I put on my turquoise snakeskin Savage X Fenty bra top, or was it a pink studded skirt? No, it was definitely my one-of-a-kind LeftHand LA plaid kilt. I then grabbed my black platform boots, and best sunglasses. Maybe it sounds like I’m playing dress up, or going to a Studio 54 party, but this was just an average Saturday night of outfit planning in Savannah, Georgia. Because every Saturday night, like clockwork, my friends that I had met along the way and I would gather at the one spot we knew everyone else would too. A local hangout spot in a town or city means more to a community than it’s often given credit for. In Savannah, that spot was the El Rocko Lounge.
With a quick search, it’s described as the destination for live music in the city, but El Rocko was so much more to those who passed through its doors. As I first entered, the floor vibrated through my boots and about 5 girls whose names I couldn’t remember called me over. This was going to be fun. It was a place to dance until your clothes stuck to your skin, meet interesting (weird) people in line for the bathroom, get shoved off the dancing couches, cram as many friends into the photobooth for a picture with, laugh, cry, mingle, maybe even disappear for a second. Most importantly, it was somewhere to gather with like-minded creative people.
In recent years, there’s been a hefty amount of third places (spaces that exist outside of home and work) talk in the media and how necessary they are for younger demographics. So to see one of the few places like this close after 10 years can feel like mourning without a funeral, like something communal being taken from everyone. They announced their closing only 15 days into the new year, their final night being January 31st (a Saturday).
To any tourist passing by on said Saturday night, the scene might lead them to think someone famous was going to perform. A line around the corner, people packed inside, spilling into the alley, and lingering on the sidewalk, just to stay close to the energy. But there was never any celebrity, that is unless you count their beloved regular band, Basically Nancy. The cult-like devotion of its regulars kept its heart beating, many of them students from the Savannah College of Art and Design, drawn in not just to request Charli XCX, but to find a sense of belonging they found within the space. You could be anyone in there, wear anything, and not one head would be turned. In fact, it was almost a competition of who would wear the craziest styling. God help any millennial that would dare pull up near Halloween…maybe it was comparable to Studio 54.
While not outwardly labeled a queer bar, some would say it functioned as such, offering a quiet lifeline in a region where it is often not safe to be yourself. Its overall openness created a rare sense of safety for Savannah’s LGBTQ+ community, particularly for students and young artists still navigating who they were in a heavily conservative environment. Queer nightlife in the South is inherently political. Bars and clubs are historically one of the few places where people could gather without policing. They exist as necessity. As we watch queer spaces disappear more and more in the US, their loss holds more consequences than just a closed door. Erasing networks that help keep marginalized communities afloat. El Rocko may not have claimed the title of a gay bar, but in its practice it offered what many queer spaces do: room to exist.
It is with heavy hearts our city says farewell to this once lively place. But the exciting thing about a community, is that it still exists without its meeting place, all those interesting (weird) people are still out there waiting to find a new dance floor. It’s about appreciating the lounge for the memories we made there and finding a new space to take up and make our own.
The lights come on like they always do. It’s too early to go home, but this time the lights would stay on and the music would cut whether we were ready or not. So let’s all raise a glass for the last call of Savannah’s El Rocko Lounge.
Words by Elisabeth Edwards
Graphics by Rose Davis