They don’t have enough parking, and they shouldn’t because what idiot drinks and drives? If you go to Lavington Business Hub on any night starting Thursday, you will find it sardine-packed. A great number of my friends frequently go to Club 213. It’s to them what Club 1824 was to millennials (and maybe GenZs?). Club 213 has some sort of a cultic following.
I was there when it opened some moons ago and never quite went back until recently. They have extended the space and the bar is bigger but even then it still gets so full some people sit outside. The music they play is the music of the past generation; New Jack Swing, some soul, rock sometimes.
I was there with one of my friends who ran a bar that went tits up. I studied him looking around the throng of people, perhaps wondering, ‘How on earth do they do this? What do customers want?” We discussed the phenomenon of 213-like spies.
Truth is, nobody will ever use the word “swanky” or “swish” to describe Club213. It’s essentially a local bar in a great address. What it is is authentic, and unpretentious. “I think all these people have gathered here because of nostalgia,” I told my friend.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “It has to be something more because I played this kind of music in my bar.”
“Then it’s black magic,” I said. “Sorcery.”
He chuckled. “Some people just have the Midas touch of business,” he resigned. “Just like some people can plant anything and it grows while others will even kill a succulent.”
Anyhow, there should be a study done on the roaring success of Club 213. Sure, the music is fantastic and I hear the meat is great but many clubs have that. I think it’s the camaraderie of the kids born in the late 70s and early 80s. I think we find safety in numbers against the knowledge that we are not getting any younger and our spaces are slowly being taken by younger folks. Club 213 isn’t a club, it’s a therapy session.
