Gary Topp ran the Roxy Theatre on Danforth Avenue in the 1970s when the lineups snaked out the door and around the corner. Topp stands in front of the boarded up Toronto landmark on April 17, 2008, before it was eventually purchased and turned into a convenience store.Yvonne Berg/The Globe and Mail
A stylish new book chronicles the impact of Toronto concert promoter and scene starter Gary Topp, who with his partners and collaborators vitalized the city’s artistic landscape in the 1970s and 80s. An oral history in a lavish coffee-table book format, He Hijacked My Brain celebrates the daring entrepreneurship in film and music presentation that ushered in an underground component to a city whose culture was crying out to be countered.
Topp and his cronies accomplished a lot in a short time – they had the weirdoes’ indefatigable energy to go along with the unprecedented ideas. From them came the all-night movie marathons at the Roxy, the Ramones’ ground-breaking three nights at the New Yorker theatre on Yonge Street – “punk rock surfaces here,” a Toronto Sun headline noted in 1976 – and the Police Picnic festivals in the 1980s.
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Just how did they pull it off?
They were stoned.
“I think pot and hash fuelled my creativity,” Topp says today. “What we did each night was unique. I wanted people to experience something that was different.”
We’re standing outside of what used to be the Roxy, a movie theatre that stood at 1215 Danforth Ave., in the city’s east end. Topp says when the doors to the auditorium opened on busy nights back then, a cloud of dope smoke rushed out. Today, the aroma is coffee, crullers and bygones.
Gary Topp with his wife, Heather Topp. Mr. Topp and fellow collaborators helped bring a series of all-night movie marathons to the Roxy and was behind a ground-breaking three night performance by the Ramones at the New Yorker theatre on Yonge Street. in the 1970s.Supplied
The marquee and the ticket booth remain, but the shell of the building now contains a convenience store, next to an Esso gas station. What used to be the film theatre’s concession stand is now a Tim Hortons counter. Topp used to charge 99 cents for movies such as John Waters’s Pink Flamingos. Dollars to donuts, literally.
In the old Roxy promotional posters, it was specified that the theatre was exactly 243 steps from the Greenwood subway stop. “Giant steps,” Topp says, conjuring images of Robert Crumb’s old Keep On Truckin’ cartoon. “I counted them myself. But I was smaller then.”
Archival photographs in the book confirm the opposite: The big bushel of curls on his young head added inches to his modest stature. The former bohemian’s hair is now flat, white and trim. An avid walker, he looks great for 79.
He Hijacked My Brain is published by Toronto’s UXB Press, a boutique operation also responsible for Tomorrow is Too Late: Toronto Hardcore Punk in the 1980s and Eve of Darkness: Toronto Heavy Metal in the 1980s. What Topp and his collaborators accomplished is told through their own memories and the testimonials of fans and musicians who remember the era fondly.
Topp and and his at the time trademark bushel of curls on his young head appears in some of the many archival photos collected for the book.Supplied
“As a teenager, the Roxy represented absolute freedom,” former staffer Randy Tyrrell recalls in the book. “No parents around, no police, and cool people.”
Singer Carole Pope of the Toronto art-punk icons Rough Trade is also quoted. The band, which released its breakthrough hit High School Confidential in 1981, played their debut concert eight years earlier at the Roxy. “Gary had seen us rehearse and liked us enough to give us our first break,” says Pope.
The title of the book comes from David Kingston, a former CKLN-FM radio host who recalls a far-out show by the experimentalist bandleader Sun Ra at the Horseshoe Tavern in 1978: “It was certainly a life-changing moment. Gary hijacked my brain that night.”
Topp likes the quote, but isn’t so sure of its accuracy.
“Everything we did was just for the love of it,” he says. “It was a community service, and we were trying to make a living. There wasn’t any actual hijacking.”
Topp moved on from the Roxy in 1976 and partnered with Gary Cormier. Known as the Garys, they presented cutting-edge music and films at other venues, starting with the New Yorker, at 651 Yonge St. There they presented not only the Ramones but such acts as jazzer Cecil Taylor, budding rockers Max Webster and the hipsters’ darling, Tom Waits (who insisted on a gram of cocaine before performing).
Today the New Yorker is the CAA Theatre, leased by commercial theatre presenters Mirvish Productions. The building is slated for redevelopment at some point, and the old Roxy on the Danforth is just a facade of its former self. Topp, who still promotes occasional concerts in the city, occasionally sees the effect of what he accomplished, presented in subtle flashes.
“I think what we did all translated to a better and more open-minded city,” he says, standing in front what is left of the Roxy. “And when I see an 80-year-old woman with pink hair coming out of a Holt Renfrew today, I’m reminded that what we did was right.”
