The Loop & Purple Haze
My first favourite bar & cocktail
As I’ve done for the past two years, I’m taking off July and August to recharge, travel, and spend as little time as possible sitting at a computer. Paid subscriptions will be frozen until I return in September.
Around age 12, dark hairs above my upper lip sprouted and clustered into what could be described as a moustache. I was an early bloomer follically — probably the only way I was the envy of my male peers in elementary school.
Being the youngest in my family, I learned to observe what older people were able do, eyeing the liberties that came with age. When I got to high school, I saw kids a couple years older that could drive. I heard rumours about drugs and sex. Some students in their final year, with early birthdays, had turned 19 and could legally buy booze. In high school!
These were the freedoms I desired. And I couldn’t wait. I had to take action.
Back to my facial hair for a second. By high school, I could grow a full beard, but I chose to shave it into some questionable styles. Photo evidence:
One day, aged 15 and hanging out in my school’s music room at lunchtime, I noticed a guy three grades above me with dark hair and beard-growing capabilities. I marched up to him and asked when he was turning 19, the drinking age in Ontario. Jay’s birthday was in a few months, so I bluntly requested to buy his driver’s licence. (Given the social hierarchies in high school, and the facts that Jay was 3 years my senior and didn’t know me at all, this move was remarkably bold for any 15-year-old. But, hey, that’s me.) We agreed a price and I counted down the months until I became 19 on paper.
I can still picture Jay’s driver’s licence. I wish I still had it to share on here. For some bizarre reason, his head was turned to the left, so all you could see was his thick, black hair and the side of his face — you couldn’t even perceive his eye colour. The most useful aspect of an Ontario driver’s licence, circa 1998, was how pixelated the photo was. You could barely tell who it was, just a white guy with dark hair and stubble. Jackpot!
I memorised Jay’s full name, address, birthday, and star sign, in a case I was ever questioned by a store clerk or bouncer. Easy.
Just as I’d hoped, with Jay’s ID in my wallet, my world opened up: I bought beer for my friends, I regularly went to bars, I even befriended bartenders. All whilst being 16, 17, 18. And I never got caught!
Through my older cousin Dann, I had heard about The Loop, a club on the top floor of a four-venue complex on Chatham Street in downtown Windsor. (A year or two prior to acquiring Jay’s licence, I played my first bar gig with my rock band, Adrift, at the basement bar, Coach & Horses. That’s a story for another post.)
The Loop was Windsor’s indie scenester hangout before I knew the words indie and scenester.
My memories of The Loop are hazy, for reasons I’ll explain shortly. It was one big room, with blacked out windows, a long, L-shaped bar in one corner, a DJ booth opposite, and a massive, often sticky, dancefloor. What I remember most is the music and the atmosphere. They primarily played rock music, new and old, and the vibe was cool, in an unpretentious, working class, university student bar, way.
Given that I was impersonating a 19-year-old, University of Windsor students, like my cousin Dann and his friends, were the people I encountered at The Loop and looked up to. With their fashionable haircuts and refined cultural interests and intellectual ideas. Underage Josh embraced the freedom to meet people slightly older and infinitely cooler than me, to observe and learn how to behave, well before I was actually an adult.
Outside of concerts and school dances, I doubt I danced much in public to rock music until The Loop. I’m sure my dance moves were limited then — they still are! — but The Loop’s dancefloor is where I embraced uninhibited (albeit usually inebriated) movement to music I loved. I imagine the DJs were spinning nascent indie and garage rock bands like Modest Mouse and The White Stripes, as well as 80s pioneers like Depeche Mode and Talking Heads.
My strongest musical memory is when I showed up one night so early that the place was empty. Art rock was playing at an ear-splitting volume. I was literally blown away by the sound, and also impressed that the DJ chose such a moody, undanceable song I didn’t recognise. The Loop was a hip rock bar, the site of much drinking, flirting, and dancing… so what was this intense music bouncing around the cavernous space?!
After the song ended, I bravely went up to the booth and inquired. It was “From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea” by The Cure, from 1992’s Wish.
Every time I put on this track, I think of The Loop. Perhaps I remember this particular song, unlike hundreds of others I heard there, because I hadn’t started drinking that night yet….
The most lasting sensory memory I have of The Loop is my favourite beverage, the Purple Haze. I have no idea who first turned me onto it; I probably hadn’t tried any cocktails before. As the name suggests, it was bright purple, and served in a tall pint glass with tons of ice. The taste was a sickly combination of tart, sweet, and sharp. Very boozy. Depending on the mix, the lime and cranberry juices could make it practically acidic; the first sips instantly giving me a sore throat. Not very helpful when shouting at friends and strangers over a club PA system all night.
Once I considered myself a Purple Haze aficionado, I would bring the ingredients to house parties and impress my high school friends with my supposed cocktail knowledge and skills. In retrospect, I wonder if everyone else knew what I wouldn't admit: the drink was disgusting. I haven’t had one since I left Windsor in 2002, but I’ve found a recipe via ChatGPT which looks right. I can’t bring myself to try it now, so I have not tested this recipe. Do so at your own risk!
Purple Haze cocktail recipe, courtesy of ChatGPT:
1 oz vodka (or ½ oz vodka + ½ oz white rum)
½ oz Blue Curaçao
2½–3 oz cranberry juice
¼–½ oz fresh lime juice
Shake and serve with tons of ice in a tall glass. Prepare to have a sore throat for the rest of the night.
Last week, I was in one of my favourite bars, The Sun Tavern (which I wrote about here), pondering the elements that make it great: cool music, welcoming staff, good-looking and diverse clientele, delicious drinks. A consistently lively and lovely atmosphere.
I was transported back 25+ years, when and where my enjoyment of late night social experiences began. Buying Jay’s ID, befriending uni students and hipsters, navigating the dancefloor, hearing that Cure song, and drinking Purple Haze, were formative for my adult tastes and activities. The Loop was the first bar I ever called my favourite. The Purple Haze was the first cocktail I loved and tried to make at home. I’m still pursuing those types of interests now — hopefully with less awkward dance moves, better taste in booze, and more acceptable facial hair.
Have a great summer, friends. Cheers!