Let's talk origin story: When was the very first Flammable and how did it come to be?

Brian Lyons: I’ve always been into electronic music from an early age. Human League, Depeche Mode, and New Order and all of that stuff. I had established roots in electronic music—in my early to mid teens, I went religiously to a club called Skoochies where this amazing DJ named Dovan played all that electronic dance music I loved that just kind of translated into more modern sounds of house and acid house. The warehouse parties and raves of the early '90s really breathed new life and excitement into the music for me. I started DJing a combination of those parties and club nights, but then I just decided that I wanted to throw my own party and have that luxury of playing consistently on a weekly basis.

I approached the owners of Re-bar at the time and proposed doing a Sunday night. Riz Rollins used to be the guy who threw the Sunday-night party—I grew up going to that, and after Riz pulled the plug on his night, there was nothing happening there Sundays for a while, so I just thought, hmmm, there’s a space to fill there. They gave me a shot. It was an uphill battle for quite a few months, but eventually took hold. It started out as Medicine. I had some gimmicky one-liner subtext on the flyers there.

Wesley Holmes: With the medicine bottle? He had all the best flyers.

BL: That's right—with the little stickers on amber med bottles [laughs]. So it was Medicine for a while, and it didn’t really seem to take hold, so I tried a different format. I gave acid jazz, triphop, and down-tempo stuff a whirl, and that also didn’t seem to grasp hold. I was getting a little discouraged. I had a couple of partners come and go—Roman Zawodny and Josh Quest—and then I just gave it one more push and changed the name to Flammable. Pretty much the week before I was about to throw in the towel, people started showing up, and it just started building from there. It was like March 1994 when I first started, but it didn’t really start picking up in a big way until that summer.

WH: Brian and I had known of each other, but it wasn’t until the night had been changed to Flammable that we actually grew closer. I remember dropping off mixtapes at Jon Lee’s record store, Concepts—he’s the guy who played at Flammable this week. I gave one to Brian, who happened to be shopping there, and he paged me the very next day to book me. It was funny, we would all have our pager numbers on those tapes back then. I was in a transition at the time, playing lots of warehouse parties put on by the likes of the World House, Equinox, and Habit crews [pre-USC days] and a handful of club nights like Crush at Kid Mohair [pre-Baltic Room], Electrolush at the Showbox, Vinylized, Victors, Sasquatch, and Brasilia put on by Ivan Salaverry of UFC fame.

BL: It was a smaller-knit community, but it was also competitive at the same time. Everyone was trying to get along, but promoters were trying to do their own thing and throw nights and get a foothold in a much sparser audience than we see here today.

What was the ethos or mission statement behind Flammable once you changed it to that format?

BL: I just had a renewed sense of love for the music. I fell in love with the music all over again. From all of the electronic and new-wave stuff I grew up with in my early teens/mid teens, it was just an obvious progression, I guess, and once I started going to warehouse parties, I was all about it. I was like, I want to do this.

WH: House music was so fresh at that time. Remember all of the tracks that were coming out in ’94/’95? There were amazing releases by the likes of DIY, Junior Boys Own, Paper Recordings, Strictly Rhythm, Casual, Murk, and Henry Street, just to name a few.

BL: It was really quality, well thought out, dignified kind of house. I was really enthused and wanted to play out as much as I could, but it was a competitive market. Really the only way you could get behind the decks as often as you wanted to was to throw your own party and hope it worked out.

WH: I love talking about these days with some of my younger DJ friends. It was an early generation of house music in Seattle, and there was a limited amount of spots to play. There was usually only one night, tops, in the city to play house music.

BL: There just weren't a lot of deep house nights going on. We had acid house with DJ Masa at the original Vogue in Belltown. Riz would work house masterfully into his sets alongside funk and disco. The Harler brothers who threw legendary shows like Lemon Twist and Electrolush at Showbox. Vinylized, Gravity Point, Michael Manahans shows—there were good things happening for sure, but it still felt like there could be more things dedicated to the sounds we were feeling.

WH: House was underground at that point and had an edge to it. It wasn’t too popular. I remember going out with a fistful of flyers to promote around town just to get people out. I never liked to promote, but it was something we had to do.

BL: Now when we post an event on Facebook, it kinda feels tantamount to handing out flyers and canvassing 10 parking lots over the course of a whole evening.

