In The Vogue: Alternative Club Is Still Breaking New Ground

The Vogue, 2018 First Ave. Monday, reggae, Tuesday and Wednesday, live alternative rock, Thursday ladies night, Friday and Saturday, alternative dance music, Sunday dance music. Cover varies. 443-0673. --------------------------------------------------------------- The Vogue stands like a dark, silent sentry on the fringe of Belltown. An ancient stack of bricks held together by the sweat of ghosts and a thousand coats of paint. It would appear abandoned were it not for the thin pink neon sign that glows above the door and the steady stream of stragglers and scene makers who slip in and out the narrow portal.

The Vogue is an institution, as unlikely sounding a title as you could hang on the longest-running alternative music venue in Seattle, the daddy/mommy of them all.

A hotel built at the turn of the century, the structure passed through various hands and incarnations over the years. In the very early 1980s it was a leather bar. It changed hands in 1983 and became The Rex. A year later under new ownership, Erin McKiernan, Ted Ladd and Alan Lucier, it was renamed The Vogue and the basic, still present look and style was established: modern music and videos, a tight little box of noise and angst and abandon. It became a subcultural magnet for homies and visitors alike. A beacon lit by the glow of cigarettes, an over-amplified siren of synthesizers, drums and guitars. Current owner Matt Basta took over in 1988 and the attitude continued.

Over the years it seems that everyone even remotely connected with Seattle's alternative music scene has done time at The Vogue. Jennifer Jackson, who began booking the live music nights in February, first worked the door three years ago.

"You name 'em, they've worked here," says Jackson. "Bruce Pavitt (co-owner of Sub Pop records) worked here. The Swedish Housewife (Paula Sjunnson) started acid house night. Monny says it was the first acid house dance party on the West Coast."

The "Monny" Jackson refers to is co manager Monny Rybicki, a former sailor in a leather skirt who came to the club in 1984. Shawna Holts is the other half of the team.

"Basically I'm the baby-sitter," says Rybicki. "I'm always here." Jackson calls Rybicki The Vogue's figurehead.

"Everyone in the country knows who Monny is," says Jackson laughing. "They call up looking to book their bands and they always ask, `Is that guy in the dress still there?' Monny is The Vogue."

Currently The Vogue's biggest nights are reggae on Monday - which Jackson says the club inherited from the now-defunct Belltown chapter of Tugs - and Thursdays. "Ladies night," she explains. "And our Friday and Saturday alternative music nights are very strong." She credits DJs Ross Bostwick and Randy Carter. "Ross is on top of everything. If it's new, we've got it. Plus were the only club in town with a DJ seven nights a week."

The only weak nights The Vogue has had to contend with of late are the live music nights. Jackson is determined to turn that around.

"It's my goal," she says emphatically. "Hey, people are telling me I'm crazy, maybe I am, but I want to do it. Everybody that's out there now has played here. Soundgarden, Primus, Tad, Mudhoney, Alice in Chains. It's rumored Nirvana played one of it's first gigs here."

But the recent explosion of club activity in Seattle took some of The Vogue's steam away. The competition has greatly increased, and other rooms simply hold more people.

"It's like anything else," says Jackson, "sometimes you're in, sometimes you're out. But we've broken a lot of ground here, The Vogue has always been a innovator, whether it's doing '60s psychedelia or acid house or squirt gun night."

Jackson is both looking to bring back former headliners and scanning the nation for new acts. Tad recently remounted The Vogue stage as has the Mono Men. Jackson is particularly happy with her Wednesday night lineup: Zipgun, self-described Cajun metal; NOFX, no-nonsense punk with a skewered sense of humor; and the headlining Treepeople, straight-ahead, grinding, melodic rock.

The Treepeople, originally from Idaho, are currently riding a high wave of critical and popular acclaim. They head out for their first national tour next Friday.

"It'll be packed," says Jackson.

And Rybicki, who actually directs new visitors to other venues if he feels The Vogue isn't right for them, takes the ebb and flow of the Seattle music scene in stride.

"We go through phases. I don't think people forget The Vogue, they just branch out. People will always check out the new places," he says.

"But they always seem to come back."