Exclusive: Bottom of the Hill Sold, Will Continue as Live Music Venue
The storied San Francisco club will reopen in 2027 under new ownership.
The storied San Francisco club will reopen in 2027 under new ownership.
This week we've got a broth bar buffet, a backwards reading of the U.S. Constitution, rice porridge for dogs, and more.
(It all depends on how you define the word "can.")
The storied San Francisco club will reopen in 2027 under new ownership.
Call off the funeral procession, Bottom of the Hill fans. Reports of the clubâs death have been greatly exaggerated.
The San Francisco music venue will live on under new ownership in 2027, longtime owners Kathleen Owen, Ramona Downey, and Lynn Schwarz told COYOTE in an exclusive interview at the venue on Tuesday, Oct. 20, alongside incoming proprietor Michele Bronson.
Ten months after Bottom of the Hillâs owners announced the club would shutter at the end of 2026, plans have changed. Come January 2027, Owen and Downey will retain ownership of the 115-year-old Edwardian building in Potrero Hill, including the two second-floor apartments, while Bronson has purchased the club as a business, name intact. A veteran of the biotech industry, Bronson is also a passionate live music fan whoâs been a regular at BotH since the early â90s; this is her first venture in the music business.
The clubâs just-announced New Yearâs Eve show with Shannon Shaw will be its longtime ownersâ last hurrah before Bronsonâs lease â which is structured as three five-year terms â goes into effect. The trio declined to disclose any further financial details.
Aside from the three owners, Bronson aims to keep the clubâs entire staff. About half of the 19 current employees have confirmed they will stay on.
Of course, a few changes are afoot: Bronson plans to close the club for at least a month, mostly for city code-related upgrades to the kitchen and bar, before reopening. There will be some updates to the website and ticketing system as well. Most notably, she expects to lead booking at Bottom of the Hill 2.0 herself, at least for now, with support from her family and current staff.

But overall, Bronson says her goal is to preserve the homey feel and independent character that have made the 247-capacity club sacred ground for up-and-coming artists since it opened in 1991.
âOne of the amazing things that Bottom of the Hill has always done is make sure local bands are on the bills,â says Bronson. âThey truly support the local music scene.â Maintaining Bottom of the Hillâs independence is âessential,â she adds, in a landscape of âbig venues ⌠owned by evil, vertically integrated companies.â
Small venues like Bottom of the Hill, she says, âkeep the music ecosystem going.â
In a group interview on the venueâs cozy back patio, the trio of owners emphasized several times that they never intended to mislead anyone with their announcement about the impending closure.
âWe were very much leaning toward not selling the business. Like, this dies with us,â says Schwarz.

But hearing what Bottom of the Hill meant to people helped change their minds. They got notes from musicians who were devastated to lose one of the last venues in San Francisco not booked exclusively by a corporate promoter. One agent told them that, if Bottom closed, they might skip the city entirely when developing indie rock bands. At shows, the trio says they felt a mix of gratitude and anger from patrons.
âIn the beginning ⌠we were these bad guys. You know, âYouâre closing our beloved Bottom of the Hill,ââ says Downey, who booked the club from its opening in 1991 until 2017 and still works the bar two nights a week. Owen describes the days following the announcement as âstressful,â receiving 50 texts in an hour, while Schwarz recalls an outpouring of love, alongside some enthusiastic yet misguided early inquiries.
âA friend asked me âHow much for your IPO?ââ she says. âIâm like, âWhat the fuck is an IPO?ââ
Still, the âtidal waveâ of reactions made them reconsider closing. âWe started to think, hmm, maybe weâre not that special,â says Schwarz. âMaybe we can let someone else take on this legacy.â
While the owners fielded nearly 40 inquiries, including several from friends and music scene comrades, Bronsonâs enthusiasm stood out from the jump. Her initial email was a love letter to live music â with photos to prove it.
Bronson describes something of a double life, with her days consumed by science and nights by shows. Growing up in San Antonio, she worked at an independent record store, Hogwild Records. After completing her education in Texas (she has a PhD in molecular biology from UT Southwestern Medical Center), she moved to San Francisco in the early â90s and helped launch or lead five different biotech startups over the following three decades, overseeing the development of new drugs, including cancer treatments.
She also fell in love with the cityâs music scene. Bronson became a regular at the Sunday barbecues that were a staple at Bottom of the Hill in the â90s, a tradition she might want to revive. Asked about other memorable shows at the club, she names the White Stripes (2000) and Fleet Foxes (2008, opening for Blitzen Trapper, according to Bottom of the Hillâs archives). The new LLC sheâs formed for the club is named âI Saw Them When.â

Bronson estimates that she sees 60 shows a year, not counting festivals and her annual pilgrimage to South by Southwest.
Her daughter Thia, who accompanied her mom to the interview and plans to help out with club operations, says live music has shaped her life since before she was born.
Two decades ago, âMy mom had tickets to see Yo La Tengo at the Fillmore on June 10th, so she scheduled my C-section [delivery] for June 11th,â explains the younger Bronson.

