Manic compression

Are Portland’s music venues going extinct? That depends on whom you talk to.

By Sherie Dyer

ZOOTZ: the plywood marks the end of a live-music era.

With the loss of The Stone Coast, Zootz, and The Better End in just six months, local bands are forced to scour the city for gigs. It seems almost like a bad dream to some and to others it’s just part of Portland’s infamous entertainment cycle. Either way the fact remains, the ambition of our town’s talent is high, and their options are low. It’s a large scene, split into several groups by preferences, and this becomes overwhelmingly apparent when you take the time to ask around.

“I think it’s definitely cyclical,” states Kris Clark, former Zootz owner and music promoter of 20 years. “ Lots of music and no clubs, or plenty of both. So often it comes down to the landlord issue. The Better End’s rent was at least $8000 a month, and that’s just crazy. And with Zootz, George [Sweeting, the last owner] just couldn’t work it out in time. It’s certainly not the demise of the music scene, just individual cases and conflicts with landlords.

“The downsizing of nightclubs, the lack of venues. It’s common. Boston goes through that, too. It’s not unheard of. Sadly there are plenty of bars and clubs that don’t have the passion for music. Sure, they’ll book a local band because it will get more people in to drink. It’s one thing to run clubs as a business, and it’s another to really have your heart in it. All in all, Portland has a strong music scene, a lot of committed people, people who will support it against all odds.”

Clark may have his head on straight, but many working musicians aren’t as calm. When morale is down, a brief conversation with Eggbot is always enlightening.

“Right now we’re definitely in a down cycle,” he says. “I’m going to check out the Basement, it seems cool. The State [Theatre] is so large you can’t do it justice. Too many seats, not enough people. The Stone Coast left a big void, and so did the Better End. They allowed all kinds of bands to show their stuff, creating the fairest owner-to-artist relationship. A band could play to hundreds in those spaces, not dozens. Hopefully the Basement will be cool like that. It’s sucks, but I don’t think working musicians, who are out there playing a lot, get paid well. It’s become an accepted practice. You have no choice but to continue to play the ones left now, swallow your pride, and just play to be heard.”

Eggbot brings about both a crucial statement — “we really hope the Basement will be cool to everyone,” and a crucial question — “what is left?”

Along with the Basement’s recent re-opening, we have the Skinny, the Big Easy, and Geno’s as friendly local music venues. There are some local bands that have been able to get in to the Asylum, but their live schedule is sporadic. The Free Street, Gritty’s, and the Alehouse are nice, but small — extremely small. The recent hit we have all taken leaves us with no middle-sized room, something that can comfortably hold between 400 and 600 humans. It feels odd to go from the Skinny to the State. They may be geographically close, but they’re worlds away in size.

“Unless you’re huge, it’s really hard to get a show,” exclaims Staffy of local punk outfit the Marvels.” It’s sad that we have all of them gone. Now there’s no small- to middle-sized venue at all.”

“It feels like the city is almost anti-music,” says Greg Palermino of Hawthorne when I call him up at his day job. “It sucks really, and to be honest we’re looking outside of town for shows. The Better End hurt, it’s been a staple since I’ve been here.”

THE BITTER/BETTER END: the crowd may have found a replacment in the Basement, but the closing leaves a void nonetheless.

The clearest picture of “musical humanity” and “staples” came from Jordan Krantz, frontman of Big Meat Hammer.

“As far as everything goes, Geno’s is the place,” he says. “I’ve played there since 1985, and I will continue to play there and support it. They let anyone play, they’re courteous, and they don’t blow you off. Barb will talk to the band — actually talk to them. There’s no, ‘I’ll call you back’ and never doing it, or ‘I haven’t listened to your tape yet’ and never doing it.”

Zootz displayed some of those qualities, but “we can thank the Portland yuppie center for destroying that for us,” says Krantz. “Zootz was a decent venue, and I’m sorry it closed.”

To others the Better End is an equal tragedy. Many of our more rock-oriented bands played there on a regular basis. What’s important is that, despite Orchow’s public displays of affliction, he was always up front with the acts. The money was decent, the foot-traffic was high, and the room was a perfect size.

Among others, Broken Clown played there quite often and when asked about its demise, had a lot to say. “It breaks my heart that they’re gone,” says drummer Shane Kinney. “It was the most fun room to play. It wasn’t a job, it was a constant party: before you played, during, and after.”

