By Brian Turk
By Drew AIles
By Taylor Boylston
By Bree Davies
By Emerald O'Brien
By Gina Tron
By Jon Solomon
"When we first announced we were doing this, everyone we talked to was like, 'How can we help? What can we paint? What can we build?'" remembers Ottaway. "But I told them all just to put their energy into their music, because that's how we're really going to need them: to come to this place and put on a quality show, and to show up to see other bands do that."
A longtime promoter of indie- and punk-rock shows in Denver, Cotter has had his hand in a number of local venues, both extant and extinct, including the Raven, the short-lived Cat, the Gothic Theatre and the 15th Street Tavern. Although Ottaway's experience in the concert realm isn't as easily detected, he's been no less active: Any wistful discussion of the good old days of the Denver scene is apt to include mention of places such as the Arapaho Warehouse (now Monkey Mania), the Santa Fe Warehouse, and, most recently, the Pine Box Construction Company on Walnut Street -- all spaces that had come under Ottaway's unofficial and, yes, probably illegal proprietorship over the past fifteen years.
Cotter is small and wiry and blond, Ottaway tall and dreamy -- a motorcycle hobbyist and frontman for the Tarmints. The differences between the two create unexpected comedy, like the moment when the gadget-challenged Ottaway struggles to answer a cell phone, an object he begrudgingly agreed to obtain at Cotter's insistence. "It took me a week to figure out how to dial on it," Ottaway says sheepishly. For his part, Cotter has a mile-long list of projects he's ready to put in place; Ottaway is prone to rolling his eyes when his partner lists them all.
"He's got so many ideas," Ottaway says. "He's always thinking of stuff that we should do. And it's all good stuff, but for now, I'm more likely to just be like, 'C'mon. We can do that stuff later. For now, we have a club to open.'"
Despite their conflicting personality quirks, the two have settled on a shared vision for the Climax, a club that could prove to be a test of local music's ability to draw crowds to an unusual location. Area bands will make up over 50 percent of the venue's calendar, with touring acts filling out the rest of the dates. The owners of Herman's Hideaway and Cricket on the Hill have already shown that ratio can work.
"I've always kept a standard of working with local bands," says Cotter, himself a member of the punk combo Familymen. "It's a little like gambling, I guess. And it is kind of hard. But I guess it's a sick kind of thrill."
"I just want to cultivate the music scene here, finally," Ottaway says. "I want to have an atmosphere where outlandish ideas can flourish, where people can play a show and be respected, and maybe, for once, not have to have their feet sticking to the floor."
Ottaway's comment could be read as a dig at either the 15th Street Tavern or the Lion's Lair, the two notoriously divey venues that the Climax Lounge will most closely resemble in terms of content. But asked how their place will fit into the already cramped and very competitive club landscape, they shrug off concerns.
"I just think it's such a low-self-esteem reaction to say, 'Oh, people might think we're going to fail, so we'll put up our fists and start fighting and being part of all that,'" Ottaway says. "We have no intention of pitting people against each other or trying to take business away from people. I think we're basically opening a thrift store. Like, the Gothic is Neiman Marcus, and the Bluebird is like Foley's, and the Ogden is like Target. We're like the Goodwill, where you can get good stuff for cheap."
Cotter and Ottaway share tastes that lie on the harder, darker and artier side of the Denver divide. So far, though, the Climax calendar reflects an openness to acts that didn't often grace the stages of the Raven, the Tavern or Ottaway's myriad warehouse endeavors. The club is working with some outside promoters and organizations (Kurt Ohlen's Big K Productions, the Colorado Music Association and @ntidote records, for starters), and Boulder's Radio 1190 will host a semi-regular local showcase (beginning with the Dinnermints and Doozer on October 23). Lipgloss, the Brit-pop-centric club night regularly housed at 60 South, will move in occasionally, too.
And Cotter and Ottaway have other ideas for how Climax patrons might pass the time. They plan to host pinball tournaments in a back room, which will be decorated with a revolving batch of original works by local artists. They'll produce and distribute Denvoid, a monthly magazine that features listings and short descriptions of artists performing in town (not just at Climax), along with columns by regular writers. Tom Murphy, who operates the local indie label Spirit of 1848 Records as well as its companion Web site, is among those who've signed up to pen the publication.