The neon lights of Nectar’s, a cornerstone of Burlington’s music scene for half a century, have finally gone dark. In an era where streaming dominates and mega-venues rule the concert landscape, the closure of this humble Vermont institution feels particularly poignant — like watching the final notes fade from a beloved song.
Started by Greek immigrant Nectar Rorris back in ’75, the venue’s story reads like a classic American tale. Rorris, now pushing 87, remembers scraping together loans from family to open what would become a legendary music spot. “They borrowed money from their parents. I did the same and we closed the deal,” he recalls, his voice still carrying traces of pride mixed with nostalgia.
But let’s talk about Phish. Because you can’t tell the story of Nectar’s without mentioning the band that turned this modest Burlington joint into hallowed ground for jam band devotees. During their early-80s residency, Phish developed their signature sound within these brick walls — a creative evolution that would eventually fill stadiums worldwide. The band’s gratitude runs deep; their 1992 album “A Picture of Nectar” stands as a permanent tribute to both the venue and its founder.
Metal Mondays. Dead Set Tuesdays. Blues nights that stretched into dawn. Nectar’s wasn’t just about one sound or scene — it was a musical laboratory where genres collided and new sounds emerged. Alex Budney, who started in the kitchen at 19 back in ’01, puts it perfectly: “We’d provide tools for bands to make it.” Simple as that.
The magic? It was in those impossible-to-replicate moments of connection. Take last September, when Phish’s Mike Gordon casually hopped onstage during Maggie Rose’s set for an impromptu jam. Or consider Rose herself, who deliberately rerouted her entire tour just to play there. “The lore of Nectar’s did not disappoint,” she says — and really, how could it?
From Grace Potter to B.B. King, from Anais Mitchell to countless local acts cutting their teeth on that storied stage, Nectar’s remained a sanctuary for live music even as Burlington evolved around it. But urban development and economic pressures proved relentless. Construction projects chipped away at foot traffic; costs kept climbing. By summer 2023, the writing was on the wall — first a “pause,” then the final curtain call.
Justin Remillard, who spent 25 years booking electronic acts at the venue, offers some perspective: “Fifty years is an amazing run for a nightclub. The only constant is change.” He’s right, of course. Yet as downtown Burlington enters 2025 without its musical heartbeat, the loss feels raw.
Sure, the physical space might become something else — perhaps another sleek bar or boutique shop. But Nectar’s legacy? That’s permanent. It’s in the countless musicians who found their voice there, in the community that formed around those legendary gravy fries and late-night jams, in the stories that’ll keep getting passed down about that little club in Vermont where magic happened nearly every night.
Sometimes the smallest stages create the biggest ripples. Nectar’s proved that for half a century — not bad for a dream that started with a borrowed loan and a whole lot of hope.