While Michele has been set on buying the club since January, the owners were still wrestling with agonizing decisions. After enlisting local nightlife veteran turned realtor Guy Carson as their broker, the trio decided to retain the real estate. Someone could purchase the building while promising to keep it a music venue, they realized, and a year later raze it for condos.
âWe owe a debt to this neighborhood, and we donât want to do that to our neighbors,â says Schwarz.
By early summer, they had three serious offers. Bronson was the only suitor they didnât already know and love, and turning down the others involved some tearful conversations. But the owners were unanimous: They liked Bronsonâs business acumen, âsomething we didnât have when we became owners here,â says Schwarz.
Left to right: Venue staff, who the club owners describe as family, at a recent Christmas party; Lynn Schwarz, Kathleen Owen, and Ramona Downey outside the club at a 25th anniversary show in 2016. (Photos courtesy of Lynn Schwarz)
Bronsonâs promise to keep original staff helped earn the trioâs trust. (âTheyâre our family,â says Downey.) They also liked that Bronson is used to getting up at 5:30am to work as the chief development officer of a biotech company after being at a show until 1am.
âTo me, startups are very similar to [running a venue],â says Bronson. âYou wear 20 different hats and you have to understand all the aspects of the business, and it's a margins game.â
Booking, however â an art, a science, and a fulltime job itself â will be a new experience for Bronson. She is aware that she has âvery big shoesâ to fill, especially given the clubâs reputation as a place to catch a rising star and a proving ground for indie bands that go on to play much larger rooms.

Under Downey, bands including Arcade Fire, Oasis, Beastie Boys, Alanis Morissette, Lizzo, Green Day, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs all played Bottom of the Hillâs tiny stage. Schwarz took the reins in 2017, after learning from Downey for years, and has maintained its reputation as a thoughtfully booked room. Sheâs responsible for bands like Bratmobile, Deerhoof, Heavens to Betsy, and Ted Leo and the Pharmacists all returning to play during the venueâs 2026 victory lap.
But reflecting on the clubâs early days, Owen recalls that she and Downey barely had any idea what they were doing. âBack then ⌠[booking] happened through word of mouth,â says Owen. âIt was mainly local bands that had played at the Blue Lamp, where we worked before, and they loved how they were treated there⌠so they would call and want to come back.â
She still remembers when the pair received their first actual contract from a booking agent, for a Sebadoh show. âWe were like âWhat is this?ââ

Some 35 years later, Bronson has begun attending âbooking schoolâ with Schwarz and has already confirmed a couple shows, to be announced next year. âA big part of the attraction was getting to transition with you guys,â she tells her predecessors. And sheâs grateful that sheâs not starting from scratch: Agents and artists already know and love the club.
As for her approach, Bronson says sheâs energized by the chance to support indie artists at a time when the live music landscape is increasingly dominated by conglomerates. (She referred to one well-known ticketing agent as âTicketfucker.â) She also plans to maintain artist-friendly hallmarks of the clubâs operations, such as not taking a cut of bandsâ merch sales.
âIâm a music lover ⌠and itâs very hard to make a living as a band,â says Bronson, noting that the pandemic, in particular, laid bare the fragility of the profession. âI donât get to enjoy music unless bands can make a living, right?â

Bottom of the Hillâs owners bristle at the word âretirement.â
Downey, a textile artist, plans to focus on her loom work, take classes at the Richmond Art Center, and do more gardening. Owen deadpans that she has no plans beyond cleaning her room. Schwarz, the youngest of the trio by a decade, says sheâs taking âa gap year.â
For now, Bottom of the Hillâs original owners are enjoying their final run of shows. Especially since they began hinting that the place might live on as a music venue â rumors have swirled for months now â the vibe at the club has been impeccable.
âI canât tell you how much love I feel across that bar,â says Downey. âPeople want to tell you stories about the shows they went to here, or âWhen I was 17, I came here, and now my kid whoâs 17 comes here, and this is what it means to me.ââ (Theyâve also heard a handful of confessions from old-timers about ways they used to sneak in without paying.)
Schwarz is keeping a Word document titled âNice Things People Said,â where she pastes especially kind emails and social media comments. She estimates itâs currently 500 pages, and plans to print a book for her partners by the yearâs end.
âIt is beyond overwhelming, the amount of tributes and testimonials and lovely things people have sent us over the past 10 months,â says Schwarz, adding that this has been âthe best year of my life.â
As for the ownersâ initial concern about protecting the venueâs legacy, Bronson says sheâs âhonoredâ that they selected her. âI hope I honor them,â she says.
But Downey, Owen, and Schwarz no longer seem to feel burdened by the clubâs history. Its future, they say, is up to fans.
âOur final year proved how much this community cares, but running an independent venue takes constant support,â says Schwarz. âIf you keep coming to shows and showing Michele that same love, this place will thrive.
âThe people that have supported us and made this place get to decide our legacy now.â
Bottom of the Hill has a full calendar of shows now through Dec. 31.
Emma Silvers is a San Francisco journalist with 15+ years of experience covering the people and policies shaping arts and culture in the Bay. She grew up in Albany and lives in the Mission.
View articles