riopelle. The theme for Kocos was simpler than Future: Cocktail-style flair bartenders, Jimmy Buffett music, and frozen daiquiris served in a tropical setting.[35] Riopelle also had a minor stake at another new club called “Latin Quarter,” though it quickly changed its name to “Latin Sol.” This was the largest club in the district at 13,000 square-feet and featured Latino music.[36] Yet another club co-owned by Riopelle was also with Charlie Brown, Atlanta’s most notorious drag queen. Together they opened “Charlie Brown’s Cabaret,” a drag club in Underground Atlanta, though Greg Green (the Masquerade’s longtime manager) was listed as the agent applying.[37]
Another establishment with Masquerade ties was “the Alley Cat,” which was originally going to be called “the Three Legged Cat.”[38] This was a 4,000 square-foot rock n’ roll bar. This one was owned and operated by Brian McNamara, one of the other founders of the Masquerade. McNamara described the Alley Cat as “The Playboy Club with some gimmicks.” The walls had exposed brick covered in rock memorabilia, and the floors were littered with pool tables. A stage was setup at the front for local rock bands to perform. The female staff wore black vinyl hot pants and go-go boots, and performed cabaret and singing numbers throughout the night. Food included typical bar food, as well as tapas and sashimi. The target audience for the Alley Cat was clearly the “rock n’ roll, tattoo/pierced crowd.”
The Masquerade affiliated nightclubs all opened in an area of Underground Atlanta called Kenny’s Alley, which was named after Michael E. Kenny. Kenny was an Irish resident of Atlanta and the owner of the Chicago Ale Depot on Pryor Street, who died when a “spirited and somewhat dangerous horse” he was riding leapt over a railing, throwing Kenny against a post. He lies in Oakland Cemetery.[39]
Of all the new themed clubs, hip-hop was noticeably missing. This stood out because hip-hop was especially popular in 2004, and much of the music was coming from Outkast, TI, the Ying Yang Twins, and other artists from Atlanta. In fact, the biggest hit of 2004 was “Yeah!” which featured a trio of Atlanta artists: Usher, Ludacris, and Lil’ Jon. Underground Atlanta got called out for this by local media, saying it seemed intentional because of hip-hop’s stereotypical association with black people. O’Leary addressed the concern, saying he was willing to open an upscale hip-hop club and that he had even spoken with an unnamed individual to do so during the application process, however the person failed to meet his criteria. O’Leary told the AJC, “We’re open to all types of clubs. It depends on who the operators are and what type of establishment they run.”[40]
By March 2006, Underground Atlanta failed to gain the popularity it was hoping for. On average, the district brought in 2,000 people on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, combined. This was less than some individual clubs did on just a Friday night in Atlanta. Of the six original clubs that opened, three had already changed their concepts. Future was to reopen on St. Patrick’s Day as “the Mercury Club,” a traditional, mainstream rock venue. Kocos only lasted a few weeks before becoming a sports/karaoke bar called “Triple Play.” Latin Sol did well early on, but lost steam and changed owners, eventually becoming “Motion,” a vodka bar that spun top 40 hits. Despite not doing too well, the Alley Cat remained, but had a new manager, Andy Adler, who wanted to stick it out for another year as he only needed 20% more business for it to be a success. The most successful club in Underground Atlanta proved to be Charlie Brown’s Cabaret.
Underground Atlanta dropped the $5 cover fee, though most of the bars charged their own cover during busy hours. This decision caused a problem for patrons, as part of the original appeal of Underground was that they could barhop. Now, patrons needed to pay for each place they wanted to visit. Also, many people felt that the reason Underground Atlanta was not gaining any traction was because it continued to hold a stigma for crime and panhandling. O’Leary acknowledged the negative perception of the district, saying that if people would just take the initial step to come out and visit, they would have a great experience.[41] Eventually, all of the above-mentioned businesses closed.
Meanwhile in Tampa…
As the Masquerade affiliated themed clubs were opening in Atlanta, changes were coming to the Tampa Masquerade. Joe Capitano, owner of the Rivoli and later Ritz Theatre that currently held the Masquerade, asked interior designer Tammy Dominguez what she could do with the vacant spaces above the Masquerade. She gave him ideas, and construction of her $135,000 project began in September 2002. By February 1, 2003, the “Suites at Rivoli” opened with four apartments and four hotel suites. The apartments cost $750 a month, and the suites cost $180 a night during the week or $250 a night on a weekend. Suite packages were offered that included a beer or wine gift basket, homemade cookies, whipped cream and strawberries, breakfast at nearby Joffrey’s coffee, and complimentary cigars from nearby Ybor shops.[42]
Guests and residents felt the muted rumbling of the bass from the music of the Masquerade downstairs, as their dishware and lighting fixtures rattled through the night. However, there was quite a difference between the dark, metallic nightclub that was the downstairs Masquerade with its black painted walls and plywood covered windows, versus upstairs in the living quarters where the walls were painted bright with warm colors or clashing neon, with philosophical quotes or geometry equations written on them. Now that Ybor City had transitioned from pure party town to a more eclectic and artsy neighborhood where people were looking to live, Dean Riopelle and the other owners at the Masquerade saw a new opportunity upon recently signing their 15-year lease renewal.
