Creatures of the night flock to A Club Called Rhonda
There are many potential hazards any time A Club Called Rhonda takes over Silver Lake’s El Cid dinner club, and most of them are of the typical sex-drugs-and-disco variety. But cofounder, host and visual designer Gregory Alexander never anticipated bodily injury as one of them.
“The line to get out was so long that I tried to hop the fence in my high heels,” he said, shaking his head disdainfully. “I broke my ankle and [pop singer] Sam Sparro had to carry me out. I was on crutches for the next two Rhondas.”
FOR THE RECORD:
A Club Called Rhonda: A Nov. 5 Calendar article about A Club Called Rhonda implied that one of the organizers and the booker of the club, Alexis Rivera, was an original creator of the club. He joined in October 2009 after two previous partners left. Additionally, Rivera was quoted as saying the reaction of Daft Punk to the club was “Wow, we never thought we’d see anything like this in L.A.” It was actually the reaction of the band’s manager. —
Note how a fracture didn’t keep the 25-year-old from the floor of the polysexual monthly dance club night, whose wildly costumed patrons render the term “LGBT” a quaint and insufficient acronym.
For regulars to the club every second Saturday of the month, the ferociously indulgent pleasures offered by Rhonda are worth all kinds of calamities.
“We’ve had people tell us ‘I lost my job because of you guys’,” said 26-year-old resident DJ Loren Granic. “A girl once came in a wheelchair a week after her surgery. We’re not destructive people, but we believe in the power of hedonism.”
For Alexander, Granic and Alexis Rivera (who handles much of the club’s booking, and manages experimental dance bands such as Bonde do Role and We Are the World), unapologetic indulgence is a value system all its own. The three hosted the first Rhonda in 2008 at the Guatelinda Nightclub near Barnsdall Park in east Hollywood. The goal was to create a space safe for clubland abandon, classic and bleeding-edge dance music, and to crack the implicit barriers between gay and straight nightlife in L.A.
“The diversity of L.A. really wasn’t reflected in its nightlife,” said Granic. “I’m straight and Greg is gay and he’s been my best friend for years, and I just wanted to see all my friends at once with the common denominator of getting loose.” He lamented that so much mainstream dance music like that of Tiësto is claimed by, as he put it, “meatheads who would frown on dancing with gay men.” Alexander wanted to remind his peers that “gay men aren’t the only people out there” on the nightlife circuit.
Thus was born A Club Called Rhonda and its titular character, a kind of fictional Royal We for the trio who write their newsletters in the voice of a brassy, lusty moll. Promotional posters featured a cryptic, enticing pair of female (maybe?) legs and a litany of absurdist bad advice such as “Take pills and go scuba diving.”
With Rivera’s booking savvy and a move to the flamenco dinner club El Cid, the trio began landing their desired crowd, which Granic describes as “flaming nightlife creatures and superhot chicks.” They also started drawing top-flight house and techno artists such as Todd Edwards, Juan MacLean, Metro Area and Nicky Siano, thus establishing a reputation as a rowdier alternative to the Avalon and Vanguard, L.A.’s two main bastions of electronica.
“When we had Todd Edwards spin, the guys from Daft Punk came out to see him,” Rivera said. ‘They told me, ‘Wow, we never thought we’d see anything like this in L.A.’”
Even when such DJs can command bigger paychecks at larger venues (El Cid’s capacity is in the very low three figures), Rhonda promises something flintier — spectacles reminiscent of the New York club Paradise Garage that drew many of them to electronic music in the first place. Most recently, the three threw an off-site edition of Rhonda with James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem and the principals of Hot Chip on the decks at a downtown warehouse — mere hours after their headlining performance at the Hollywood Bowl.
“Rhonda is definitely one of the best parties in Los Angeles, and maybe even the country,” said Paul Tao, general manager of local indie label IAMSOUND Records and a Rhonda regular. “This is what clubs must have felt like back when electronic music was more underground and was only big with techno geeks and gays.”
Of course, three years is a geological age in L.A. nightlife. Even as the Rhonda founders make expansionist gestures — including a forthcoming limited-run record label of 12-inch singles, Rhonda International, with financial underwriting from car company Scion — they admit they have to work to keep their intentions intact. “We’re so careful to preserve the mix of gay, straight, crazy and curious,” said Granic.
But there’s another thing the trio also have to worry about preserving: their own livers.
“Me and Loren are always the hardest-partying people in the venue,” Alexander admitted. “It took us a few nights to learn where to draw the line. But people always told us that Rhonda would be pleased.”
A Club Called Rhonda
Where: El Cid, 4212 W. Sunset Blvd., L.A.
When: Nov. 13, 9 p.m.-3 a.m.
Price: $10, must be 21 or older
Info: www.rhondasays.net
