Iconic Dibbo’s nightclub to go out with the bang provided by return of Austin Healy

(Note: This web page to be updated on Thursday, complete with a review story on the Dibbo’s farewell party and a rundown on local April Fool’s Day pranks around the bar scene. I was occupied during the Easter holiday, but like the sign said for the Agave Kitchen: The Man has risen).

The end of an era in Hudson music will come on Saturday night, March 23, when Dibbo’s will hold a farewell party with the original members of Austin Healy taking the stage for the final time at the venerable nightclub. It has seen icons play everything from classic rock to metal, blues and country rock, to even hip hop, disco and ’80s pop.

The multi-story building is being purchased by a group of investors in the local Dabruzzi family, who plan to completely redo and convert it to a cafe in front, a banquet hall in back, and office space upstairs. However, it appears that live music at Dibbo’s has seen its last day.
Rumors of the change have been swirling for months, but manager Chuck McGee says that when they started becoming seriously considered in December and January, were still premature as nothing had been finalized. There were other considerations to be worked out, such as what if any contribution of funds the city of Hudson would make toward upgrading the old but historic building, and if the new owners would be required to create more parking spaces — a stipulation that in the past had stalled other expansion projects proposed by downtown nightclubs.
However, the handwriting was on the wall in January when the sound equipment was hauled out of the spacious back concert hall, which over the years had seen performances by the likes of 38 Special, Tommy Tutone, Blue Oyster Cult, Foghat, the instrumentalists of Twisted Sister, Firehouse, the Smithereens, Great White’s lead singer Jack Russell and even a quintet, with two drummers, of former band members who backed up heavy metal icons such as Ozzy Osbourne and the late Ronnie James Dio.
The volume churned out by that last crew was only topped by a four-band night of death metal, with surprising clarity and quality, that featured practitioners from the active New York scene and their counterparts who led an effort that was burgeoning in this region and often saw vigorous slam dancing.
And then, a few years back, came a night where fashion met blues, as professional models from the Twin Cities strutted down a catwalk that was brought in and positioned across the midst of the dance floor, followed by the music of up-and-coming guitarist Brandon Scott Sellner. The only thing was that amateur local models were invited to join in and stole the show from the pros as nearly 1,000 people watched.
But back to this Saturday, it’s Austin Healy, the reunited southern rock band that has played Dibbo’s many times over the years and now is the opening act for 38 Special. It’s the perfect act for the finale, and the song with which they will likely close, Freebird, is also a best choice, said McGee, who has been manager at Dibbo’s for about 25 years.
That other group, 38 Special, popped into Dibbo’s in downtown Hudson after playing a megaconcert with numerous bands in Somerset and heading home. The group that was performing that night is a name act in themselves, the Wetspots, and the Dibbo’s staff closed off the east balcony just for 38 Special and its crew. The idea was floated that members of 38 Special could get on stage and play a couple of songs, but the occasion was so long ago that no one could recall if they actually graced the stage or not.
Others have actually performed, some of them often. Tommy Tutone, who made the song “Jenny-867-5309” famous, would often stroll in with a guitar in hand, since he has parents who live in the Twin Cities and a musician friend, the late Jeff Johnson, who was a longtime Hudsonite and graced the national charts with the groups Supercell and Another Carnival.
When an annual festival he started was playing a park two blocks away and a thunderstorm hit, the two national bands that were scheduled to play made there way through the rain, gear in hand, and were invited to take the stage at Dibbo’s instead.
When Blue Oyster Cult played Dibbo’s, McGee closed down the front area afterwards and they just hung out and talked at length. “I have to admit this was the only time I’ve been starstruck by a band,” McGee said. “They are just iconic.”
Another band made their way to the stage after trekking here from Somerset, this time after playing OzzFest. The members of Twisted Sister joined the house band onstage, but it should be noted that their lead singer, Dee Snider, stayed in the tour bus outside and slept it off.
Before McGee’s time, when the drinking age was 21 in Minnesota and 18 here, there were the popular Tuesday Banana Nights, where a piece of the fruit would get you in for free. It helped that there was a grocery store just up the block, and the owner was a friend of the Dibbo’s management. The story goes that a local musician came up with the freebee idea.
In those days, on a slow night, there would be 500 patrons, but more typically up to 1,500 to listen to a deejay play music of that time. People disagree on the popular idea that the party often spilled out into the main street in front of the nightclub, some calling that an urban myth.
One thing everyone’s sure of, that the staff had to deal with, are the strange requests that some big name performers made for stuff to be waiting for them backstage. Most noteworthy among these contract “riders” were lots of sweat socks, stretchy ones, although beyond that the musicians didn’t specify what type.
“A lot of these requests were made by the staff, not the musicians,” McGee said, laughing. “I would negotiate with them, such as the number of pizzas they wanted us to bring in.”
One thing that was a certainty for at least one group to want was a specific kind of liquor, even if it meant running across town at the last minute, McGee recalls.
Contracts named specific types of food that were to be provided. “But a lot of times the bands didn’t even know what items were in the contracts, didn’t want to know and didn’t partake,” McGee said.
More difficult were the members of Firehouse and the different lineups of Foghat, who required folded beach towels, “nine of them not eight,” said McGee, again laughing.
Reality TV even hit Dibbo’s, when Henry Winkler and Tim Conway ended up playing some slot machines. Unfortunately, that part of the segment never aired.
Dibbo’s was made the most famous by the late Vic Fenner and his family, who bought it from Robert Means and added bands and a bigger stage to the mix of banquet hall offerings. It was at that time that the term “Dibbo’s” was coined, based on the way a nickname was mispronounced. Members of the family were traveling through the area from Superior, reputedly on their way through northwest Wisconsin to go to California although McGee discounts that, and legend has it landed in Hudson and decided to stay here.

 

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