'Nights At The Center Of The Universe' [By: Conor Rooney]
'Nights At The Center Of The Universe' [By: Conor Rooney]
On independent music venues in COVID-19.
Every now and then, outside contributors make their way onto this newsletter/blog to add their two cents about… well… anything really. Sometimes it’s a podcast, other times it’s an editorial. This time around, Conor Rooney, an event organizer, PR guy, and writer, talks about the state of DIY venues in the wake of an economic collapse .
I remember lying face up on the floor of Pioneer Works in Brooklyn, an industrial warehouse turned event space. My eyes were tightly shut, and I was surrounded by several hundred strangers in complete stillness. Suspended above us was a massive cloth screen, and projected onto it from above were abstract, fragmented images of nature and other patterns. Sitting in the center of everyone was a large ‘dream machine’: an oscillating light intended to produce intense visual stimuli. For 90 minutes, the late Genesis Breyer P-Orridge guided us through a deeply visceral meditation of intense strobing lights, eardrum bursting sounds and vivid color. Accompanied by a thundering musical ensemble that seemed to shake the foundation of the building, the experience was almost indescribable. It is what I would imagine it feels like to pass near the center of a black hole. Or the sun. Or both at the same time.
The event was a one-off demonstration and reimagining of William Burroughs Dream Machine, and left most of the attendees with a sort of silent astonishment. I remember the end of the final musical movement; some stragglers sitting up and staring straight into the furiously spinning dream machine. The entire room was bathed in white light as the band’s tone morphed into a dissipating drone that lasted for an eternity.
These are the kinds of concerts that give you that giddy buzz of excitement -- the kind that doesn’t leave you for weeks. You might get that jolt of adrenaline coming from seeing your favorite band at your favorite venue, or meeting a new date at the show (make sure you’re not sweating buckets, grab a cool drink of water -- it’s ok, don’t be nervous). There is the excitement coming from the idea of packing yourself into a small venue-- into a sweaty crowd of like-minded fans, screaming every lyric to that one song that everyone knows (or no one knows but you). There is the excitement that comes from the possibility of meeting a new friend or an old buddy at the bar, or accidentally bumping into the guitarist for your favorite band in the bathroom (you played it cool, don’t worry). It’s on those nights that can lift your spirit for weeks, or as Boston Globe contributor Maura Johnson puts it, make you feel like you’re in the center of the universe.
But that universe has collapsed in on itself, or at least has gone dark for the time being. Nights like those now seem like a fantastical memory of a bygone era or a fever dream in the era of social distancing (reminder: it’s only June). Due to the Covid-19 pandemic, venues in all fifty states sit empty. While the Coronavirus pandemic has forced other industries to adapt, the live music industry has no choice but to wait out the storm.
Unfortunately, for independent venues across the United States, that storm could very well prove to be too much to handle. Without the corporate dollars from concert promotion big boys like AEG and Live Nation, independent venues are already feeling the pinch. For Christine Karayan, owner of West Hollywood’s famous Troubadour, a future on the other side of this pandemic is becoming increasingly harder to imagine. In a recent interview with the Los Angeles Times, Karayan Said “If we’re going to survive this thing — and that’s a big if — we’re going to need all the help we can get, from any direction we can get it.”
But the Troubadour, in some sense, is lucky. In the past few weeks, they’ve run a successful GoFundMe to support their staff, meet obligations like property tax and utilities. Altogether, over $73,000 was raised, and it will likely bring them safely through the rest of the year. This is great news for a venue famed for launching the careers of artists such as Elton John, Pearl Jam and Guns N’ Roses. But part of the Troubadour’s luck comes from its own history, and that’s not a luxury that other venues share. The 500-capacity pace has decades of history behind it, and generations of music fans and artists that would move mountains to see it stay.
But a storied past alone will not save a venue, no matter how important to certain communities it may be. Great Scott, a crown jewel in the Boston indie rock scene as well as a hub for that community since 1976, announced on May 1st that they will not reopen their doors via a Facebook post. The news sent waves of grief emanating through multiple communities, with many artists and fans sharing their favorite memories of the club and even organizing a petition to save the Allston institution.
