Interviewed by Dawson Turner
Last Night in Outer Heaven
In it’s final days, iconic East Austin Disco Club OUTER HEAVEN saw lines snaking the block, member-exclusive parties, no-repeat mixes, packed dance floors, night markets, and more. Dawson and Niles hit the club at the height of it's powers on one fated night; one week before it’s doors close for good.
In an exclusive interview club owner Sean Daigle talks about inspirations, memories, and next steps for the club outside the brick and mortar.
Interview with Sean Daigle
How do you want Outer Heaven to be remembered?
I feel towards the end, I sort of always get more perspective of what it meant to people. It’s very overwhelming. Off the top of my head I know 12 people got married from there. Who knows how many people found theirs? Three people on our staff found their partners. I don't know, it's a weird experience to have. I wanted it to be a genuine experience in people's minds.
I think it is. You said your main staff has been there the whole four years?
Yeah. So, essentially, I kind of did everything the opposite of how you're supposed to [make] most bars run. We essentially paid everybody not the $2.13 rate that you can legally pay bar staff on purpose. It wasn't an economic decision; it was a moral decision. I've worked a million service industry jobs; I know that shit sucks. And so, I think because I was so proactive on treating people like human beings, I guess, no one ever left. I think in the total five years, I think we had like 13 or 14 employees, which is probably like what bars go through of just like turnover in a year. So I was pretty proud of that. I think that's huge.
What do you think attracted people to the space?
I wanted to make a disco bar but it was like a secret punk bar [that] just happened to play gay dance music, because that's what I like. But it's still like, we have the punk rock ethos.
You did a remix of Bjork’s “Hyperballad” that I’ll never forget. I couldn’t believe it.
[Laughs] You can mask a song that maybe half the crowds gonna know, into like an instrumental that 80% of the people know, and then you get like 60% of the people, which I feel like is a pretty good percentage for playing a Bjork song in a dance club. I think that a lot of people won't do that, because they're like, well, ‘we got to have 90% of people like every song.’ And I was like, nah, dude, that's fucking boring as shit. That's a bullshit ass wedding DJ.
Another thing: I like your dance floor photos. I like them a lot.
I mean, I was a photographer for 15 years. I wish I had more footage for actual video footage of the club, but it was, like, almost impossible. It's almost impossible just to get photos. But yeah, I tried as best I could to capture stuff, but usually the best time I can't even walk on the dance floor to take pictures. But those would have been the best pictures. I think about that all the time.
Well, I mean, that’s life. You’re too busy experiencing it, making it happen.
I think there's something to not exploiting the moment…There's something to like when nobody has their phones out and they're just like, in it. It makes you feel like you are successful.
People’s subjective memory of a night is gonna be way better than any photo or video.
Your brain fills in the blanks.
“I wanted to make a disco bar but it was like a secret punk bar [that] just happened to play gay dance music.”
I don't even think people are really looking back at the pictures. I think that just the act of taking out the phone and getting it is the way people remember things.
A lot of it is people posting, having content for their social media.What I try to do on Instagram is, like, no, who gives a shit what people think of you? Don't, don't be scared of people not liking you. People are not going to like you and also fuck them, don't. Kids under 26, their intentions are so good, they're so much better than my generation, whereas they're just lost because they seek approval for everything that their opinions are only based in, like, what's not going to make somebody angry and not what they actually think? And it's just like, so sad to me, that mentality.
How do you handle a flop? You play a mix and it doesn’t land like you wanted.
I take nothing personally. I think I’m enough of an old man where I genuinely don’t care if I fail. I'll do stuff and I'll understand well it might eat shit, but I'll still try it out, because I'll be like, I like this. I think this is funny. I think this is fun. It’s part of the act of doing it and just trying it. The best are ones where I'm like ‘Oh, this is gonna fail so miserably.’ Kids are gonna be like, ‘What the fuck is this?’ And they play it, and people like, lose their minds, or you're not ready for it, because you just don't expect it, but you would have never you would have never known that, had you not tried.
I think a place that is always evolving is a place people want to go. I never heard the same song twice.
I was incredibly conscious with the music. I have time codes on all of the songs. I would wait months between replaying [a song]...I think the hard drive has 65,000 songs. 70% never played at the club. I have it if I need it. That’s what you’re supposed to do. On the fly, how can I mold myself? Instead of the 200 hits I got off fucking Spotify. That sounds monstrous.
Yeah. We’re trying to do proper 90s raves. That ethos of a big ass warehouse where you play til 8 in the morning. No rules. Anarchy parties. That kind of vibe. Everything is so safe now. If we’re not gonna be in a building and stick to bar rules you might as well go crazy…I essentially just want to make parties that I would want to go to.
