Okay, so Spectrum is nothing special. The sound is crappy, the conditions often cramped and the beer range average.

But when it opened however (was it 2003 or 2004?), it was nothing short of revelatory. The term "indie club" have never really been heard before in Sydney, and punters were confused. "A club? That plays nothing but indie? Surely they must have a few nights a week of hard house? Hmphwhwt!" people would remark.

It really helped kick-start an era in Sydney. And god bless it, it hasn't changed since.

Since the closing of The Hopetoun Hotel it's also pretty much the default small venue for up-and-coming and unknown interstate bands.

The reason I'm picking it however, is it's reliability. There's pretty much nowhere else to go out on a Friday or a Saturday night for a cheap, late night dance with a decent crowd (i.e. not all rich 18 year olds). And the music policy, while at times erratic, usually centres on lots of cheeky old retro, and you can usually be guaranteed at least one Bowie song. I DJ'd here once and basically just played The Rushmore soundtrack - and the crowd lapped it up.

Viva le Spectrum!

I recently got back from 15 months away, and one of the signs that the Sydney music scene had actually improved, despite the closure of several iconic venues, was the emergence of the Melbourne-esque, obscure small bar phenomenon: with venues like the unsignposted Chingalings, and the subject of this entry: Good God Small Club (sub-heading: late night danceteria).

Located in the heart of the Spanish quarter, some genius had the idea of taking the backroom of the La Campagna salsa dance hall and turning it into a very small club. And in a city fascinated with mega-pubs like Ivy and super-clubs like Home, it was a refreshing change. Not nearly as refreshing as its music policy, which focused on bringing in some of Sydney's better music nerd promoters for nights focusing on progressive niche genres like dubstep, Baltimore Miami whateveryoucallit (Wamp Wamp), 1940's-1960's lo-fi obsure-ana (Jingle Jangle). As well as regular club nights, it also welcomed small-sized hype bands doing somewhat secret shows (Hawnay Troof, Spank Rock). Adding to the mystique, the entrance was literally behind another dance floor - you'd have to walk past salsa-ing middle aged women to get to it. The size of the club was also one perfect little room, with a tropicana decorated DJ booth and a good range of not-too pricey beers.

I was hoping to hold my next Twist And Shout 60's Dance Party there. I emailed them last week hoping and never heard back. Now I know why.

Throw Shapes is reporting that GoodGod has mysteriously closed and the guys who run it have had no explanation and are being denied access to their space. This isn't the first time an indie dance venue has been suddenly closed in the Spanish Quarter - anyone remember when The Spanish Club got shut down from having music when someone realised they didn't actually have an entertainment license? Perhaps this is the same deal, and maybe La Campagna just happens to be a Spanish restaurant with a dance floor.

Whatever the story is behind GoodGod's sudden closure (and whether or not it's permanent - hopefully not), it makes Sydney look like a backwards nanny state - if the movement is away from DIY venues trying new things and towards superclubs that force you to give your biometrics.

To put in perspective how backwards Sydney's licensing laws are, read this article from the Toronto Star - a great city where they have no problem with restaurants having dancefloors and DJs, just as long as the venues serve enough food for a light snack and stop serving booze at 2am.

Who knows when GoodGod will be back - but hopefully this isn't the end of the small club phenomenon in the harbour city.