About a million early-80s bucks were tossed into creating the stupefying 24-hour Lux complex at 5220 St Lawrence where you could get a drink, munch fries, peer at magazines and buy oddball doodads... although in truth you'd more likely just mill about amid fellow scenesters also not spending a dime.
The artily-designed multi-purpose facility was bankrolled by thirtysomething physician Dr. Jean-Marie Labrousse and whipped into shape by designer Luc Laporte in 1983 and soon became a defining spot for its era but was, alas, never a lucrative venture.
The restaurant was hampered by slow-arriving waiters with a low threshold of tolerance for nightowl spendthrifts who descended on the place after the energy of the evening had sputtered out.
The bright, multi-level cavernous place – almost overwhelmed by a pair of industrial curved staircases - struggled from the outset as 4 a.m diners betrayed the magnificence of the environment by drunkenly thumbing through cheapie menu options after blowing their wad in bars down the road.
Quirky items such as toothpaste from Italy, toast with Cheez Whiz and a 50-cent vitamins didn't prove to be hot sellers but a visit was an occasional mandatory pilgrimage. Spenders were few. Fashionable loiterers posing as consumers were many.
3:15 a.m. alternatives offered less bang for the non-buck: Lola's Paradise (3604) down the Main required you to make a purchase and attempt coherent chit chat.
But at Lux you could stand for an eternity basking in flattering halogen lamps flipping through Vogue and Details without the customary magazine store cashier raising an eyebrow after 20 minutes of reading.
The copper-green metallic circus was set in a semi-no-man's-land of the Main near Fairmount, a remote spot during a time when nightclub poles were anchored by Business and Di Salvio's closer to Sherbrooke.
Hungry nightbirds (nobody would go to Lux before clubs closed) would usually hop from the cab further down at The Main for smoked meat or even Bagels Etc.
The end was clearly near when poetry reading sessions started in the bar upstairs during the endless early-90s recession. It closed in 1993 and is now used as arty office space.
Though it had its faults, Lux injected risk and imagination into a building where generations of garment workers spilled sacred blood from needle-pierced thumbs (previous building occupants included Kiddies Togs Manufacturing, Grand Cloak Manufacturing, Lyon Textiles and SW Sportswear) turning it into a loitering wonderland for 80s scenesters.
The artily-designed multi-purpose facility was bankrolled by thirtysomething physician Dr. Jean-Marie Labrousse and whipped into shape by designer Luc Laporte in 1983 and soon became a defining spot for its era but was, alas, never a lucrative venture.The restaurant was hampered by slow-arriving waiters with a low threshold of tolerance for nightowl spendthrifts who descended on the place after the energy of the evening had sputtered out.
The bright, multi-level cavernous place – almost overwhelmed by a pair of industrial curved staircases - struggled from the outset as 4 a.m diners betrayed the magnificence of the environment by drunkenly thumbing through cheapie menu options after blowing their wad in bars down the road.
Quirky items such as toothpaste from Italy, toast with Cheez Whiz and a 50-cent vitamins didn't prove to be hot sellers but a visit was an occasional mandatory pilgrimage. Spenders were few. Fashionable loiterers posing as consumers were many.3:15 a.m. alternatives offered less bang for the non-buck: Lola's Paradise (3604) down the Main required you to make a purchase and attempt coherent chit chat.
But at Lux you could stand for an eternity basking in flattering halogen lamps flipping through Vogue and Details without the customary magazine store cashier raising an eyebrow after 20 minutes of reading.
The copper-green metallic circus was set in a semi-no-man's-land of the Main near Fairmount, a remote spot during a time when nightclub poles were anchored by Business and Di Salvio's closer to Sherbrooke.Hungry nightbirds (nobody would go to Lux before clubs closed) would usually hop from the cab further down at The Main for smoked meat or even Bagels Etc.
The end was clearly near when poetry reading sessions started in the bar upstairs during the endless early-90s recession. It closed in 1993 and is now used as arty office space.
Though it had its faults, Lux injected risk and imagination into a building where generations of garment workers spilled sacred blood from needle-pierced thumbs (previous building occupants included Kiddies Togs Manufacturing, Grand Cloak Manufacturing, Lyon Textiles and SW Sportswear) turning it into a loitering wonderland for 80s scenesters.
I used to love going and buying a few magazines sitting and eating ....great atmosphere and the food was great....very much missed by Montrealers ...was a great destination daytime and at 3 am...it was the original after hours party...sans alcohol :-)
ReplyDelete5220 is now Fly Studio. i deliver there all the time, interesting to know the backstory of the building. they still have huge magazine racks, maybe to pay tribute to lux.
ReplyDeleteYes, they did have a good magazine selection.
ReplyDeleteThe place is immortalized in that classic eighties film "Crazy Moon" (where Keifer Sutherland plays the good guy, and Vanessa Vaughn plays his girlfriend). It's a film about Montreal, but I'm not sure if that was intentional. Lots of landmarks, even if there's no bus route on that street, and that street doesn't actually turn onto that road. Lux is just one of the places visited, but it's there.
Michael
Thanks for the reference. I didn't think it survived in film anywhere. I feared I'd only have my memory to rely on...
DeleteNice one Michael! Lots of scenes shot in Verdun and downtown Montreal.
ReplyDeleteDeep and penetrating nostalgia Kristian. Certainly not rewardingly memorable for historical merit, but definitely worthy of remembering and contemplating great past times.
ReplyDeleteYour creative presentation is commendable.
I remember taking a (less artistically pretentious) friend of mine late one night. He was in the habit of ordering multiple plates of food after a night of beers, so he looked at the Lux menu and ordered the hamburger. Eventually the waiter brings (I swear)something the size of a small, flat meatball on a dry english muffin, accompanied by a small pot each of dijon and mayo. There was a small American flag on a toothpick stuck in the top bun. My buddy's head fell, and he uttered the most heartfelt, "what the f--- is that?!" I still laugh about it.
ReplyDeleteI was a regular at LUX. I loved it.
ReplyDeleteAt one time, I would go in for supper after my shift as a waiter, sometime around 3:30-4 AM. You could get German beer on tap and fries with real mayonnaise - an oddity at the time.
There was a girl I knew in university who could raise the temperature just by walking in the room. About a year or two after graduation, I was giving some colleagues visiting from Vancouver a tour of Montreal. We sat down for a bite, and I realised she was sitting a few tables away. I asked her to join us, and as we chatted like old friends, I introduced the hottest woman in the room (no mean feat at the LUX) to my stunned guests. It earned me a lot of admiration.
The main reason for the ecclectic things on sale (bags of potatoes, cigars, and t-shirts?) was that the owners were combining what was allowed under a variety of by-laws to ensure they could stay open 24hrs. The only restriction they couldn't dodge meant the upstairs bar had to close for a few hours after 2. The rest of the place could stay open.
I miss the LUX.