The goal was to turn the Tampa Masquerade into a “trendy, artsy haven for lovers of folk, blues, Latin and eclectic music,” and to include an all-organic café that overlooked 15th Street. Riopelle said that Dominguez’s vision of change was just what he had been looking for and that it had “been in the back of my mind for a long time, but we didn’t want to do it halfway.” To ensure the continued popularity of the Masquerade, Riopelle wanted to appeal to a more inclusive crowd, rather than the black clad crowd.[43] Dominguez hoped to better the acoustics, “warm up” the interior with bright colors and a plethora of fabrics, and to add carpet to the “cold club floor.” The project was expected to take six to eight months, with one room closing after the other to not disturb business.[44]
Dominguez painted the once black walls of the Tampa Masquerade orange and painted the ceiling blue, with baby-blue tiles with patterns stenciled into them abound. The owners of the Masquerade were supposedly even considering change the name of the venue to something that incorporated “Rivoli” into its title. The original goal was to “push out” alternative rock acts, and to instead host salsa, Caribbean, and New World, music.[45] While the Masquerade may have brightened up, the venue certainly did not push out alternative acts.
Take me down to the Paradise City…
As the Masquerade affiliated clubs were opening in Underground Atlanta, Dean Riopelle shifted his attention to another business he was opening in 2004. This one was called “Paradise City,” located in Alpharetta, an affluent Atlanta suburb where Riopelle lived. This 21,000 square foot establishment was located in the former Chattahoochee Lodge, and housed more of Riopelle’s signature business strategy of a trio of themed rooms.[46] One of the rooms was a Chuck-E-Cheese style eating area and game room; the other was the “Enchanted Forest Café,” reminiscent of the Lord of the Rings; and the last was a bar that featured live cover bands Wednesday through Saturday, called the “Rock Star Saloon.”[47] Food in the saloon included upscale seafood, as well as comfort food; and the kid areas included pizza, hotdogs, chicken fingers, and ice cream.[48] The business plan of Paradise City was that parents could drop off their children to have a fun night, and then walk to the Rock Star Saloon to have a fun night of their own—all while remaining under the same roof.
While Riopelle had recently sold the Chamber by this time, and even though the Masquerade continued its success as alternative music crossed into the mainstream—it was still very expensive to open a new nightclub. Furthermore, he was opening five at the same time. Doing so would require a large cash influx.
He decided to sell the Atlanta Masquerade.
[1] Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground, 1981-1991, Michael Azerrad, Underground Music, 2002.
[2] Williams, Sarah. “Hardcore”. In Continuum Encyclopedia of Popular Music Volume 8: North America. Edited by John Shepherd and David Horn. p. 257-260
[3] Nothing Feels Good: Punk Rock, Teenagers, and Emo. Andy Greenwald. New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2003. 12-13.
[4] Greenwald, 13.
[5] Greenwald, 18.
[6] Greenwald, 21.
[7] For more on this, see Sellout: The Major-Label Feeding Frenzy That Swept Punk, Emo, and Hardcore (1994–2007) by Dan Ozzi.
[8] “Overscene,” Richard L. Eldredge, the AJC, October 9, 2001, D2.
[9] Home Sales in Atlanta, the AJC, August 10, 2000, JN10.
[10] Author interview with Michael Reeves
[11] “Concert Attendance is Down Nationwide, but Atlanta…Rocks On,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, December 6, 2001, G1.
[12] “War in the Gulf: Homefront: Arts, Travel,” Bill Hendrick, the AJC, March 21, 2003, B4
[13] “Concert Attendance is Down Nationwide, but Atlanta…Rocks On,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, December 6, 2001, G1.
[14] “Pop Music: ‘80s Lady – Like Fans of the Peppy Decade, Cyndi Lauper is Still Having Fun,” Craig Seymour, the AJC, December 28, 2001, P1.
