How this San Francisco venue's gamble on punk rock paid off
“One of the performers rode a motorcycle into the bar,” says Fred Schrunk, co-owner of the Knockout, recalling an evening at the drag show “Woman.” “We made this whole [safety] plan … when I could have just been like, ‘F—k that. That’s the dumbest idea; no other bar owner would ever say yes.’”
This was an above-average night at the Outer Mission bar and venue, which has seen a drummer crowd-surf with their kit, musicians play on the bartop, twerking contests, and other nightly rock ’n’ roll antics. “I think me and Fred probably like that element of danger a little bit when it comes to art and music,” adds co-owner John Segura, who first opened the Knockout in 2005.
The Knockout has been a staple in San Francisco nightlife for a generation, and its anything-goes-in-art ethos draw everything from punk bands to hip-hop DJs, karaoke nights and “Simpsons” trivia, bingo, comedy and drag with, yes, motorcycles. It has been a home base for regular parties, a jumping-off for popular DJ nights and bands, and has been the site of some groundbreaking performances. The Knockout’s events calendar is one of the most diverse in the city, often featuring two events a night, and it has managed to ride the waves of taste (and weather a pandemic) for nearly 20 years.
From the Wild West to the center of the scene
3223 Mission was built in the 1890s and was originally a corset shop, according to SF Historical Society volunteer researcher Ann Raftery. Over the years, the storefront housed a dentist office, real estate office, a jeweler, a bakery and a liquor store. Between 1957 and 1972, the site was various incarnations of a bar called the Red Barn.
The building has been a bar ever since, with watering holes called the Golden Door, Guzzo’s Cocktails and the Brick House serving drinks between the ’70s and early ’90s. In 2000, the space was rebirthed as the Odeon, a wild and beloved bar that lasted for five years.
The creation of the Knockout in 2005 was part of a new wave of development in the Outer Mission. When Segura went to get permits for his new bar, city officials told him the neighborhood used to be like the Wild West. While the Knockout was preceded by venues like El Rio and community spaces such as Blue Plate, Schrunk felt it offered something the neighborhood was missing — a space that wasn’t dedicated to a particular scene, but to the creation of punk-influenced art in all its forms.
‘It was time to take a risk’
Segura moved to the Bay Area from Los Angeles. He grew up playing in bands, and after years working at the Elbo Room in the ’90s, he purchased the bar on Mission Street at Fair Avenue with his family.
“It was time to take a step, you know, take a risk really, and try to do our own venue and our own vision,” he recalls. Segura and brother DX ran the bar for 13 years, and Schrunk — who manages neighboring Thrillhouse Records and had been booking bands at the Knockout for years — became a co-owner in 2018.
“We didn’t have a clear game plan,” Segura says, adding that he and DX began by booking rockabilly and soul acts. “We had to really diversify quickly. I think that’s how it really became more of a punk rock venue as opposed to the lighter side of music.”
Garage punk was one of the dominant musical scenes in the Bay Area in 2005, and the Knockout saw early success with bookings from the Black Lips, the King Khan & BBQ Show and Jay Reatard.
“A lot of people got their start there, and blew up into higher, greater, bigger places or moved away,” says Paul Costuros, a bartender and longtime booker at the Knockout whose bands and DJ nights have also graced the venue’s small stage.
The Segura family tapped into their friend group to flesh out their calendar and, over the years, the Knockout hosted a number of popular DJ nights. Eventually, people began reaching out about burlesque shows, then drag and other music genres, ranging from house to hip-hop. Regular events like DJ Primo and Daniel’s Oldies Night, the hip-hop focused Booty Basement, ’90s night Debaser, and long-running parties like Sweater Funk and Teenage Dance Craze brought a younger crowd to the neighborhood.
Schrunk and Segura pride themselves on being accessible and providing “the best deal in town” for bands and DJs as a means of supporting the local arts community. “It’s kind of like what comes around goes around,” Schrunk says. “Maybe you’re not getting as much money from the show, but you’re getting the goodwill. So when somebody else has a good show, they want to bring it to you.”
While Costuros and Schrunk have been among the Knockout’s regular bookers for a decade, the owners paid special deference to legendary punk promoter Scott Alcoholocaust, who died in 2021. Alcoholocaust shared Segura and Schrunk’s ethos; his celebration of San Francisco’s music community superseded his desire to make any real money for it.
“He was an insanely important person, and him being gone has kind of left a hole that’s kind of impossible to fill,” Schrunk says. Adds Segura: “He was dedicated to the community for sure; and always the punk community, the music community, the city itself.”
A home for everyone
An openness to the city’s multifarious communities has been baked into the Knockout’s ideology from jump. The Segura family era of the Knockout included John’s sister Irene, a lesbian, and her wife Janice, and the venue has always been an ardent supporter of cutting-edge queer arts.
Costuros cites Batcave, a night of queer drag fronted by people of color and live cumbia/deathrock, as exemplary of the unique acts that have called the Knockout home. “[Host/organizer] Vampi took over a little bit where Scott left off, in the sense that he’s doing a lot of really really interesting shows. I’m really proud to have Batcave be a part of the Knockout.”
Early in its run, the Knockout hosted an episode of Kink.com’s Public Disgrace — an interactive porn series brought to the venue by someone Segura knew through the punk scene.
“We’re not ashamed of anything that’s happened there. People had a good time, it was something out of the ordinary. And, being a small venue, that was a nice payday for not really having to do much,” Segura says with a laugh, adding, “We have shot more than one porno at the Knockout!”
The best version of the Knockout
The venue has evolved over the years in ways big and small — paint has changed, art and tchotchkes have been added to the wall, a vintage photo booth has gone out of service because the chemicals essential to processing its images have been affected by the war in Ukraine. Notably, the Seguras moved the stage from next to the bar in 2008.
“You just couldn’t order a beer. You had to wait until the band was done because you’d be screaming at [the bartender],” Segura remembers.
The Knockout survived the worst of the pandemic the way many did: offering window service, doing livestreams on social media, and making the occasional underground drink delivery. They received a Save Our Stages grant and hosted multiple GoFundMe campaigns to pay rent and employee wages. Today, they’re slowly returning to pre-pandemic patron levels.
Notes from the Knockout: Clockwise from top left, Angel May, left, of the band Armamento Fatal, and Carlos Barrera of Kabra; the house margarita and one-of-a-kind root beer float; co-owner Fred Schrunk mixes up a fresh round; the Knockout has stood at 3223 Mission St. since 2005. (Kevin Kelleher & Emily Trinh/Special to SFGATE)
Schrunk and Segura have a variety of plans to improve and evolve their space, and Segura leans into something his old boss at the Elbo Room once told him: Don’t think of yourself as a small place; think bigger than what you really are.
“The only goal that we have is to try to be the best version of ourselves,” Segura says.