City Council member Tom Rasmussen held his campaign kickoff last night at the bizarrely retro Swedish Center on Dexter Avenue, a location untouched by time since 1962, complete with modish lanterns, massive mirrors, and an absurdly large padded piano bar wrapped around a cheap upright piano. (The Swedish Center newsletter says they’ve been doing some “renovations,” including moving the furniture around.)

The interlocking rooms were packed with dignitaries, candidates, music-industry professionals, senior citizens, and of course, the gays—one of Rasmussen’s key constituencies since his election in 2003.

While I expect to see the likes of City Council member Jan Drago, State Sen. Ed Murray, County Council President Larry Phillips and County Executive Ron Sims at campaign kickoffs, I was a bit surprised by the impressive bar- and music-industry turnout, which included several club owners (Marcus Charles, Jerry Everard), bar owners (Pete Hanning) and industry advocates (Dave Osgood, Tim Hatley, Dave Meinert) who don’t show their faces at many political fund-raisers—much less give money. Asked to explain the sudden show of strength for a man who’s fast asleep long before most of their patrons hit the streets, the industry folks responded that Rasmussen has staked out a position as one of their biggest supporters on the council.

Perhaps so, but he’s hardly made it one of his central issues. Rasmussen doesn’t even sit on the neighborhoods committee that will determine the fate of the mayor’s nightlife ordinance, and he’s far more closely identified with senior services and health-care issues than regulation of rock clubs. Still, his speech included an explicit (if somewhat awkward) shout-out to the music community. “Seattle does have an exciting music scene that other cities can only hope for,” Rasmussen said, “but the mayor wants to take our fun away, and I’m concerned about that.” That line, plus another about Seattle’s “strong and creative artistic and cultural scene,” won him loud applause.

When I asked music promoter Dave Meinert why he was supporting Rasmussen, he responded: “Two words: Margaret Pageler.” Rasmussen defeated the notoriously anti-fun council member four years ago to huge accolades from the music community. “That was the equivalent of dropping a house on the Wicked Witch of the West,” Osgood chimed in. Industry lobbyist Tim Hatley added somewhat cagily that the nightlife lobby group, Seattle Music and Nightlife Association, has had “some good conversations” with Rasmussen lately. “He’s good with us on the nightlife issue.”

One place where Rasmussen’s kickoff left a lot to be desired was the food—gummy potstickers, over-garlicked hummus, a mysterious dip with alternating layers of cream cheese and strawberry jam (served with Sociables) and petit fours that one political consultant described candidly as “not very good.” The promised Swedish meatballs, meanwhile, were nowhere to be found. Consultant John Wyble told me the first rule of political kickoffs among consultants is “Skimp on the food.” (Rasmussen’s consultant Christian Sinderman agreed, saying, “You want people to be writing checks, not concentrating on what they’re eating.”) I know we can’t all have Tom Douglas as a personal friend, but people might write bigger checks if their stomachs were satisfied.