The worst closures are those that come without warning. Because, of course, you don’t have time to say goodbye. This is what happened with Karma Disco, located at number ten in Plaza Real: yesterday, it announced its definitive closure on its social media channels.
A Sudden Farewell to a Barcelona Icon
“Thank you very much to all the staff, security members, DJs, waiters, and workers who have passed through since the doors opened in December 1978. Infinite thanks to all the ‘Karmeros’ for supporting and coming all these years,” announced the message. Just over a month ago, the metal shutters of Karma were already down, a silent precursor to the finality of the message: “Karma has lowered the blind and will not open again.”
For nearly half a century, Karma Disco was more than just a nightclub; it was a pulsating artery in the heart of Barcelona’s nightlife. From 1978 until its unexpected closure, this subterranean rock haven was a friendly, tubular den, a vibrant centrifuge of bodies dancing, flirting, and forging connections. It was a place where the diverse genres of rock – hard rock, punk, grunge, Brit-pop – were the reason for being, with skilled DJs spinning tracks that kept the energy alive.
The Soul of a Rock ‘n’ Roll Era
Anyone who hasn’t spent a night reveling at Karma has missed out. In its heyday, it was an amicable, tubular cavern with a DJ pulpit at the back, a bar to the left, and strategic spots to settle down, drink in hand, to chat with friends or embark on a ‘hunt’ for companionship. As the night progressed, the density of people grew – sometimes to an almost suffocating degree – and the tube-like dance floor became a vibrant, spinning vortex of bodies, where dancing and flirting flourished.
The security staff were known for their kindness; regulars often got in for free, and sometimes a complimentary drink would appear at the bar if the boss was in a good mood. Closing at six in the morning, to the tune of Lou Reed’s ‘Ladies Goodnight,’ the lights would come on, signaling either the triumph of a night well-spent with a new acquaintance or, more often, the bittersweet taste of defeat. In the latter case, the descent into the infamous Chez Popof, Barcelona’s most notorious after-hours spot, often awaited.
A Cultural Landmark Beyond the Dance Floor
With nearly half a century of life, Karma has cemented its status as a cultural icon of the city. This disco was the setting for Ventura Pons’ 1986 film La Rubia del Bar, where Enric Majó falls for the magnetic charm of a blonde prostitute, Núria Hosta, and confronts a very credible Ramoncín as a pimp. It also features in Casavella’s magnificent literary trilogy El día del Watusi, serving as a location for Fernando Atienza’s psychedelic and delirious revelries (the writer himself was a regular).
Memories Etched in Rock and Roll
The walls of Karma could tell countless stories, but here are a few personal anecdotes that capture its essence:
- My first night at Karma was as a minor. At 17, I came to Barcelona with friends from my village to be part of the audience for Persones Humanes, but we hadn’t considered the small inconvenience of needing somewhere to spend the night. Karma welcomed us until the first train.
- In 1998, after their memorable concert at Garatge Club, Mark Lanegan and his band, an all-star grunge lineup, headed to Karma for a party. We immediately recognized Soundgarden bassist Ben Shepherd and Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer Jack Irons. Two incredibly friendly guys, delighted to chat with fans, who treated us to beers and anecdotes for a couple of hours (Lanegan remained impassive in a corner, hidden under a cap, casting menacing glances).
- The time a good friend threw up on the high tables in front of the bar, and the aspiring flirters on the dance floor began to slip on the filthy concoction, falling face-first into the vomit. It looked like a scene straight out of an extreme John Waters film, and we had to escape up the stairs. We didn’t show our faces there for a month.
- Another night, a shady character pulled out a truncheon in a nearby alley, trying to force us to buy his drugs. My friend wanted to fight, but I grabbed him by the neck, told the thug to get lost, and we fled, taking refuge in Karma’s seductive gloom, scrambling down the stairs at full speed. A heavily loaded gin and tonic stabilized us.
The closure of Karma Disco marks the end of an era for Barcelona’s nightlife. It leaves a void that will be hard to fill, a silent testament to the countless memories, friendships, and fleeting romances forged within its hallowed, rock-infused walls. While the music has stopped and the doors are shut, the spirit of Karma will undoubtedly live on in the hearts of all those who experienced its unique magic.
Source: https://www.timeout.es/barcelona/es/noticias/cierra-esta-mitica-discoteca-de-la-plaza-real-de-barcelona-despues-de-casi-medio-siglo-de-rock-y-ligoteo-031126
