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The
Attraction of Toad's
At
the heart of the Yale campus is a pop music shrine that draws some
very un-Ivy talent. A few traditionalists still shrink from Toad's
Place, but the undergraduates love it, and even a President or two
shows up these days. Founder Mike Spoerndle couldn't be happier.
December
1993
by Brian Steinberg '91
Brian
Steinberg, a former resident of Trumbull College, is a graduate
of the Columbia University School of Journalism. A former columnist
for the Yale Daily News, he has written for Spy, the Stamford
Advocate, and Greenwich Times.
With
its wood paneling, Welsh Rarebits, and team portraits,
the Mory's Association is arguably
the best-known temple to the Yale of yore. And Toad's
Place, which is located just one door down from Mory's on York
Street, couldn't be further away in spirit. Boasting a roster of
superstar performers from Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones (who
opened their 1989 "Steel Wheels" tour there with a surprise
appearance) to Billy Joel and James Taylor, it is considered one
of the top pop music clubs in the country. But electricity makes
strange bedfellows. When a tornado blew out the power in the middle
of lunch at Mory's in 1989, manager Karl Bauer was not about to
stand on tradition. Instead, he called Mike Spoerndle, the founder
and owner of Toad's, who has a separate power line to keep his amplifiers
hot no matter what happens at the Goffe Street substation. And Spoerndle
immediately ran a cable across the alley between the buildings.
"It would have been tough cooking by candlelight," says
Bauer's neighbor. "Karl would have done the same for me."
There
are still some in the Yale community who wrinkle their noses
at the presence of Spoerndle's high-decibel institution in their
midst (the odor of stale beer can have a similar effect the day
after a major concert). But as time goes by, Spoerndle is becoming
an increasingly familiar figure on the campus. He has been invited
to lecture to Yale psychology classes, worked with Dean of Student
Affairs Betty Trachtenberg and the Yale Concert Committee, and—
yes—has become a prominent member of Mory's. Even the upper echelons
of the University administration are coming around to the unusual
allure of Toad's and its master of ceremonies. Just last year, Spoerndle
was made an associate fellow of Trumbull College in recognition
of his role in undergraduate life, and former President Howard
Lamar showed up as a guest at a benefit with one of his special
assistants dressed in a toad costume.
Although Toad's may
at first seem out of place in the shadow of Sterling Memorial Library—which
looms above it across York Street—it is very much a part of
the undergraduate culture, and is one of the few places where Yale
students and New Haveners get together with such ease and enthusiasm.
Whether they are dancing to the music of Sonic Youth, jumping to
the 1950's-style rock of NRBQ, or witnessing rock history during
a musical visit from Cyndi Lauper or Bruce Springsteen, the crowds
are a testament to town-gown relations at their most up-to-date.
As Spoerndle sees it, Yale and the New Haven business community
ought to have these kinds of interaction. And participating in the
life of the College has become his way of making a difference.
Originally from Cleveland,
the 41-year-old Spoerndle came to New Haven to attend the (since
departed) Culinary Institute of America. Upon graduation, he decided
to stay in the area and open a restaurant. "I decided I'd try
something away from home, so if I went broke I could go back,"
he explains. "Luckily, it didn't work out that way, and I got
to stay in Connecticut." In 1975, Spoerndle took over the space
vacated by an earlier restaurant called Hungry Charlie's in the
York Street building that had once housed the Yale Co-op. The source
of the name? "I started with $12,000," Spoerndle recalls.
"We had very few tables and chairs. Coming up with some funny
French name for this funky little place didn't make sense."
Back in Cleveland, "toad" was used to describe someone
who never left the house. Dubbing the restaurant "Toad's Place"
seemed to Spoerndle to sum up his goal of attracting a new crowd.
Success
was by no means instantaneous.
In June of 1975, Spoerndle says, "the business was going broke,
and I decided to learn a little something about the music and bar
business." By the end of the year, he was booking such blues
greats as Willie Dixon, Muddy Waters, and Koko Taylor, in addition
to local rock acts (crooner Michael Bolton opened for bigger names
in the early 1980s). And the names grew steadily in stature. Bruce
Springsteen visited in 1978, and U2 made its first U.S. appearance
at Toad's. One of the selections from Billy Joel's live album, "Songs
in the Attic," was taped there.
The club has grown bigger
and better-equipped with the prominence of the performers. Spoerndle
takes special pride in the sound and lighting systems, which can
turn the place from a rock arena to a dance club with the flick
of a few switches. And the musicians clearly appreciate the fact.
"It's one of my favorite clubs," says Al Anderson, guitarist
for the critically acclaimed band NRBQ.
Making
contact with the Yale community took longer.
According to Charlie Hunter, a 1981 Yale College graduate who started
a Toad's tradition by painting custom-made, wooden window signs
to announce upcoming bands, the management didn't immediately reach
out to its potential Yale audience. But nowadays they are in a close
embrace. Spoerndle's club is a hot spot for two reasons. One is
that it has become the premier place for any band to play between
New York City and Boston. The other is its variety of musical offerings.
