Mike Brooks
Audio By Carbonatix
The city of Dallas is officially one year into its 950-day construction project, and to no one’s shock, businesses are struggling more than ever as the city pushes dirt around Commerce Street in Deep Ellum.
The 250-year-old entertainment district is getting kicked while it’s down. It started with Good Latimer getting a facelift to the likes of Kris Jenner: nightclubs like Bottled Blonde (now Palomino Ranch), Citizen, Green Light Social and others all popped up within a span of a few years and reign supreme with some the city’s highest liquor sales now.
In the midst of all that, a surge in late-night violence led a flood of social media posts from people from Frisco saying they don’t go to Deep Ellum, implying they value their lives. Others call it Gotham with no Batman.
It’s another conversation as to why dialogues like these are so damaging to Deep Ellum; many avoid the neighborhood entirely. And as if all that wasn’t bad enough, city leaders decided to undertake a 2.5-year construction project, creating one massive hellscape of orange cones and one-way streets. Parking, though? That’s actually manageable.
Unnecessary Challenges
John Jay Myers is a longtime Deep Ellum restaurateur who plays a significant role in the local music scene. He owns The Free Man Cajun Cafe & Lounge on Commerce Street, a restaurant and venue that hosts jazz bands and live music nightly. He’s weathered the neighborhood’s ups and downs for almost 15 years at this spot. Myers took to Facebook this week to address the city’s bureaucratic incompetence in supporting Deep Ellum’s struggling businesses.
“We need to be transparent about the massive, unnecessary challenges hitting us from all sides right now,” Myers starts in the post. “We are fighting every single day to keep the soul of this place — and Deep Ellum’s historic commitment to live music — alive.”
The receipts detail how city decisions have affected the neighborhood, starting with its failure to protect.
“Our decline started before the construction, when crime prevention was abandoned on our streets,” Myers writes. “The City of Dallas effectively sent a message that criminal behavior would go unchecked. This has driven away the good element and empowered the bad, creating an environment that is devastating for all legitimate businesses.”
Myers calls the second culprit the “great construction boondoggle,” and it’s much more than an inconvenience. For over a year, construction has consumed Commerce Street, and many restaurants are now barely hanging on due to the poor handling of project management.
‘The Absurdity of “Help”‘
The little financial assistance offered to businesses has been inadequate.
“We went to our landlords looking for temporary relief,” Myers continues. “Their one condition? We must close at Midnight. This wasn’t help; it was an ultimatum designed to neuter the entire reason Deep Ellum exists. Entertainment districts in real cities don’t shut down at 12 AM. Taking that “help” would cost us an extra $20,000 per month and turn us into something we are not. We refused. How much money do you want to put into trying to save something when you believe if your lease ends it will not be renewed?”
Myers said he’s cut over $20,000 monthly just to keep his lounge alive. He has also cut service hours, which has cut employees’ hours and jobs. He has also started hiring fewer bands and reduced the number of bands from four on two stages to just three.
No Covers and Mandated Chaos
What Myers calls the “fatal blow” was when the city told them they’re not allowed to charge a cover or door fee. Covers are governed by the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission; only bars can charge covers. The Free Man is technically a restaurant.
Myers’ team at The Free Man met with Dallas code compliance to attempt to resolve this. He explained on Facebook that he could restructure his business as a venue, which would allow him to charge a cover, but the tax implications would hurt his business even more.
For The Free Man, the $10 cover fee paid for the bands allows Myers to focus the restaurant’s income on staff and overhead, and served as a small, but effective, barrier for problematic people who he says plague other parts of the district.
“The result of this new mandate is chaos. Our bands are now struggling, our margins are collapsing, and the pressure to pay musicians what they deserve — without that dedicated income stream — is becoming too much to bear,” Myers writes.
Myers closes the post asking for those who believe in Deep Ellum, live music and local businesses, to come out any day or night, hang out for happy hour or buy a little extra food.
“We are not asking for charity, we are asking for your support to fight back and keep this unique venue alive. […] We are still here. We are still fighting. But we need our community to stand with us now more than ever,” Myers writes.
The construction in Deep Ellum is scheduled to be complete in 2026, allegedly. There’s a trove of local businesses in the neighborhood that need our help to get by. Cane Rosso serves a mean breakfast sandwich; Revolver Taco Lounge has fresh tortillas made by abuelas; get out there and support the restaurants that make Deep Ellum great.
“Good people lost their jobs, the early jazz acts lost a venue, and I worry about what else will need to happen to survive til the construction is over,” Myers shared with the Observer. “Does Dallas still need a place playing live music seven nights a week on two stages from 7 pm to 2 am? I know that’s ambitious, but we have done that for over 14 years. We just want to keep going.”
