Roxy music (original) (raw)

London calling ... The Clash in 1979. Photograph: Roger Ressmeyer

It might still get you assaulted for saying so, but in 1977 the Covent Garden nightclub the Roxy was to the nascent punk scene what the Cavern was to the birth of Merseybeat. While the Roxy provided the same kind of immediacy and spatial awareness as New York's legendary CBGB, however, you won't see its logo on any T-shirts in Topman this week. As punk historian Jon Savage remarked in his landmark England's Dreaming 15 years ago: "The Roxy had an instant self-consciousness: it was obvious to everyone that the space would not last long and that history was up for grabs."

The space did not last long: 100 nights to be precise. But this short spell of phlegm and pogo-ing is now the subject of a new book by slogging punk archivist Paul Marko, The Roxy London WC2, which explores the club's understated impact on an entire generation.

At the heart of Marko's account is the Roxy's promoter, Andy Czezowski, a veteran of the London rock scene who spotted the potential of a dive venue in the then seedy Covent Garden. By opening his doors to groups who had been banned from other venues, Czezowski gave punk both a home base and a rallying point. The club also helped to develop punk's visual identity, and its pioneering flyers were the first to use the now familiar cut and paste lettering.

One of the club's first events was a gala performance on New Year's Day, 1977, headlined by the Clash. A rapid succession of pivotal acts followed in the months to come, including the Slits, the Buzzcocks and even the Heartbreakers. Within an incredibly short space of time, the Roxy established itself as the incubator of an entire musical movement.

As well as promoting punk, the club also worked to break up and intermingle established musical genres. A fusion of punk and reggae came about from the fact that resident club DJ Don Letts had no actual punk records to play between sets, and was forced - with unexpected success - to fall back on his reggae vinyl. Another intriguing musical meeting was not to be, however - a projected double bill featuring Siouxsie and the Banshees and Iron Maiden was cancelled by the metallers.

Yet it was the sheer marketability of onstage hormones that would soon usher in the club's demise. Eager to cash in on the venue's success, the owners sold the Roxy to a no-nonsense East End gangland group and cynically turfed out Czezowski. Today it is a rather unassuming boutique, nestled quietly in the commercial Mecca of contemporary Covent Garden.

Czezowski would move on to other things, finding similar success with the Fridge in Brixton, which likewise played an integral role in London clubland as part of both post-punk and acid house during the 1980s. The Sex Pistols at the 100 Club will probably remain rooted in lore as the defining moment when punk broke, but for the more prosaic business of running a club and selling history to willing punters, as taken up by the likes of Shoom and Spectrum a decade later, The Roxy remains where the first flyer was printed.