This is a pattern repeating viciously throughout the country: some venues are barely squeaking by while others shutter forever. Every day brings independent venues closer and closer to closure. Some sink, some swim, and with shows not predicted to return until “2021 at the earliest”, (and up to half of Americans reported to not even consider attending a show until a vaccine is readily available) venues are largely left to their own devices. And while financial help is being offered by the federal government in the form of loans via the Paycheck Protection Program (PPP), the rules that dictate how the funds can be used puts independent venues at a unique disadvantage. As per the Small Business Association, only 25% of the funds in each PPP loan can be used for fixed costs like rent and utilities. Without staff and the bills piling up, many independent venues around the country are unable to utilize those loans without incurring future debt.
“It’s moved so fast; it’s at a break-neck pace”, Audrey Fix Schaefer tells me over the phone, “Those of us who were here at the very beginning, we thought “wait, we’re what? 21 days in?!” It’s crazy.” Before the outbreak of COVID-19, Audrey was the Communications Director for I.M.P, the largest independent concert promotion agency in Washington D.C. Before the pandemic, I.M.P regularly organized concerts at venues such as the Merriweather Post Pavilion, the Anthem and, of course, the famous 9:30 Club. In addition to her role in bringing some of the world’s top talent to D.C, Audrey is one of the founding members of the National Independent Venue Association (NIVA), an organization formed in April to represent the interests of independent venues across the United States, pushing for federal financial relief specifically designed to meet the needs of the independent live music industry.
In the letter that NIVA sent to congressional leadership, the organization made their goals clear: either improve or modify the existing PPP program, allowing businesses that have completely shuttered to benefit from the loans, to increase the loan cap and to extend the program until businesses (like theirs) have resumed normal operations. But the goals of NIVA extend beyond simply financial assistance. NIVA is also asking for guidance as to how to resume operations in accordance with CDC guidelines. Audrey tells me, “We are asking for guidance for how to do this safely. Because we need to do it safely. It’s just the right thing to do. It’s our employees, it’s us, our fans, it’s the artists.”
Thankfully, NIVA also has some heavyweight Washington lobbyists in their corner. They’ve hired the Akin Gump lobbying firm, one of the top firms of its kind in the business. With this, they hope to make enough noise to show just how essential their industry is while at the same time illustrating how vulnerable they are at this moment. “This is not a group that is accustomed to asking for help. These are mom & pop businesses that have worked so hard and defied the odds to do what they’re doing… but there’s no organization that could withstand this on their own” says Audrey.
Still, Audrey remains positive about what might seem like an uphill battle. She talks about reopening venues not as an “if,” but as a “when,” and stresses that this will not be an overnight battle. “There have been many experts that say that they don’t think that this will happen until sometime in 2021, and that, too, is difficult to read… [but] this is not about optimism or pessimism, this is about realism and it’s about science.”
In the meantime, it is a race against the clock. The pinch that many of the NIVA members face is very real, and in an interview with Rolling Stone, NIVA President Dayna Frank estimated that without the federal aid they’re seeking, up to 90% of their 1,300 members will not last more than six months. Even worse? 55% might not be financially stable enough to survive more than three. It’s a grim prospect to think about losing that magnitude of cultural spaces. In the same interview, Frank said “The range of situations goes from bad to worse. You can’t really sugarcoat it; that’s the unfortunate reality.”
Unfortunately, the grass doesn’t seem greener on the other side. Right now, it’s even difficult to imagine that there is an “other side.” The prospect of imagining life with Covid-19 in our rearview mirror is simply too far to imagine; or at least to imagine clearly. For now, the stages are dark, the seats are empty, and the shows have moved to virtual venues like Instagram Live and Zoom. For now, this is our new normal. For an indefinite period of time, there will be no bumping into your favorite guitarist in the bathroom of your favorite venue, no meeting a first date at the bar (and nervously freaking out), and no more belting song lyrics at the top of your lungs back at whatever band you were there to see. But rest assured, those things will happen again as long as we preserve the spaces to facilitate them. And that’s why the fight to save these spaces is vital: to ensure that those nights at the center of the universe happen again.
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(To directly support the National Independent Venue Association, follow this link here. You can purchase shirts, masks and bags to support the association’s operating budget and help protect the ecosystem of independent venues around the country.)
(To financially support specific independent venues in your city, follow this link here to find and donate to individual fundraisers.)
— Conor Rooney; June, 2020.
Conor Rooney is a writer and PR guy living in New York. He previously wrote for Post Trash, and was an on-air DJ with WUSB 90.1 FM in Long Island. He’s also worked public relations for Pussy a Riot.
Image courtesy of Metro US and YouTube.