WH: At times I would hear DJs make remarks about only house music being played at Flammable. This was always a great opportunity to educate them on the history of Flammable and how Brian had built the night around a foundation of house. House music grows and evolves, and we’ve carefully curated the night over the years, staying on top of the latest styles of house and at the same time continuing to pay tribute to its history. After 20 extensive years of staying true to a vision, a sound, and what you love, you have an expectation that both the current rotation and newcomers will have a respect for the music and spirit that the night was built upon. An expectation to uphold the Flammable mission when they’re behind the decks. Brian brought up a good point the other day: It shouldn’t matter whether you know who’s playing at Flammable or not. Trust the night, you know you’re going to hear great music.

At what point in time did you two feel you were making an observable impact on the community and attracting regulars?

WH: I’d probably say 1997-ish. I think that was when there was a consistent fill of 70 to 100 people every week. We really started to get a rhythm and consistency down with the music and environment. Word of mouth, clever flyers, and promoting at our other shows really started to pay off.

BL: Yeah, once we got over that initial hump of "is this going to work or is it not going to work" and people started coming, and we had built kind of a base audience, there was enough to keep us in business with paying DJs and promo costs, and also make the evening fun. You feel like you’re playing for people who enjoy what you do and everyone’s having fun in the room. But yeah, 1997 is really when we started to hit the next level.

WH: Brian and I started playing more together, which gained traction and funneled even more people into Sunday night. We would make regular appearances at the Showbox, Weathered Wall/I-Spy (what the club became), Vinylized, Kid Mohair, Powerplant, the early Last Supper Club, AroSpace, Super Highway, Back Door Lounge, and our own venture Dialect.

BL: People become familiar with your sound, and if they appreciate it and you're consistent, then they trust you in a way. They know what they can expect for the most part, and you get experimental on some nights, but if someone digs your sound then they’re going to be more apt to check out the shows that you throw.

WH: We did a Saturday night called Dialect back in 2001 and were able to get some of the national and international house DJs of the time to stay through the weekend to play Flammable, which really helped take the night to another level. The Flammable name had spread on the national and international DJ circuit, and now you’ll have world-renowned DJs reaching out to Brian to play when they’re in town or nearby.

BL: Because the guys or gals who have played Flammable, they’re treated with respect, and you will get a great reception from the audience when you're rockin' it—you can really feel the love in that small room.

Do you remember when people first started referring to it as "church"?

WH: It never was consistently called “church” in the early days, but it was flung around.

BL: There was a sprinkle of it here and there. Maybe from the late '90s through the 2000s.

WH: I believe Daren "Pappa" Monroe and Rocky were the first ones to call it “church”, but it really didn’t catch on at that time. These days, referring to Flammable as “church” is just like the iconic red lamp that hangs above the DJ booth getting hit when the DJ drops a serious jam or works out a great mix. They are both symbolic to Flammable and have really caught on over the past five or so years. When that lamp gets hit, you know the DJ up there is workin’ out something special.

BL: You had better be doing something right up there if you're wanting that tip of the hat, though; if you’re messing up, you’re not going to get a lamp slap. But there’s a lot of talent in this town and lot of people are rocking Flamm when they play. That lamp takes a beating. I’ve gone through four or five [laughs].

How, if at all, has Flammable's direction changed over time?

BL: There’s been subtle changes in the music—sounds come and go a little bit, maybe it gets a little more organic-sounding here, or techy here—but the energy is pretty distinctly similar to when we started, which is based on this soulful, groovy, grown-up sound.

WH: Yeah, soulful, groovy, and deep. As music grows and evolves, we have to stay on top of what’s current and breaking ground, yet at the same time continue to pay tribute to those classic house jams here and there.

BL: I’m still having fun playing vocals from the '90s mixed with a tech house track from today and then maybe into a French filtered disco house track. We just take all of this stuff jumbled up together and make it make sense. That’s the challenge.

WH: But I think that’s great. I love those three-day weekends or special nights where we’ll text each other something like “oh, I’m going to bust this track back out, what do you think?” You get these visions of dropping a classic track, like “Some Lovin,” and the crowd eating it up, yet when the moment actually comes, it can go off, or it can backfire.

BL: That has its challenges, too, because music is so much more well produced these days and so much louder, so when you’re going across platforms from vinyl to CD or whatever digital format, there’s a big disparity between sound levels, production quality, and sound quality, so you really need to know what you’re doing up there or it’s going to sound unprofessional. But if you can pull it off and you're hitting these nostalgic notes with a classic next to some current sounds the crowd loves or identifies with, it can be a pretty fun ride.

