Soundbites: Who Killed Nectar's?

Hip-hop legends Onyx performing at Nectar’s in 2023 Credit: John James ©️ Seven Days

I’ve never been particularly good at biting my tongue — I’m guessing most writers share that attribute. But I needed to exercise restraint a few months ago after I reported that Nectar’s was “taking a pause,” as its owners called it, and shutting down for the summer. Amid all the social media posts about how “Burlington is finished” and the requisite playing of the blame game, lots of people had their fingers crossed that the club, which had been a cornerstone of Vermont music for half a century, would magically reopen in the fall.

Yeah, that was never going to happen.

I’m not saying I was sitting on juicy, off-the-record intel that gave me some special insight. The writing was on every wall downtown, if you were paying attention — and I don’t just mean all the graffiti. So when the announcement finally came last week that Nectar’s was indeed finished at 188 Main Street — a week after landlord Joe Handy padlocked the doors — the ghost was properly given up. It was time to get real.

The iconic Nectar’s sign Credit: File: Matthew Thorsen

First, let’s just mourn together. Nectar’s is dead. “Nectar’s will no longer occupy the space that helped shape the soul of Burlington’s music scene,” read the social media statement from the owners and general manager Tyler Nettleton, who have vowed to carry on the “spirit” of the club. What that entails remains to be seen. Perhaps it means a new location for the venue. Or maybe that means leaning into the Nectar’s Presents booking agency and lining up off-site shows, a strategy used by the folks at Waking Windows. We just don’t know.

Social media was awash in tributes and memories. From locals such as bassist Aram Bedrosian to Rob Compa of Boston jam band Dopapod to legions of fans around the world, people recounted their favorite shows, shouted out the famous gravy fries and in general paid homage to the club that brought untold numbers of special musical moments to its stages — both Nectar’s and the equally legendary Border and Club Metronome upstairs. Even the club’s competition chimed in. Former Higher Ground co-owner Kevin Statesir thanked Nectar’s for its dedication to live music, adding, “It helped inspire me to open Higher Ground in 1998.”

Along with all the eulogies came plenty of recrimination, finger-pointing and even a few conspiracy theories — never change, BTV hip-hop scene. Much anger was directed at the City of Burlington and the Great Streets BTV initiative, a plan launched in 2018 with the intention of “transforming our streets into dynamic public spaces.” Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Except that for the past year and a half or so, the downtown core has been so ripped up and under construction that you needed a fucking treasure map to find a coffee shop.

Nectar Rorris selling his famous gravy fries from the takeout window in the 1990s Credit: File: Matthew Thorsen

The situation has been so fraught that more than 100 downtown business owners wrote an open letter to Mayor Emma Mulvaney-Stanak in May, saying that downtown had “reached a critical point” and was facing a crisis. As my colleague Derek Brouwer reported, businesses such as Outdoor Gear Exchange and the restaurant Honey Road have seen significant drops in foot traffic during construction.

Nettleton verified that Main Street construction hampered the venue’s business. Walk-up traffic — a key demographic for a club whose iconic sign lit up the night as a beacon to wandering music fans — was largely erased by a maze of traffic cones and construction vehicles.

Some are blaming the owner of the building at 188 Main Street, landlord Joe Handy. Look, I’m not going to go into the whole history of the Handy family and their reputation as landlords. It’s not my beat and I’m no expert … but let’s just say that when I initially spoke with the people at Nectar’s after they announced their “summer pause” and they told me they were hoping to negotiate a lower rent, my brain went, Well, shit — so much for that.

Nectar’s is not an anomaly. Famous music venues in much bigger cities are struggling and closing. Sky-high rent, combined with increasing insurance rates, are often the main culprits in the death of a nightclub.

Some deeper thinkers pointed to the changing face of live music itself. Ticket prices are soaring, and the post-COVID-19 bump, during which music fans ravenously made up for lost time and snatched up tickets, looks to be finally receding. Market analyst site GWI announced in a survey that only 29 percent of Gen Zers report actively seeking out live music in 2025.

Then there’s the fact that the younger generations statistically drink less than older crowds. Clubs such as Nectar’s depend on alcohol sales — a problem that’s not going to go away for other local venues, by the way.

Here’s the thing: All of those factors played a part. Nectar’s died by a thousand little cuts. And the toughest thing about it is that some of them were self-inflicted.

Phish performing at Nectar’s Credit: Courtesy of Nectar's

When the current ownership group, led by Ed Maier of ElmThree Productions and a silent partner, bought Nectar’s in 2022 from Noel Donnellan, Chris Walsh, Peter Picard and Jason Gelrud, they had a plan: Make Nectar’s a shrine to Phish and the jam band world in general. Maier even highlighted his Phish fandom in the press release announcing the purchase of the club that helped launch Burlington’s most famous musical export.

“I lived in Burlington years ago, back in the early 2000s,” Maier said three years ago. “This was Mecca, this is where Phish was from.”

While all of that was true, and, indeed, Nectar’s has long been a great place to see jam bands, I thought the new owners were missing the point, as was anyone who just looked at Nectar’s as the “home of Phish.”

Nectar’s launched in 1975, almost 20 years before the Phab Phour really started to make a name for themselves. It played host to multiple music scenes and genres, from the funk of Dave Grippo to the swinging strings of Pine Island to the killer BTV alt-rock scene of the ’90s with the Pants and Wide Wail to the early days of Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. Reggae night, Metal Monday, Retronome … Nectar’s and Club Metronome contained multitudes. It wasn’t just a fucking noodle factory, excuse my French.

As Nectar’s seemed to hold tighter and tighter to the notion of being jam band mecca, the club lost a key part of its soul. Local bands by and large stopped trying to play there, as touring jam acts and tribute nights filled the calendar. And many of them did well, by the way. But that didn’t change the fact that to the local scene, Nectar’s was no longer a place to see the bands of Burlington — that was the province of Radio Bean and the Monkey House and the now-defunct ArtsRiot.

Blaque Dynamite playing the last show at Nectar’s, on June 7 Credit: File: Luke Awtry

To be clear: I’m not blaming Maier, nor Nettleton nor former booking agent Ryan Clausen, who all worked their asses off to keep the club going and return it to glory. Running a live music venue in 2025 is like trying to grow fruit in a garden overtaken by weeds. Eventually, all those invasive tendrils simply strangled Nectar’s.

This loss stings; there’s no getting around it. Burlington has lost part of its history and, more practically speaking, two stages in a town hurting for venues. But for the “This city is finished” crowd: Take a deep breath, get offline for an hour and touch some grass, and then take a look around. Yes, Nectar’s is closed. That sucks; that hurts. But suddenly Einstein’s Tap House has built a stage and is hosting music again on the site of one of the city’s other legendary nightclubs, Club Toast. There’s some lovely symmetry to the space returning to live music to pick up the slack.

The Skinny Pancake and the Odd Fellows Hall are ramping up their live calendars. Yes, protect venues such as Radio Bean, Higher Ground and the Monkey House at all costs. We need them even more now. Buy tickets, go to shows, support your local bands. That will solve a big chunk of the problems facing local venues and help keep them going — even if it’s too late for Nectar’s.