‘Back in My Day…’

A couple weeks ago, one of the bands I play in opened for The Mighty Mighty Bosstones – a real treat for me and my buddies, having grown up listening to these guys’ albums and going to see them around town since before we were in high school.

The reason for this particular show, though? After 43 years, iconic local music venue, T.T. The Bear’s Place in Cambridge, Massachusetts is closing its doors for good and The Bosstones – who honed their chops at clubs such as TT’s – wanted to help send the place off in style.

In addition to now big-name bands dropping by to play farewell gigs (The Pixies played a set two weeks earlier), there have been write-ups in Billboard and elsewhere bemoaning the club’s passing and celebrating its more notable moments, which is fitting and nice.

But it doesn’t really address a larger problem playing out.

Sure, it’s easy to fall into the cranky old dude stereotype of, “Back in my day, things were so much better…” and this most recent club closing isn’t the only (or, for me, even most significant) in my own local area – I’ve already bid farewell to The Rat and Bunratty’s in Boston and my beloved Abbey Lounge in Somerville – but there’s a disturbing phenomenon that’s unfolding for the past couple of decades, both nationally and globally, when it comes to live music venues:

“Clubs are being turned into gastro-pubs, open mic venues are fast becoming office blocks, and everywhere we look there’s a new luxury apartment complex waiting to be filled… but nowhere to see a £3 show,” opined The UK’s Vice back in September of 2014; In June, both Holy Mountain and Red 7 in Austin reported that rent increases would very likely chase them out of town; “The number of middle-size venues disappearing off the Perth landscape [is] alarming,” reported Australia’s WAToday in February of this year; and in under a year, Brooklyn’s Williamsburg neighborhood – an area most would consider to be “strong” with supporters and purveyors of live music – has seen three significant mainstays shutter their doors (Trash Bar, Death by Audio, Glasslands – with more closings predicted for the coming months).

So what’s going on and what’s to be done?

The answer to the first question is complex. Operating costs of a club with live music (factor in booze and performance licenses, soundproofing, complying with neighborhood ordinances, bartending and door and sound engineer payroll, continually upgrading to comply with ever stricter fire/safety codes, etc.) represent a considerably more robust challenge than those associated with running “just” a bar, for example. Add in increased rents and new residential developments in many many cities and it’s enough to make anyone understand why an owner would throw in the towel.

As for the second question, “complex” doesn’t do it justice. If I (or anyone) had an easy answer, everyone in MI (as well as club-owners) be in the black.

It’s not a challenge limited to genre, either. All live music is feeling the heat. As NME noted in a late December 2014 post about small DJ clubs closing: “As we lose more and more venues to the rubble pile, we’re not just losing fantastic gig spaces, we’re losing fantastic spaces where the pure fun of music can be celebrated in all its hedonistic, unifying, boozy glory.”

Musicians and music fans do continue to rally to save the institutions that matter to them, though, and hopefully those folks will find powerful allies who can add meaningful assistance. San Francisco supervisor London Breed is amongst those politicians who recognize the value – maybe not immediately or easily quantified in dollar-amount – of live music clubs to a region’s character and worth, having recently proposed legislation to save long-standing music venues from closing and better the relationship they enjoy with neighboring residents.

I can attest that, while it’s great fun to participate in a celebratory farewell to a much-loved local club, it’s far more satisfying to play a part in preserving a venue that helps define and foster a community’s artistic identity.