On Friday 7 August, less than a week after the largest Pride event in the UK, the Charles Street Tap bar in Brighton (UK) announced it would close after 25 years. A few days later, the R-Bar also announced that after 21 years, it would soon close. Both these venues sit on Brighton’s seafront looking across to the famous Brighton Palace Pier. It’s possibly as central and as prominent as you can get.

The news has caused quite the stir with all the local news sites weighing in, and even the MP for Brighton Kemptown and Peacehaven promising to raise a question about it in Parliament.

Hospitality venues closing over the past couple of decades is nothing new. Figures suggest we’re averaging two pub closures every day, but as queer venues are a small proportion of venues in total, their closure becomes even more noticeable, especially in one of the gayest cities in the UK. 

An article on BBC News in February 2024 said that 60% of LGBTQ+ venues in London had closed since 2006 yet when you look at the closures of all pubs and bars across London between 2001 and 2018, it’s 25%. There’s even a list of all the queer venues that have closed which makes poignant reading for many of us who frequented queer London life over the past 30 years.

There are many reasons for these businesses failing, from the cost-of-living crisis to increased business taxes and high rents from greedy landlords (a gay gym I used to go to in London closed when their landlord tripled their rent overnight). I would also think that the rise in social media and dating apps has lessened people’s desire to go out. Why go out when you can order in?

So, maybe we as a community have taken our eye off the ball? Maybe we’ve become complacent and relied on the notion that these places will always exist. Until they aren’t.  We should never underestimate the value of queer spaces, though. In a heteronormative world, they provide a few square feet of space where we can be ourselves without having to watch what we say and how we present ourselves. Essentially, these spaces provide freedom.

One issue experienced by queer venues over the past decade or so has been the proliferation of hen parties descending upon our spaces. Whilst we welcome straight people, when they take over, it becomes a problem, and the people these spaces are for tend to stay away. It’s a double-edged sword though as businesses are understandably reluctant to turn away paying customers.

One criticism I’ve heard is that some bars try to be a jack of all trades but master of none. They offer a cocktail menu, but it’s unimaginative. They offer food, but it’s a bit dull and you can get better elsewhere. They offer entertainment, but it’s a bit tired and samey.  I’m no businessman, but one solution might be to pick one thing and do it really well; create a USP.

One ray of hope locally came when, after another bar on Brighton’s seafront closed its doors and after this prime location remained empty for nearly a year, it re-opened under new management as The Birdcage. We went in there last night, in fact, and it was busy (though two small hen parties were still very present).

So, while many queer venues might cater to the party crowd, two good examples of more idiosyncratic venues in Brighton are The Fallen Angel and The Actors. While not explicitly targeted at a queer crowd, The Fallen Angel is a lovely, quiet queer-run pub that attracts a queer crowd.  The Actors is another side street venue in the centre of Brighton near the Pavilion. Famous locally for being the most inclusive venue in town, you can go to this award-winning venue for a quiet pint and feel 100% safe in your environment; it also offers quirky entertainment you’re unlikely to find elsewhere.

I guess the maxim use it or lose it is at the heart of all this. If we want queer spaces to continue, we need to go to them and support them. A gay bar is for life, not just for Pride.