It was the idea of the Cologne record company Emi Electrola to hold the first Queen concert outside Great Britain in Muffendorf. They wanted to see the then still unknown band live and spontaneously asked club owner Juppi Schäfer if they could perform at his place on the same evening. He agreed, but made the condition that no fee had to be paid. So about 30 music fans enjoyed the German premiere of Queen - in the original line-up with singer Freddie Mercury, guitarist Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor and bassist John Deacon.

Four years earlier, Schäfer, who himself had been a member of the Godesberg bands The Row and Viscounts, had rented the vacant hall behind the Zur Post inn to open a music club on the main street of the picturesque Bad Godesberg district. Spartanly furnished with old mattresses, on which one sat, drank and partly also spent the night.

Word of the new club quickly spread through the scene. Young people from as far away as Dortmund and Wuppertal made weekly pilgrimages to the tranquil village of Muffendorf, where a suspicious cloud of scent always hung over the place. The underground made no secret of its hashish consumption, turning disused bedpans into collective ashtrays. "It was very dark, loud and simple," recalls Jens Hoffmeister (74). "Even from today's perspective, parents would still forbid their children to go there." Hoffmeister was lead singer of Proud Flesh - the first band to perform for an audience of about 400 at the music club's launch on Oct. 4, 1969. Nomen est omen. "It was an honour for us to open that back then."

The fee was small. "Tip, I would call it today," Hoffmeister states, but that was fine with him and his bandmates. "We were all still in training - there were no big fees." The bands in the underground had to bring their own equipment and amplifiers. Instead of spotlights, there was only a small lamp that at least illuminated the stage a little. The rest sank into darkness. "That was probably intentional," Hoffmeister surmises with a grin.

The Muffendorf Cave was open Thursdays through Sundays from 7 p.m. and 5 p.m. to 1 a.m., respectively. Admission prices to the self-proclaimed "house of good music" ranged from five to seven deutschmarks, although it was cheaper with a season club card. In return, the youth were offered a variety of entertainment in addition to a tea room, TV and reading room: There were live concerts with (Kraut) rock and blues music, performances by the club's own theatre group, on Fridays they played table tennis, and on Thursdays there was movie night, which of course was a thorn in the side of the operator of the Burg-Lichtspiele. That's probably why the monthly programme was emblazoned with the addendum: "But we can't (are not allowed to) do any advertising for these films." Up-and-coming bands from the region also had their chance - including Wolfgang Niedecken with his Rheinbach troupe.

In the early 1970s, the musical style became harder and more international. Scorpions, Uriah Heep and Roger Horne's Steamhammer made the club shake - and brought fame to Bonn bands like Electric Sandwich as opening acts.

However, the planned appearance of Status Quo was not to happen at all. "The reason was Schäfer's grandma," reports Klaus Berger. The 73-year-old beat fan used to be a guitarist with the Bonn band Pinky Blue and interviewed contemporary witnesses such as Juppi Schäfer for his collection on the Bonn beat scene of the 1960s (www.bn-beat.de). He revealed that his curious grandmother constantly appeared in the improvised dressing room in the backstage area, where the musicians actually wanted to change in peace. Until it became too much for them and they cancellled the gig without further ado.

The Underground also had trouble with the neighbours, who repeatedly complained to the public order office about the loudness of the club. The fire department and building inspectors also regularly came to the door and criticised the fire safety of the improvised mattress warehouse. Thus came what had to come: in 1975 the music club was closed and the anarchy came to an abrupt end. Today, the Muffendorf building complex houses a business and is not open to the public.

Original text: Martina Sondermann

Translation: Mareike Graepel