The Coffin — Restaurant in Portland

I enjoy visiting this place. The DJs are exceptionally kind and open for song requests, the sparkling Black Death water is affordable, nourishing, and provides a blast of gusto for onstage performance art dancing. The ambiance oozes in eclectic imagery interwoven with ethereal dreaminess. The door staff and bartenders clearly have seen it all in this dark circus type of environment but what I appreciate about all the staff here is that they have solid individualistic personalities, they are not trying to be popular and or cool. They are just doing their jobs and they do their jobs to the highest degree of acceptance of dancing and self- ornamenting appearance styles and or lack of any style whatsoever, as long as the individual is being peaceful. This is an admirable skill that the door people and bar staff all possess as clothing, appearance, dancing styles and energy can very easily be misconstrued by a novice. The crowd is very hit and miss, all depending on your own personal energy exuded, which makes you the patron either susceptible to the crowds energy or vice versa - all depends on your own self value and state of mind. Most importantly, which I like best of all is that the stage next to the dj next to the entrance of the club is the People's Stage! Anyone can dance on stage for their own spiritual, meditative, fitness rockn-out purposes! This is a uniquely valuable resource for me personally as I find that dancing on stage, a People's Stage is a paradigm shift - breaks down the barriers of exclusivity that corrupt money grubbing corporate society has trained and brainwashed people to think about people on a stage that they are somehow better than those in audience. This is why public speaking and/or public performance are equalled in the level of fear people have to death itself. The People's Stage at the Coffin Club is not a place to have fun, to show-off, to grandstand, to collect social media status, props, or credibility. It is not a place to go viral as a prepubescent mind craving for attention. It's a place to dance maybe have some fun but to celebrate your own existence amidst imagery celebrating our ultimate demise.The Coffin Club is similar to Dia de los Muertos "Day of the Dead" it is a celebration of life itself as all people of all economic, social, creeds and cultures are created equal nobody is better or worse than anyone else based on their finances or genealogy our commonality is that we are all alive right now and we will all die, without exception everyone and everything we see around us will die including the planet Earth and all the celestial satellites in the sky as well, incinerated in solar storm of fury and then the sun will die too and go cold and black and dormant, everything everyone everywhere. Soooo, let's just be nice to one another, (civil and respectful). In summary - Yeah, the Coffin Club is alright, but don't go there if you are just there to make friends or find a partner, don't overpopulate and destroy the place for self-absorbed salacious purposes. Go there just to hang out in silence, and catch the good vibes and enjoy the reprieve from the uncaring off kilter world outside that can easily be defeated regardless of how strong their AI technology, drones, billionaires, trillionaires in 5 years, class and cultural polarized world of division they've created. And most importantly, go there to dance and enjoy the music that doesn't want to be cool. Gothic industrial New wave dark wave Italo, dark-synth tunes of Generation X the last generation of this planet that knows how to communicate with their voice person to person in person. And the dark wave meanderings of bands of today that doesn't put a premium on money or exploitative conquest. Thanks Coffin Club. Oh and entrance is free several nights of the week. I only drink the Black Death sparkling water, and I do not smoke, but everyone else seems very satisfied with the menu and outdoor courtyard offerings. The downstairs area is an entirely different juggernaut that I do not care to review at this time, thanks...

It was very dark even by bar standards, harder to see all the decor which was the main part of the attraction. The bartender did not really appear to like being there most of the time, was not friendly until the much later hours of the night. As previous reviewers mentioned, the specialty drinks were entirely weak. The owner mentioned some regulations, but I doubt all the various bars I have visited consistently thrive on breaking law and sneaking in amounts of alcohol prohibited. so I don't see how the owner's objection justifies the wimpy specialty drinks. Whoever, based on the owner's description, complained about too strong of a drink and caused such watering down, should consider drinking juice instead. The music group was actually acceptable for the Lovecraft atmosphere. The female lead took certain enchanting notes that to my mind could symbolize Cthulu submerged under water and the drums could represent with their powerful repetitive beat the opening of the portals, I might have even heard Yog Sothoth name being repeated, again, appropriate for the atmosphere. One word of caution to those who only experience casual interest in Lovecraft and his works, the music becomes very, very loud after 8pm. It is probably obvious to all visitors, but if you think you know and appreciate loud music and only like, say classic rock, however hard, the modern goth is an entirely different entity in volume, I have seen several people leaving the bar and commenting on the volume, but it is in truth appropriate for the bar's theme. Hopefully forewarned, you will know what to expect. I was able to detect several familiar themes on the wall and some tables. The portrait of HP Lovecraft himself, a few classic horror movies, Creature of the Blue Lagoon, Black Sunday, possibly the classic The Flying Serpent from 1946. Among modern references, naturally Pinhead of Hellraiser took center stage. The head of Cthulu was also cute. So, there were some good things about the bar. If you can accept loud music, go to enjoy the atmosphere, order only regular drinks and don't stay up for too long, it might be ok. But it kind of ruined my vibe that the staff was not too friendly, not just the male bartender but other staff members too. Granted, the Lovecraft universe itself sometimes seems grim and unwelcoming, but unless you as a staff member are wearing an appropriate horror mask, you cannot afford to be. And my suggestion to the bar's owner is to stick with managerial decisions. You understand decor, you have an ear for good music, but a people's person you certainly are not, most of your people are not either, with the single exception of a male waiter who was cleaning the tables one night. And really, you don't have to be, just hire friendlier people and do what you are good at. But otherwise, you really detract from the efficiency of your product with your unwilling presence. So you can keep arguing with every review you don't like, as you do, or change things to make more...

Falling Short of Goth Culture

The first and most important point to make is that Coffin Club is not a goth bar. While the venue has a gothic aesthetic and attracts goth patrons, the music, atmosphere, and ownership seem disconnected from the culture. It feels more like a cargo cult—a shallow imitation of a once-great scene, hoping to summon its former glory without understanding what made it thrive.

The second concern is how the venue’s presentation manipulates expectations. Many patrons, drawn by the promise of a goth club, are left settling for an experience that doesn’t live up to the culture’s standards. This isn't their fault—they’re being sold an idea that isn’t delivered.

Here’s what I’ve experienced:

First Visit: The spouse of the booking manager pretended to be staff and got extremely aggressive with someone standing near me—an autistic man who was clearly just trying to relax and connect. The aggressor made threats, pushed, and poked him, escalating the situation unnecessarily. I had to step in to back him down, which was unacceptable behavior for any venue, let alone one that claims to foster a welcoming community.

Second Visit: On Halloween, the music was exclusively European disco—completely at odds with goth culture. The event felt like a gimmick aimed at normies looking to dance with goth girlfriends rather than an authentic celebration of the scene on its most important holiday. We even have a song about how important Halloween is to our culture. Nothing about the night felt like I was at a goth bar.

Third Visit: The DJing was again lackluster. Transitions were nonexistent, the song selection was baffling, and patrons had to tip just to hear goth music. Since it was a slow night, I thought it was a new DJ trying out for a spot on the roster. Shockingly, it was the queen herself. Someone held up as one of Portland’s goth scene leaders. I couldn't believe it. What I thought was some young bedroom DJ testing their nerve in front of a crowd for the first time turned out to be Barbie.

I truly want to like Coffin Club, but the venue falls far short of its promise. Its offerings feel disconnected and poorly executed, making it hard to view it as a true goth bar. With more respect for the culture and a focus on authentic experiences, there’s potential here—but significant...