Along the way you've added Eric Allen, Karl Kamakahi, and Xan Lucero as residents—when did they each come along and how were those choices made?

BL: I was always trying to bring in my friends who shared a similar vision and played the same kind of music as what I was trying to push as the sound of Flammable. I didn't necessarily consider it a resident/non-resident situation. I just wanted to share the decks with people who could rock it. But the resident thing materialized when I had to go down to LA for a few.

WH: Joaquin Garcia and Brent Laurence were a few regulars back in the first decade that stood out.

BL: They were my favorites and they were my go-tos, but I think I considered it more like that rather than as a resident, but I guess they’re about the same thing.

WH: Brian went to LA for a while from 2005 to early 2007 when a lot of things were working against Flammable. Attendance had drastically gone down, and the club was in jeopardy of closing. I took it upon myself to keep the night going and see what I could do to get it back on its feet. The last thing we wanted was for someone to come down, pay to get in, and then see no one on the floor and then leave. During this crazy period I had called on some of the best house DJs in Seattle who were not only good friends, but shared the same vision and would play their part in helping me revive the night. This group included the likes of Gene Lee, Sean Majors, Riz, Jon Lee, Erin O’Connor, Jeromy Nail, and Jon Lemmon, to name a few.

Flammable is known for being a fantastically mixed crowd—do you have any tips for successfully fostering a mixed-crowd environment?

WH: An open-arms approach. Providing an environment for you to come as you are and get down to some amazing music. A special place where you can get it all out on the dance floor.

BL: Great sound and a comfortable room, quality music, and attracting a crowd that realizes we are all in this together in some capacity. It’s a beautiful little dive bar at the end of the day. There's a wonderful history and list of great people that have been a part of that room. People recognize that, I think. It’s got its charm for sure, one that is difficult to recreate.

WH: It’s got soul.

BL: You can wear your pajamas if you want. Everyone just comes and does their own thing.

WH: Trust that there’s going to be amazing music and no attitudes. Just a space for people to be themselves. The one common thread being a love for house music.

I know there must be a ton stacked up over all these years, but tell me a story or two from a night at Flammable that really stood out and blew your mind.

WH: Some of the first three-day-weekend jam sessions really stood out. I remember times over the first decade where we would do these holiday weekend parties with no expectations, and all of a sudden our friends were like, “Dude, there’s a line around the block!” And we’re just like “Whaaat?!?” We’re playing records to a packed room that’s got sweat drippin’ off the walls and people going crazy. We were blown away.

BL: Those legendary three-day weekends have definitely contributed to the reputation of the night.

WH: Looking back, it makes me feel good about all the hard work that was put in. What’s so great about these bigger three-day weekends is that they attract some of those people that used to go out 20 years ago. It amazing to see them and embrace them, and you’re like, “Oh my god, you’re here!” and they’re like, “Oh my god, you’re still playing?!”

BL: Some people have moved on because of their lives, and some people have moved on because it’s a Sunday and work or other early morning demands can be an issue. But sometimes you get to see them on those three-day weekends because they don’t have to worry about getting up at 6 a.m. on Monday and it's like, "Wow, so great to see you back in the house!" or "Yep, we're still doing this!" And especially on those larger nights, the vibe, the energy and excitement for what's been built here, it's palpable.

WH: Jeno at the 20-year anniversary party in 2015 was another major standout. It was amazing to see house heads from all Flammable generations at Re-bar that night to witness the Flammable debut of Jeno and an epic set that was talked about for weeks. He really brought the house down with two-plus hours of wicked house music.

Tensnake, French Connection, Derrick May, and Ruben Mancias were a few other standouts, but a more recent one was the MLK weekend in 2014 with Brian, Gene Lee, and myself. Not only was the music on point that night, there was something magical about the vibe in the room that night and the presence of a whole new generation of Flammable patrons. The Flam Fam gained some new brothers and sisters that night!

What do you think the secret has been to Flammable's sustainability?

WH: [Smiles] The Brian Lyons factor.

BL: [Laughs] I think just staying true to our vision and playing what we feel is soulful, quality music to people who are going to appreciate it. Giving them a comfortable atmosphere to come be themselves and forget about their problems and dance their problems and the night away.

WH: Definitely staying true to our vision and providing an open environment where they can come as they are and get down to some of the best house music in the city. An open-arms approach.