Time To Laugh
Time to laugh, at 394 Princess, was, in theory, a comedy club. And to be fair, there were comedians there. People did, in fact, laugh. But for many of us, it’s true legacy lives somewhere between a basement legend, a punk waypoint, and the kind of venue you could only find by briefly convincing yourself you were about to walk into the wrong building.
Nestled on Princess Street beneath the shadow of Stages Nightclub… which always seemed to stand nearby like a slightly intimidating older cousin in a leather jacket… Time to Laugh had an entrance that inspired just enough uncertainty to make the night feel promising. You’d pause outside for a moment, glance at the door, maybe check the poster in your hand, and think, No, this can’t possibly be right. And then of course it was. That was part of the charm, and also, in many ways, a perfect summary of downtown Kingston architecture.
Inside, the room revealed itself as one of those spaces where there was almost no separation between performer and audience. “Intimate” doesn’t quite cover it. This was the kind of intimate where a comedian’s awkward silence became a shared civic event, or the opening chord of a hardcore set physically rearranged the ice cubes in your drink. Every show felt personal. Not in a sentimental way, more in the sense that once you were there, you were involved.
Though it’s name suggested punchlines, Time to Laugh became a vital home for Kingston Punk Productions, hosting local and touring punk, rock, emo, screamo, metal, hardcore, and the many emotionally urgent musical dialects that end in -core.
It was spacious enough to feel alive, rough enough to feel real, and held together by friendly staff, a solid sound system, and the particular downtown Kingston magic of seeming just a little bit sketchy in a way that somehow made you trust it more.
It was equally suited to a date night, a fundraiser, a night out with friends, or the very specific experience of showing up alone and leaving with a new favourite band and a low-grade ringing in one ear.
The kind of place you went to on a whim and later talked about like it was a landmark, because in it’s own strange, slightly dimly lit way, it was.
What follows is a small archive of those nights: posters from a venue that, at various times, was a comedy club, a punk venue, a fundraising space, a date night idea, and something that probably made a fire inspector pause for a long moment then quietly leave.
Artists appearing in this poster collection: 3 Inches of Blood, Anti Flag, Barn Burner, Cancer Bats, Captain Kife, Cherub, Darkness Rites, The Dillinger Escape Plan, The End, Fear Before the March of Flames, Goatwhore, The Gorgeous, If Hope Dies, Jucifer, Landmine Marathon, Meathook, The Mezingers, Mute, Napalm Death, October Blood, Ponderous Chain, PS I Love You, Rufio, Secret Pizza Party, Strung Out, Skeletonwitch, We Are The Union, What the Shit? and Withered.
If one of these bands has caught your eye, the tags at the bottom of the page offer a way to continue the investigation further into the archive, and possibly into a very specific era of your life.
