Unscene Issue 3 Excerpt: Oh, We So Back
“If you can’t get dinner after nine o’clock, are we even in a city?”
That’s what Malia Spanyol, owner of Mother and Parkside, asked me when we sat down in a quiet corner of Mother to talk about changes in the scene this May.
No San Franciscan would be surprised to hear that in recent years, especially after COVID-related flight from the city and mounting costs on small businesses, previously bustling nightlife corridors tend to go quiet after midnight.
So where has the nightlife gone? With bar and club classics like Double Dutch, Beauty Bar, Love and Propaganda, and a slew of other establishments sharing notices to close what seems like every other day, it begs the question: have San Franciscans lost their will to party?
The answer is a resounding no, but it’s clear it’s more difficult to get someone out and excited today than yesterday, and it requires a different pull. I spoke with Spanyol, who has owned and operated local hotspots since buying Pop’s on 24th street in 2003, about the shift.
According to her, the change in attitude towards nightlife is mostly due to the intense gentrification and post-COVID fallout the city experienced. When the folks that actually make a city fun, AKA the people with the “shitty jobs” are priced out, “you lose culture” says Spanyol. It’s the same phenomenon that Monk’s Kettle pointed to in interviews while announcing the closing of their 16th and Valencia location; without the consistent after-hours crowd coming in after their industry shifts, the hours that hotspots can stay open and generate revenue become more and more limited. The effect snowballs even more when the city-dwellers who are still standing after the inflated price of living prefer to have dinner and drinks delivered instead of getting outside. It’s not just the degradation of older establishments falling away, but of entire neighborhoods. We tend to miss that the pulse of nightlife is also meaningfully tied to the safety and general public health of an area:
“SF forgets that these places that are open late keep at-risk neighborhoods safe, because it creates traffic and forces cleanliness.”
So while broad trends of less drinking amongst younger generations and a more “to themselves” tendency pervades among those still in the city, local nightlife is forced to continue changing to meet evolving desires and is often forced to shut down in the process of playing catch-up to new tastes.
It’s a game of change, of listening, and beyond all else “constant pivoting,” says Spanyol.
And for those that are listening carefully and can move fast enough to catch the wave of change, the undercurrent seems to be a revival of community and connection.
Rewind, an electronic dance music production group focused on bringing energetic high quality DJ sets to San Francisco and Los Angeles, speaks exactly to that desire.. They describe themselves in three words: sound, energy, and community.
Since Raheem launched Rewind with a friend four months ago, they’ve been through ups and downs, exploring more typical bar or club events with big name artists (who brought surprisingly low energy crowds) to small local indie bands and DJ collabs with electric dynamics. Based on the hundred-person waitlist for their most recent show, they’ve finally found it. In early June, Rewind hosted a renegade in a San Francisco cave and despite the ordeal of waiting hours for the sun (and patrol officers) to set before hauling a generator down, Raheem is glowing with the after effects of creating an authentic space for joy and connection on the dancefloor.
“The vibes were incredible at the cave rave because the quality of people that are committed to an event like that weeds out folks who just show up on weekends out of obligation. No one was on their phone or talking, it was pure dancing.”
Despite the differences in the two scenes, Malia Spanyol echoed the importance of a clear community to generate excitement — it’s what’s really resonating at her newest bar, Mother. Mother is one of the only femme queer spaces in the Mission, throwing parties like their annual prom and free “Get Strong With Gays” strength classes.
“I have it easy at Mother because the draw is the community. This is the only dyke bar and everyone across the new wave techies and old timers gathers here because it’s a safe and exciting place to be.”
Nightlife enables us to reveal our truest, messiest selves without remorse or shame. Beyond having an excellent cocktail or an interesting new set, San Franciscans are craving connection and the spaces that are conducive to community will persist.
