I recently ran across what was left of 6367 Richmond when I passed a restaurant sign that read "For Rent: Build to Suit" adjacent to a large conspicuously empty piece of land. I had to find it out what it was...
In 1981, the Rusty Scupper restaurant was opened at 6367 Richmond. The Texas Monthly wrote that the Rusty Scupper was a "restaurant and club whose interior contains a hint of the high-tech fad: the air-conditioning ducts hang visibly along the supporting structures and the staircases. The bar area has small couches that flank coffee tables in a sort of multiple living room arrangement, and set into the alls are round alcoves for hiding away." One of the last mentions of the Rusty Scupper in the paper was in 1985, and it was quickly replaced with The Safari Bar & Restaurant (possibly even a re-theme of the restaurant) before the end of 1985.
Safari Bar disappeared after 1987 before the space re-emerging as The Rose on Richmond in 1989. As you can see in this Houston Post photo in 1989 the architecture described by Texas Monthly hadn't changed much since the Rusty Scupper days. In 1993, The Rose closed and was replaced by Blue Planet, and and in spring 1998, the club reopened once more as Powerplant Dance Factory, which in late 1999 was renamed Shock: ("This New York-style, high-energy dance club boasts an underground dance floor and an impressive light show. Those ages 18 and older are welcome.") In December 2000, Blink opened. ("Visit the latest dance club to hit the Bayou City. Blink offers music that consists of current hits and a combination of '70s, '80s, and '90s music.") Another article mentioned that it was stylized as "blink" and featured hydraulic lifts for the dance floor.
The last thing I can find for this address is Blast, which operated from spring 2003 to early 2004 (Blink had shut down in early 2002).
No further hits on the address occurred on newspaper archives after 2000, likely due to the decline of Richmond as a nightlife spot. Sometime in 2004 or 2005 the building was demolished, only to be replaced about a decade later by some odd concrete circles connected by sidewalks (purpose unknown, but Google Street View suggests some sort of fly-by-night used car and boat lot). The property continues to be vacant, though the parking lot and the concrete circles remain.