[15] “New Year’s 2002: More than a Dozen Hurt at Nightclub,” Saeed Ahmed, the AJC, January 1, 2002, A13
[16] “Speed Reads: Clubs: Masquerade Fixing Stairs,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, January 3, 2002, B1
[17] “Speed Reads: Heaven Must Wait,” Roadney Ho, the AJC, January 17, 2002, F1
[18] “Judge blocks charges against E2 owners,” CNN.com, February 19, 2003, http://www.cnn.com/2003/US/Midwest/02/18/chicago.nightclub/index.html.
[19] “The Great White Nightclub Fire: Ten Years Later,” Pat Pemberton, the Rolling Stone, July 15, 2003, https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/the-great-white-nightclub-fire-ten-years-later-243338/.
[20] “Sunday Laws Taxing Patience of Bar Owners – Less Revenue on Tap: Many Atlanta Bars Unwillingly Take Day of Rest as City Enforces Rules,” Richard L. Eldredge, the AJC, January 28, 2002, C1.
[21] “Bar Hours Debate Goes Before Council,” Ernie Suggs, the AJC, November 30, 2003, G4
[22] “Council Struggles with Bar Debate – Early Hours Foes, Backers Jam Session,” Ernie Suggs, the AJC, December 2, 2003, B1
[23] “Bar Hours Debate Goes Before Council,” Ernie Suggs, the AJC, November 30, 2003, G4
[24] “Council Struggles with Bar Debate – Early Hours Foes, Backers Jam Session,” Ernie Suggs, the AJC, December 2, 2003, B1
[25] “Bar Hours Debate Goes Before Council,” Ernie Suggs, the AJC, November 30, 2003, G4
[26] Suggs.
[27] “Closing Time Unites Atlanta’s Bar Owners,” Milo Ippolito, the AJC, December 11, 2003, JN1
[28] “Failed Deals Slow the Resurrection of Underground,” Walter Woods, Rodney Ho, the AJC, May 12, 2004, C1
[29] “Underground’s New Vibe – Downtown District’s Hopes Ride with Six New Nightclubs Opening in Kenny’s Alley,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, December 15, 2004, E1.
[30] https://www.upi.com/Archives/1989/06/15/Underground-Atlanta-opens-despite-downpour/2382613886400/
[31] https://www.upi.com/Archives/1992/04/30/Gangs-rampage-through-downtown-Atlanta/4443704606400/
[32] “Underground Reinvents Itself as Hipper, but Safer – Changes Include Later Bar Hours, a Police Precinct,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, December 15, 2004, A1
[33] “Underground After Dark – Plan to Make Downtown Attraction a Center of Night Life Sparks Excitement,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, January 28, 2004, C1
[34] “Failed Deals Slow the Resurrection of Underground,” Walter Woods, Rodney Ho, the AJC, May 12, 2004, C1
[35] “Underground’s New Vibe – Downtown District’s Hopes Ride with Six New Nightclubs Opening in Kenny’s Alley,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, December 15, 2004, E1.
[36] “Failed Deals Slow the Resurrection of Underground,” Walter Woods, Rodney Ho, the AJC, May 12, 2004, C1
[37] Legal Notices, the Atlanta Journal Constitution, December 9, 2004, E3
[38] Legal Notices, the Atlanta Journal Constitution, December 9, 2004, E3
[39] Taken from https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/106833946/michael-e.-kenny
[40] “Underground’s New Vibe – Downtown District’s Hopes Ride with Six New Nightclubs Opening in Kenny’s Alley,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, December 15, 2004, E1.
[41] “Lookin’ for Life at Underground – Third Assembly of Clubs Hasn’t Managed to Charm Huge Crowds Back into Downtown for Late-night Frolic,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, March 9, 2006, F1
[42] “A New Way to Live the Suite Life,” Shannon Behnken, the Tampa Tribune, February 1, 2003, Page 21 (really page 1)
[43] Behnken
[44] “Taking off the Mask,” Jonathan Milton, Tampa Bay Times, February 28, 2003, page 74 (9)
[45] “Ybor’s Masquerade Brightens Up,” Shannon Behnken, the Tampa Tribune, April 12, 2003, 43 (11)
[46] “Cuisine Scene: Paradise City has Something for Everybody,” H.M. Cauley, the AJC, August 19, 2004, JH11
[47] “Underground Club Update: The Future is Being Pushed Back,” Rodney Ho, the AJC, August 13, 2004, B2
[48] “Cuisine Scene: Paradise City has Something for Everybody,” H.M. Cauley, the AJC, August 19, 2004, JH11
Painted Black 