I feel like it’s even worse than that, it’s trying to catch lighting in a closed rubber bottle in a room full of lightning rods. Part of what makes the sketchy old clubs for any music scene so magical is that they operate at the edges of culture and get to see the birth of cool stuff. The edges of culture aren’t ever as financially lucrative as the center. The low cost of the decaying club is why you can take a risk on the new unproven acts. Any attempt to build one of these nostalgia temples is necessarily going to be costlier than the alternatives. To stay solvent in our current system, that means they usually have to book safe acts.
Maybe they could pay a very qualified (and very expensive) punk historian to help them with that?
You think we get paid…
That would be selling out
Pre pandemic, when I was going to the E street cinema, I would sometimes intentionaly walk past the Atlantic building just for the feels.
I love that idea. Including a punk zine library, I hope! Let us know if you need any letters of reference
Nostalgia temples generally book nostalgia acts. For people that can now afford the ticket prices. Sometimes the do it in exactly the same venues because of gentrification. Dodgy, Low Rent Area => Hip, venues and nightlife spots that can only afford low rents => Area becomes trendy and popular => => Big corporate companies marketing to young people like Forever 21 move in =>Landlords can charge higher rents => Funky interesting places are priced out => Area is now “Disneyfied” and the mix of shops and venues is indistinguishable from suburbia => young people stop going there.
Nostalgia just lengthens the process somewhat. How long do you want to keep doing things and going places that USED to be fun? The process happened to Georgetown, the area of the old 930 club and is currently happening to the H street corridor.
Sure. I can exist on air and good wishes…
Aw, hell no. It was merely terrible joke. You tell 'em ‘fuck you, pay me’.
Ian has a brand new band called Coriky with his wife Amy Farina and Joe Lally, so there’s always hope.
During a Southern Culture show I saw somebody pick up a piece of fried chicken from that nasty floor and eat it.
Good times.
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