In reference to the current venue problem he added: “I’m not scared, this happens every three years. It’s Murphy’s Law. A few years ago Granny’s closed and the Basement went hippie. Then the Stone Coast started going local, and the Bitter End opened up. With the new ownership of the Basement, they’ll celebrate all styles. The room is great because it has a lot of intimacy.”

Ed Porter, bassist for Broken Clown, followed Kinney with one of the more straightforward answers available.

“As long as there are people who support local music there’ll be places to play,” says Porter. “The musicians are still around and, if worse comes to worst, people will rent halls and we might actually have some all-ages shows. There will still be music.”

Incidentally, Broken Clown played the Basement’s grand re-reopening with local super group Colostomy on St. Patrick’s day. With similar bands and similar staff, some are calling it “the Better Basement.”

STONE COAST: for some, the move to the State hasn’t panned out. We’ll see what the current renovations bring.

For those who enjoyed a more modern sound system, and a cleaner environment, the Stone Coast was the largest loss. Twitchboy, a band that I affectionately refer to as Pedalboy, played there frequently and took full advantage of the impressive system with their plethora of play toys. Guitarist Todd Hutchison had a mouth full on their demise.

“It was a great room,” says Hutchison, “and losing it sucked. The thing about it was the fact that it could cater to anyone. From Babaloo, to us, to an even heavier band. It was more sophisticated, and held a more middle-aged crowd at times. Now there’s no place for them to go. As a band we only have these smaller situations. For us it’s like the only place we can headline on our own terms is the Skinny, that’s all now. The one place in town where we can have a money gig. Portland is a middle-room-sized town, now it’s smaller or the State. That’s huge. It’s a drag.”

Twitchboy’s singer, Brant Dadaleares seemed a little more casual.

“There’s definitely less room to play out in now,” he says, “and in this business that’s the only real way to succeed. I have to give props to Johnny and Mellow though for keeping it real. The Skinny continues to get all kinds of bands in there, local and beyond. But, yeah, it’s a drag. There have been places that go up and down. It’s just like the music itself, new things added to old, it all just gets recycled, the whole business.”

Twitchboy is one of the larger bands in town in both equipment and following. It’s not very likely to catch them at the Alehouse on a weekend night, and after their last experience with the vastness and the sometimes spotty attendence of the State, the Skinny may very well be their only choice.

When Stone Coast owner Grant Wilson, who also runs the State, first opened the State’s doors he transferred the well established hip-hop open mic night; keeping the cover at a dollar for 21 plus and allowing 18 year-olds access for three bucks. This all sounded good in the beginning, but the size of the place won in the end. kNOw Complex, a regular feature on those nights had to stop playing to the empty room. DJ Moshe who survived the shut down of both Zootz and the Stone Coast had some welcomed good news in his comments.

“It feels like there’s nowhere to play out at all now, and that makes it hard to find a place,” he says. “For such a small amount of people who listen to hip-hop, the State wasn’t working. It was so big, and it got kind of depressing. But we’re going to try again this summer when there’s more people around. Right now I’m talking to the Big Easy, and kNOw Complex will start up there soon enough.”

The Big Easy has documented plans to pick up the slack, and honestly it would be nice to see some rock in that historic space. I would kill to see Twitchboy or Swampwitch Revival in that place. That style of rock has been unheard of there on the whole since Granny Killams closed.

In closing, I don’t believe that the Skinny can possibly house all of our locals because there are only so many days in a month. Although their commitment to local music is sincere, a calendar is a calendar.

The Basement may prove its tastes to be varied, but it’s too small to even mic the drums. Their timing however is impeccable.

And as far as Zootz and The Better/Bitter End go, I am just as sad as everyone else. Both rooms housed hundreds of bands local and national. Both were responsible for many special nights to all kinds of people.

The Stone Coast closing will never make sense to me, unless someone got off on killing something beautiful. The State Theatre seems like an unfair substitute, although in all fairness, it’s still too soon to tell. Our local bands are giving it their all in an upcoming show entitled “The Haunting of The State.” The bill features — in this order — Broken Clown, Swampwitch Revival, Eggbot, Colostomy, The Horror, and Twitchboy. Six bands for five dollars appropriately scheduled for Friday, April 13. Show your support, your sadness, or whatever else you want to be seen.

Sherie Dyer can be reached at sheriedyer@netscape.net.