As the year begins, San Jose has lost another indie music joint, Art Boutiki. The final few weeks were an extended love fest.
Art Boutiki served the public for 16 years, most of which was on Race Street near The Alameda. As everything else seemed to come and go, Art Boutiki catered to a wide variety of music scenes, as the last few weeks exemplified.
To start my infiltration, I slithered into the final installment of Drink and Draw—the venue’s combo of vinyl DJ and family play night. As I plopped down on one of the comfy couches, families were already pouring into the place. Kids scampered everywhere. Musicians, artists, librarians, college students, retired county employees and veteran downtown shopkeepers all gathered to celebrate their memories of this outré outpost. Within 10 minutes of me sitting down, numerous attendees drew me into conversations about local comic book history, surf bands and the various locations of San Jose Office Supply 40 years ago.
That was only one night. A week later, another scene at Art Boutiki made me relive the entire rock history of downtown San Jose since the ’80s. Why? You see, Art Boutiki will forever be inseparable from this history, especially for those of us who’ve seen so many venues come and go.
For Chris Landon’s birthday, the bands at Art Boutiki and the audience all created a grand-scale reunion of the original SoFA District rock scene in the early ’90s—the part of town where Art Boutiki first started. At least half of those in attendance were also present the night Cactus Club closed in 2002. According to Art Boutiki staff, the crowd certainly drank like it was the last night at Cactus.
At the birthday gig, the bands featured people I’d seen in a dozen other bands since those days, or people I drank with back in those days, or people I attended college with back in those days. It was wild.
So guess what some of us talked about? The night Cactus closed. The night Ajax closed. The night Marsugi’s closed. The night Voodoo Lounge closed. The three times Johnny V’s shut down for good. For some people, there simply is no San Jose without a variety of live music all the time. Some people don’t need $35 salads or data centers. None of that stuff creates a sense of place. Music does. Community does.
Do I sound like I’m stuck in high school? Good. Because I also went to high school with some of these people. But that’s not the point.
Another monumental realization came to me on the couch at Art Boutiki. And it’s even crazier.
For some of us ageing scenesters, Cactus Club has now become the way we understand time around here. It’s one of our main points of reference. In our view, you can be someone from “back before Cactus,” someone who “opened for so-and-so at Cactus,” or even someone “born after Cactus.” For those out of the loop, Cactus existed from 1988 to 2002. It just blew right by.
So, from now on, whenever you talk about 2026, don’t use that number. Instead, refer to 2026 as “The Year 24 A.C. (After Cactus).” To put it another way, if a particular San Jose skate rock band formed in 1979, they should say, “Founded in the year 9 B.C.” (Before Cactus).
But I digress. This column was supposed to be about Art Boutiki. It still is, I assure you.
The night was special. In terms of reunions, I will always be a part of the original SoFA District scene, no matter where we all wind up in life, no matter how the neighborhood evolves.
The farewells for Art Boutiki continued over the next few nights, with additional capacity crowds and scenes. Another amazing birthday gig—this time for Jonathan Borca—unfolded two days later, filling the entire place all over again. The final blowout was on New Year’s Eve. Then, kaput.
As with Cactus, Laundry Works, Marsugi’s, Ajax, F/X, Voodoo Lounge, One Step Beyond, Cafe Stritch, Fuel, Blank Club and Johnny V’s, just like all those places, Dan Vado and Art Boutiki made San Jose a better place. Fare thee well.
