Matt Grim's method
is the stuff of legend

By Shawn 'Speedy' Lopes
Star-Bulletin

Rolling into an Ala Moana-area parking lot in his gunmetal Mercedes 190E, Matthew Grim may as well pull up in a spaceship. The Honolulu underground's most mythical figure steps out garbed in a casual shorts-and-slippers ensemble ludicrously juxtaposed with a limp, unkempt mohawk from hell.

The night is young, and the self-made oddity is eager to discuss his upcoming CD release party over dinner. Recently signed to the Hypnotic label (which represents such electronic luminaries as Paul Oakenfold, Juno Reactor and 808 State), Grim is looking for some well-deserved notice, and tonight, he's getting it at the Kapiolani Boulevard KFC.

At the counter he ponders his options with excruciating deliberation while the cashier tries not to stare at the space on his face where his eyebrows should be. How good is that?

For a decade and a half, the colorful Grim has been a masterful one-man freak show-slash-marketing machine. In addition to erecting a string of successful underground nightclubs (Sub Club, The Faktory, Zone 24, Sanctuary, etc.) in Honolulu, he has hustled his way into private Hollywood parties, a Marilyn Manson video and, now, a recording contract.

He has played to rabid fans across the mainland, in Hong Kong, Thailand, the Philippines and Mexico. Still, he said, he is haunted by his own reputation here at home, which has grown into legend over the years. The rumors are usually unflattering or damaging and, according to Grim, often preposterous and unfounded. "The worst thing I've heard about me is something I wouldn't even repeat, it's so horrible," he says.

Myth No. 1: Matt Grim's a rich kid who bought his way into the scene. "My mom brought us up total hippie-style: living on the beach, living on boats," says Grim, who moved here with his family from California at the age of 7. "In Maui we lived in an abandoned church. I remember there was no money, and we'd have to, like, go cut down bananas and bring 'em to the health food store to trade for food or whatever.

"A lot of people say, 'Oh, Grim's born with a silver spoon.'" He grimaces. "Whatever, dude. It's the farthest thing from the truth."

Myth No. 2: Matt Grim thinks he started the Honolulu underground. Actually, he readily admits to being a dweebish wannabe in the Golden Age of local alt-rock. During the '80s, he remembers "going to St. Louis for high school. I was just a dork. I had this messed-up, curly Jewish hair and, seriously, like, not very cool. People used to call me Harpo because I used to carry a stupid horn," he said, his left hand squeezing the air for effect. "That was my claim to fame. I was Harpo!"

Perhaps out of pity, several old-school punk-rockers took him under their wing and instructed him in the ways of their fringe clique. With a newly minted fake ID, Grim scammed his way into 3D, the now-legendary new-wave hotspot in Waikiki, eventually shedding his poseur image and gaining valuable insight into the workings of the Honolulu underground.

He shipped off to San Jose for college in '84 and made his way into the city's punk scene, which according to Grim was "just about drinking and causing fights."

Quickly tiring of those circles, he decided to stage his own events, which, like those he attended in Hawaii, were more inclusive and diverse. Offering both live bands and a variety of danceable Gothic and synth-based music, they soon drew a sizable and loyal following. "All of a sudden, the chicks were hotter," he says with a chuckle.

Soon after teaming with his younger brother Michael, the Brothers Grim became the teenage Goth kings of San Jose, eventually moving on to bigger and better ventures, such as rock concerts. While Matt had great ideas for punk and metal shows, it was Michael who had the gall to call up bands' booking agencies and deliberately lowball them.

It usually worked. "We paid Megadeth 1,400 bucks, and that's when 'Peace Sells (But Who's Buying?)' was out and went gold already," remembers the elder Grim. "Testament, we paid 400 bucks. He got Suicidal Tendencies when they were getting big again for 1,200 bucks or something ridiculous."

After several years, Grim returned to Hawaii to continue his deejaying career and eventually established his own clubs in the Kakaako area during the early to mid-'90s. It seemed that whenever any of his nightspots would take off, however, the Honolulu Community Development Authority would attempt to shut him down over a lack of on-site parking.

With such a specific technicality, suspicious scenesters marvel at how a hugely popular mainstream club like Pipeline Cafe (which is several times larger than any of Grim's clubs) has managed to flourish in the same area.

Now, Myth No. 3: Matt Grim is only in it for the money. "I must've spent I-don't-know-how-many tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees to keep my clubs alive," he says. "People don't understand this is my life; I don't have anything to fall back on. I live and die with what I do for a living. Doesn't that prove my heart is in it?"

These days, he wonders how so much has changed so quickly. He once despised techno and acid house yet now finds himself touring the world as a trance and house deejay in the same ghastly haircut and makeup he wore as a teenage punk-rocker more than a decade ago.

"It's a shame," Grim says, that club kids are now more fashionable than the dreary deejays they idolize. "How can you look up to that?" he asks, scratching his shaved skull. "Maybe Armand Van Helden looks cool, so I would put him in the 'cool' category, but Moby looks like a dork. Fatboy Slim? Oh my God! What is it -- the more dorky you are, the bigger you get?" He shakes his head and unleashes a cackle. "I don't know," he says, "I must just like looking like a freak."

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