Franco Gagliano: My cousin was getting married and goes, “Let’s open a restau- rant.” We look everywhere with real estate, can’t find anything. So the (agent) goes, “I know this rock bar that the guy wants to sell it.” We go and I say, “Joe, I have fucking no idea what a rock bar is.” We walked in and the place was packed. And I see all those people moshing. At the time, I had a girlfriend back in Rochester, New York. I called her and said, “We’re buying this punk bar.” She fucking freaked out. “Do you know what punks are?” I said, “I don’t know, people dancing. But they bring a lot of money at the register?” New owners and sounds After buying Mason Jar Lounge in in the early ’80s, Gagliano and his late cousin, Joe Tomaselli, made changes. They remodeled the bathrooms, moved the stage and upgraded equipment. They also shook up the club’s bookings, leading to friction. Payne: We were (booked) there at the time it changed hands. That was kind of a mess. We were booked usually for a week, like a Tuesday through Saturday. It changed, though, after Franco took it over and he fired us. Gagliano: They played a week when nobody was there. Then I heard about a (metal) band called Raven Payne playing Mr. Lucky’s. So a friend of mine said, “Let’s go over there,” and we check it out. We saw the singer, Jim Seagrave, outside. So I said, “Dude, you guys want to play at the Jar?” He goes, “Well, you got Blue Shoes playing.” I was crazy at the time and I go, “I don’t give a fuck.” So I fired them and they go, “If you’re not going to fulfill our contract, we’re gonna sue your ass off.” I said, “Go ahead and fucking sue me.” I was stupid at the time. I shouldn’t have done that. At least I have big balls enough now to admit when I fuck up. Payne: Yeah, we did sue. We didn’t really see a cent of it. Gagliano: So I got Raven Payne and the place was packed. Then I used to book them every other month. DeJongh: The Jar became different. (More) hard rock and metal. Burke: It kind of changed when Franco took over and basically started turning it into a hole. Jimmy Keeler, guitarist for Surgical Steel: We’d started playing there and got a big following. We played Rockers and a few other clubs, but Mason Jar was our spot. Everybody showed up. The Dogz, which became Flotsam and Jetsam, would play with us. Jason Newsted, former bassist for Flotsam and Jetsam: We started playing there in ’82 or ’83. And one of our key (factors) in the early days was once we got comfortable there, we started earning our own following when we started out as Dogz. Then we changed to Flotsam and Jetsam and played the Mason Jar and built a good following on our own. Keeler: Every week would be pretty wild. The girls back then were great and there was plenty of them and we had a good time. Wild times at Mason Jar were a feature, not a bug. Case in point: what went down in its phone booth. DeJongh: The Jar used to have a wooden phone booth inside in the front that was known as a place for musicians to get blowjobs. Gagliano: Around the time we had the Schoolboys, the singer, (Stephen) Clifford, man that guy was such a good-looking motherfucker. He would get in the phone booth all the time. Who knows what the fuck they were doing in there? While Mason Jar began to pivot more toward metal under its new owners, the club still brought in local New Wave and post- punk favorites. Some were propelled to bigger things. Brian Smith, vocalist, Gentlemen Afterdark (in 2000): I first met Gagliano when I was a teenager playing in my first real band. We were playing at a Tempe club called Merlin’s — or maybe it was still called the Star System, I don’t recall. Franco was there scouting bands for his just-purchased Phoenix club, the Mason Jar Lounge. He handed me a business card and invited our band over for after-hours. DeJongh: The Schoolboys went from playing the Mason Jar to getting a record deal on Capitol, being produced by Eddie Kramer, who worked with KISS. They had to change their name to ICON. People went from the Jar straight into that. It was a stepping stone out. In the early-to-mid ’80s, Mason Jar began hosting all-ages matinee shows, a rarity among Phoenix rock clubs. Patrick Flannery, vocalist for St. Madness: There were lines going all the way around the building and down the street of kids who couldn’t wait to go to those matinee shows. Michael Gilbert, drummer for Flotsam and Jetsam: When I was 14 or 15, I started going for the all-ages show. My parents drop me off with my friends. The very first time I ever saw Flotsam and Jetsam before I joined was at the Mason Jar and I was like, “Man, I want to be in that band.” Cathie Mancini, Tempe resident: GBH was one cool show I remember. I was 16 and (snuck) in my Jack Daniel’s in airplane bottles. Gagliano sought bigger acts. He linked up with high-profile booker Frontier Booking International and attended the New Music Seminar in New York City. Gagliano: We go to a party they had for FBI. That’s where I met Fishbone and Red Hot Chili Peppers. Nobody knew who they were. So I introduced myself and said, “Anytime you guys want to come (to Phoenix), I’ll take care of you. I get your backline, food, beverage, whatever.” Schmoozing paid off. Both bands made their Phoenix debut at Mason Jar in June 1985. Other touring acts followed. For the rest of the ’80s, Mason Jar thrived as metal’s popularity soared. Keeler: Metal was really strong back from ’82, ’83 all the way up to the ’90s. Everybody that was somebody would go there. Franco would book some good bands. Tom Reardon, bassist, Hillbilly Devilspeak: Metal was Franco’s bread and butter. Gagliano: Alice Cooper, he left his boot there one night. And then I said, Alice, you left your shoes over >> p 20 Killer Pussy vocalist Lucy LaMode, right, with Phoenix musician Elgin McMillan in the mid ’80s. (Provided by Lucy LaMode) Local thrash-metal band Ripchord outside of the Mason Jar in 1986 before opening for The Dead Milkmen. (Provided by Jeffrey Horen) The exterior of the Mason Jar in the early ’90s. (Kevin Bogle)