Toad's hosts a dizzying array of musical artists and styles, creating
a yearly roster that some of its more famous New York City counterparts
find difficult to match. In any given week, clubhoppers can catch
acts ranging from national names to New Haven locals, and music
that spans the spectrum from African to the spicy Cajun rock called
zydeco. This past summer, blues guitarist George Thorogood appeared
within days of lounge singer Tom Jones.
Spoerndle's eclectic
taste is reflected in his office, which is papered with pictures
of Bob Dylan and autographed glossies of the likes of country singer
Mary-Chapin Carpenter, rockers the Smithereens and Joan Jett, and
bluesman Albert Collins. Booking such variety—and quality—is
a demanding task. "Mike doesn't miss anything," says Hunter.
"He's made use of everything he's got." In the space of
half an hour, Spoerndle is apt to make plans with his booking and
promotions manager Katherine Blossom (a Yale alumna), pay a stack
of bills, set a price for negotiations with a rock band called Widespread
Panic, and attend to alcohol orders for the restaurant.
In recent years, Spoerndle's
whirlwind has come to include a variety of Yale-related activities.
"Mike has always wanted to go to Yale. I'm sure he'll do anything
to get in," jokes Al Anderson. Nowadays, the photographs of
music stars share space with framed letters from Trumbull College
master Harry Adams, and an announcement for a Trumbull Master's
Tea, at which Spoerndle was the primary speaker.
Spoerndle's
involvement with Yale dates back to the mid-1970s.
"I did a Spring Fling," he recalls. "I put Beaver
Brown, NRBQ, and, I think, Jake and the Family Jewels together to
do a thing in Commons, which is really an acoustical nightmare.
We did it, though. We pulled it off." From little things big
things grow: Spoerndle and the Toad's staff were instrumental in
helping the Yale Concert Committee bring Bob Dylan to the campus
in the winter of 1991. He seems thoroughly happy to help out, and
doesn't charge for his services.
Students work with the
club for reasons other than bringing rock stars to sing on campus.
More often, Toad's can provide some extra income, and work there
might pay off in bigger ways than one might think. "It was
really interesting to see the attitudes that townies had about Yalies,
and vice versa," remembers Donna Tiburzi, a 1991 graduate who
served drinks at the club for several months. Other Yale students
have worked at the club as security guards, disk jockeys, and receptionists.
Most
often, Spoerndle's contact with Yale students takes place at the
club, but he is now showing up in the classroom.
Professor Kelly Brownell, who lives near Spoerndle in Branford,
has used him as a guest lecturer in his health psychology class
to discuss the effect of stress in the music business on health.
In return, Spoerndle
has put Brownell's faculty music group—the Professors of Bluegrass—on
the Toad's stage twice in the past academic year. "I think
Mike does a lot of this stuff out of good will," Brownell explains.
"My impression is that he's very devoted to becoming more involved
with Yale. The fact that he's had our group play is evidence of
that. We're certainly not known by our reputation."
Harry Adams of Trumbull
College, where Spoerndle holds the position of associate fellow,
knows how well his neighbor works with students. The club owner
was elected to the fellowship in the spring of 1992, entering a
select company that includes Robert MacNeil, Peter Jennings, and Silence of the Lambs screenwriter Ted Tally. Spoerndle has
recently opened up Toad's especially for Trumbull students. "He
had his whole staff there," Adams recalls, "and they turned
on the smoke and the flashing lights—the whole bit. It
was just a great event. He said it was the 'First Annual'—we're
going to have it every year." As part of his Trumbull duties,
Spoerndle joined the members of the college in the academic procession
during the 1992 commencement. "Marching in the commencement
was more exciting than anything I ever expected it to be,"
Spoerndle says. "Here I am, Mike Spoerndle, cap and gown, marching
with the fellows, watching people smile because their kids are graduating.
It was great." This fall, Spoerndle helped organize the Old
Campus bash for undergraduates following President Levin's inauguration.
Not surprisingly
for a neighborly sort, Spoerndle continues to help out at Mory's
and at the other restaurants along York Street. After a Toad's event,
which can generate a hefty amount of trash, he sends crews to the
nearby parking lots to clean up the leftovers, whether or not they
come from Toad's. If Mory's or Yorkside Pizza needs refrigerator
space, Toad's can help. If a window gets broken by a celebrating
senior, Toad's carpenters are quick to respond.
Perhaps the best example
of how the exchange between the worlds of academe and popular music
is working took place when the rock star Cyndi Lauper arrived in
town for a gig and Spoerndle took her to Mory's for dinner. "The
Whiffenpoofs came up and sang 'Time After Time' to her," recalls
Spoerndle. "And she just started crying." When she'd recovered,
Lauper invited the Whiffs back to Toad's to join her for a number
during her own show. "Good neighbors," says Mory's Karl
Bauer. "That's it in a nutshell."
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