Bamboo Nightclub Tribute

Walking through the hidden entrance off of Queen Street West, you suddenly feel as though you are leaving the busy city and entering into a Caribbean Oasis. As you walk past the bouncers stand decorated with grass from a hula dancers skirt and nod to the man inside, you begin to look around. Within a few steps you are surrounded by an abundance of bamboo, flowers of all colours and sorts, you can hear the resident birds chirping and you can see them bathing in the water fountain named “Lake O’Brien”. The hostess, decorated with blue hair or dreads, seats you either in the spacious club, cozy dining room or famous patio. The diverse serving staffs are buzzing all around; spreading the aromas of the food you are anxiously awaiting to tantalize your taste buds. After a short wait, a man with a Hawaiian shirt, black shorts, white socks stretched high and black dress shoes, approaches you and memorizes your order. As he wisps back with two Red Stripes in hand and drops them off in front of you, you watch him. It looks as though his is the host of a great backyard party with guests from every corner in the world. Everyone knows his name and laughs at his jokes. He is someone who is making sure that your Thai spicy noodles are hot, margaritas are cold and you are enjoying the full experience of the Bamboo. As Toronto has been informed, the Bamboo club on Queen Street has shut its doors on October 31st 2002. After nearly twenty years of entertaining and feeding people from all over the world with live bands and Caribbean curry chicken, the Bamboo deserves a tribute and a thank you for the good times had by all.
On August 26 1983, Sean Penn was engaged to Madonna, Bay and Bloor radios were selling Sony walkmans for $499,95, Tom Cruise was dancing in his underwear on the big screen in Risky Business, a woman got fired from her job for suggesting that her workplace become a non-smoking environment and fur was being worn without protester’s red paint stains. Restaurants were nothing but traditional and elegant… until Patti Habib and Richard O’Brien decided to turn an old warehouse that sold wicker goods into a restaurant where bohemian denizens could enjoy cutting edge music and Thai-Caribbean fare. During this time, Queen street was home to independent stores, art galleries and shops, the only other restaurants that existed on the street were greasy spoons and Peter Pan, the cheap rent attracted starving artists and it was a place that “normal” people avoided-afraid they would be seen as lacking in charm or originality. Bamboo served mostly Caribbean food until Wandee Young (now the owner of three most favoured Thai food restaurants in Toronto) became the head cook and she was able to mix in a number of Thai treats. Bamboo slowly made a name for itself over the years as more and more people were able to actually find the place, experience how relaxed and diverse the clientele and staff were, taste how scrumptious the food was and how great the live bands were. The Bamboo had it all- and as the word spread, it was known to be the “cornerstone of Queen Street” and “the hottest ticket in town”.
Over the years, numerous bands were able to grace the stage at the Bamboo. It was a venue for the best African music in Toronto, as well as Reggae, Jazz, R&B, Rock, Punk, Techno and Hip Hop. Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Erikah Baddu, The Stones, Chester Miller, the Satelites, Eek a Mouse, Desree, Jackie Richardson just to name a few, played there before and/or after they hit it big. The musical guests were just as diverse as the crowds every night. On any odd night you might find Harrison Ford shooting back tequila in search of some smoke, Sean Penn hanging out in the staff washroom, Edward Norton looking for an after-hours party, David Bowie throwing a private party on the rooftop patio even Robin Williams, Mel Gibson or Timothy Leary would stop by every so often to say hello to Patti and a pint.
The hospitality jobs are said to have a very high turn over rate. The Bamboo is quite the exception, the staff never seemed as though they wanted to leave. With servers, bartenders, cooks and managers who have been there since they opened their doors about twenty years ago. This may have been because the Bamboo was the anti-thesis of corporate, and so much trust was given to each staff member. Everyone was free to be himself or herself while at work, they were free to make themselves as comfortable as possible. To hold the freedom to have a glass of wine after a tough shift or the ability to change the inside of the boiler into your own personal den with your T.V. canvas and paints, feels like your work “ain’t that bad” after all. It seems as though each staff member was personally hand picked to add to the atmosphere of the club, each of him or her were so different and diverse. From dreads to buzz cuts, from 10 facial peircings to baby bottom smooth, from Costa Rica or Manchester to born and bread right here in Toronto.

The Bamboo was more than just a club with great food, great people and great music. It was an escape from the city, a home away from home and, excuse the cliché; it was a place where everyone knew your name. It had a unique atmosphere and it was dedicated to serving its diverse clientele. On Saturday afternoons, there would be kids raves, where parents would bring their children to dance the day away while they mingled and maybe even hooked up. Every year Bamboo was the kick off spot for Caribanna. The club would be smoking hot (they did not believe in air conditioning because that would defy the “tropical oasis” theme), bodies would be jammed from wall to wall, dancing to amazing soca and reggae. The man with the bell would always be there ringing away, the crowd would be spraying their water bottles to cool each other off, the bar would be slammed and the bartenders, feeling a little tipsy, would be dancing while pouring and smiling at their tip jars. The roof top patio was infamous to Torontonians. Walking up the creaking stairs to a roof top patio smothered in Barbara Klunder’s art, the aroma of Stash’s flying fish sandwiches would make your stomach rumble and your mouth seriously crave a Corona. The atmosphere was so hectic but yet so relaxed. Men with their pant legs rolled up trying to get some colour, women soaking in the sun right next to them with strawberry daiquiris in hand and the sweet smell of ganga would arise from the far left corner under the Evian umbrellas. The memories from over the years, spoken from the thousands of guests who would visit time and time again, are to many to condense, but they are all sprinkled with the same feeling- the Bamboo was a damn good getaway and an even better host.