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[title]When Club 77 co-owner Dane Gorrel looked out at the glittering crowd partying on Mardi Gras weekend, he didn’t just see profits flowing after the wilderness of lockdowns. “There was this real sense of community coming back,” he says. “People were so happy hanging out with their friends where they feel safe and comfortable. They get to listen to music, see DJs and dance. Everyone’s just really excited to be out and about, expressing themselves freely.”
Reopening meant welcoming back a battalion of valued collaborators, like Peter Shopovski who runs the venue’s regular Sunday arvo LGBTIQA+ celebration the House of Mince, and Jamie Wirth who wrangles the Animal House parties. “While we were shut down, we were working with DJs and promoters to figure out our plan for the year, and we’ve got a pretty full calendar booked,” Gorrel says.
But it’s not just bartenders, security staff, DJs and the punters who benefit from Club 77’s return. An entire ecosystem revolves around the venue, including neighbouring business 77 convenience store. “If we’re not operating, those guys aren’t making any money,” Gorrel says. “If we run out of post-mix during the night, we can grab Coke or lemonade from them or an RCA cable. They take all our deliveries if we’re not here. They look after us very well, and vice versa.”
There was this real sense of community coming back
One of the most challenging aspects of firing up Club 77 was the short notice entertainment venues received. “We’ve been running pretty lean since we got shut down, so obviously the cash flow’s just not there,” Gorrel says. “And then you get told you can reopen within 24 hours, and you may have missed your main supplier’s cut-off.”
Luckily, Club 77 can lean on neighbours. “We have a really good relationship with a bottle shop called Liquor on Oxford, and they do us wholesale deals whenever we get stuck,” Gorrel says. “It’s not just a business relationship. There’s also a friendship there, so there’s that community spirit.”
Even with all the support in the world, starting from scratch to fully-stocked bars with no cash flow is tricky. “You’re trading your way out of it for the first two, maybe even three months,” he says.
Another major problem is the well-chronicled staff shortage. The late, irregular hours and fast-paced environment of late-night music venues can be a big ask and the reopening of international borders hasn’t necessarily led to an influx of working holiday visa-holders and students drawn towards this work. “It’s difficult to get to get bodies behind the bar and on the floor,” Gorrel confirms, adding that the life circumstances of some of his most trusted employees have also changed post-lockdown.
The concerted push by government and industry bodies like the Night Time Industries Association (NTIA) gives him hope things are changing for the better. “I was at a conference that NTIA put together that was part of the Sydney Fringe, and that turned into us managing some of the Fringe bars,” Gorrel says. “I’ve found their support amazing. So we’re really trying to cement ourselves within that community, working with as many people as possible to re-vitalise the city’s nightlife.”
Justine Baker, former CEO of Solotel Group, was appointed chair of NTIA after her predecessor (and former Time Out Australia managing director) Michael Rodrigues became NSW’s inaugural 24-hour economy commissioner, also known as the ‘night mayor’. She says that her determination to reboot the industry comes from a place of personal frustration. “I was almost embarrassed where Sydney had landed. We’ve pretty much had ten years of eroding our nightlife culture, so a bunch of us banded together to try to do things differently.”
Baker says one of the main challenges remains the fear-mongering hangover from lockout law days. “It became an accepted perception that it was a bloodbath on a Saturday night in Sydney, and it just wasn’t. So, we really had to break it down.”
From an industry perspective, that meant clear communication. “Culture, connection, experience, those things actually matter,” Baker says. “It’s also about employment.”
She argues that an entire generation has missed out on the city’s once-thriving live music scene. “The 28 year old who was 18 when they were first allowed to enter licenced premises has never experienced Sydney in its full glory. So I look at that as a real opportunity to reshape Sydney’s nightlife.”
And that means presenting a variety of experiences for all ages. Thankfully, the political will is finally there, Baker says. “There is absolutely a willingness, and there’s budget behind it, especially in government circles. We now have Mike’s well-funded office with money to spend really investing in nightlife across all sectors.”
Baker’s focused on restoring business and consumer confidence but says there’s still a way to go on cutting red tape. “We need long-term planning reform. When you sit down with an operator and go through the amount of documentation it takes for them to make one small change, let alone set up a new venue, it’s madness. It encourages a very risk-conscious mindset in the industry, where everyone’s a little bit fearful of doing a little bit too much in case they get shut down.”
Culture, connection, experience, those things actually matter
Back at Club 77, Gorrel feels optimistic about Sydney’s after-dark future. The new normal isn’t same-same for him, either. As of April, the venue will go seven days a week, opening from five o’clock in the afternoon to 4am, Monday to Friday. “There will be a food option coming on. We’re going to do one hot dog the best it can be done, and we’ve got a really good chef working on that."
He plans to invite community groups in to use the space during the day, plus other options to sustain Club 77. “We’re looking at getting a package liquor licence attached to our existing one so we can develop a range of bottled cocktails we’ll sell in-venue. They’re easier to serve without dedicated bartenders when we can’t find the staff, and we can build up a side-business selling them online.”
Just like the jubilant crowd that flocks to the House Of Mince parties, diversity wins. “It’s always going to be a nightclub,” Gorrel says, “But COVID helped us reshape where we want to go and what we want to do. It’s given us that kick up the arse, so to say.”