Still Finding Itself, But Aren’t We All?

by Courtney Mumma

The Tonic Lounge has it’s own parking lot lit by a huge neon sign with a light-board marquis like the one my elementary school had announcing honor rolls, team sports, and parent-teacher conferences. It took a while for me to get through the front door, because, nowadays, when I’m confronted by a parking lot, images are conjured up of SUPERstores and malls, and I’d often just as well rather be ignorant of the business necessitating the multiple spaces. It took a friend’s band playing there to get past all that.
Once inside, I found that the Tonic is an apocalyptic Applebee’s. It’s as if someone exorcised all the crazy crap on the walls and restaurant gear, smiling wait staff, and jalapeno poppers, leaving only the dimly lit booths, wooden chairs, and surly(1) bartenders as evidence of its suburbo-demonic predecessor. Have no fear, the presence of all things soccer mom has been successfully removed or covered over by black paint.
There are two sections. The Fireside Lounge is for drinking and hanging out without having to pay for the show. There’s a nice horseshoe bar, two cozy fireplaces, and a weird huge castle-type table in the middle for when you have a bunch of friends with you(2). The jukebox is in this room, and, although I can’t promote it in good conscience, I’ve appreciated the opportunity it’s given me to sing Kiss songs unabashedly after knocking a few back and to argue with complete strangers about the relevancy of The Cult.
The side with the stage is equipped with booths, some chairs and bar tables, another large bar complete with tender, and an open “dance”(3) floor. The shows are often local. In fact, I’ve found over the past few years that the Tonic is a kind of rite of passage for Portland musicians, especially those who are not affiliated with any other popular bands, their members, or socially influential fans. Read: it’s not that hard to get a show there. The sound, by a friendly fellow named Neil, is good, and the place has nice acoustics. Expect to pay five to seven bucks for three or four lesser-known bands, pricing I find a little high(4). However, I’ve recently discovered that every third Thursday is Therapy night, which is a free night of local DJs and dancing, with the music even piped into the Fireside Lounge.
While it still hasn’t defined itself completely--there are service industry nights, theme nights like Boggle and arm wrestling (Brains and Brawn on December 5), and viewings of Mr. Show’s first season--the Tonic is slowly emerging as a little oasis on Sandy for the working class eccentric. Nothing says DIY TGI Friday’s like red and orange flames painted on the wall behind the pool tables.(5)
They actually still have jalapeno poppers.
  • 1 “Surly” as used here generally applies to bartenders everywhere, anywhere, and this author assumes will eventually be inherent in the mention of the word “bartender”, therefore rendering it an unnecessary adjective. These bartenders are certainly not unique to the Tonic.
  • 2 By no means does this author suggest that you may not sit at this large table if you are a party of three or less. Let her suggest, however, that if you do this while the place is full, you are probably an asshole or a group of them.
  • 3 Quotation marks here indicate that the author has no idea whether anyone actually dances in this space, as I have personally never witnessed it, unless you count head jerking at various speeds and in random directions.
  • 4 The author believes strongly that if one must be 21 to see a local show in a bar, and it’s likely that most patrons will drink 2 or 3 drinks, anything over $3 is unreasonable and excessive. Plus, she’s cheap and wants more bang for her buck.
  • 5 The author cannot resist sarcasm.

    The Tonic is located at 3100 NE Sandy. It’s open 5PM-2AM daily. To book a show, call Dave Scott at 503-239-5154 or e-mail him at tonicloungebooking@hotmail.com. For show listings call 503-238-0543 or check your weekly for their ad.