It’s an immense task trying to condense the past two decades of local music into a mere two pages of print. Fortunately, we didn’t have to look far. Collectively, this distinguished panel of former music editors and writers (all current contributors as well) has covered the scene for nearly as long as CL has been on newsstands.
How has the Charlotte club scene evolved during the past 15 years?
FARRIS: Considering my first music club experiences here consisted of watching wannabe glam/metal bands in a dark, borderline seedy, teenage hangout called Weekends (suspiciously sandwiched between an adult meat market and a most certainly seedy XXX video store) and the occasional night out to one of the adult bars for an “all ages” show with Sugar Creek, it would be easy to think we’ve come a long way. But what Charlotte still desperately lacks is a concentrated music club district and (of course) more support and awareness of original, local music. Sure, we’ve got a handful of decent to better-than-decent venues now that get decent to the occasionally exceptional bookings, but I’d have to say regular attendance at the restaurant/bars and dance/party clubs still exceed the music venues by far.
SCHACHT: It’s a mixed bag, in my book. Losing places like the Pterodactyl, 13-13, Fat City, The Room, even the Steeple, offsets positives like the Milestone cranking up again, the Casbah stage at Tremont, the Visulite, Amos’ expansion, etc. The issue is booking, not so much the venues. The lines are way too rigidly drawn: Wanna see a jam band or funk act? Go to the Neighborhood Theatre. Punk or Emo? Go to Tremont. Blues? Double Door. Singer/songwriters? Welcome to the Evening Muse. There’s variety within their niches, but you know exactly what kind of act is going to be on stage that night without consulting a calendar. In the mid- to late-90s there was a decent show at Tremont almost every week, and they were all over the map: You could see Frank Black, Spiritualized, Elliot Smith, Son Volt, Whiskeytown, J. Mascis, Morphine, Tricky, Iggy Pop.
DAVIS: It’s been said a number of times, but not having a university (a downtown university, and CPCC doesn’t count) severely impairs the original music options you’re going to get in a downtown-style scene. There are now numerous restaurants and pubs and such, but most of them take the singer-songwriter-with-Ovation-guitar-playing-a-“funky”-cover-of-“Gin and Juice” route. The best clubs going – Tremont, Milestone — are pretty much in down-and-out areas in the middle of nowhere. Unless you’re 18, you’re not so much champing at the bit to see a show when you know there’s a fair chance someone’s gonna toss a brick through yer window. Maybe that’s not a punk thing to say, but it’s true. (PS: Truth is as punk as it gets — see Joe Strummer’s thoughts on the subject.) NoDa hasn’t quite developed like everyone thought it would, with the Evening Muse and the Neighborhood Theatre left to anchor the area with the closing of the venerable Fat City Deli a few years back. The Muse still books admirably, and sometimes the SK Net Cafe, but there’s a limit to what you’re going to get in such an intimate venue. The Neighborhood Theatre is overwhelmingly tilted in the patchouli direction, but still gets some cool shows from time to time. That said, that place could hold a Broken Social Scene concert easily, and for bands looking for a stop-off between Asheville and Charleston (not to mention Chapel Hill and Atlanta), it would seem to be a natural. The Steeple/Spot/whatever the fuck they call it now had some real promise, as did The Room, but neither establishment could keep the doors open or the riffraff out.
Expand on a thought from Fred Mills’ earlier piece: “One of our CL prime directives from the get-go was support local music … To that end, we set out to champion our rock & roll underground — what the hell, let’s crash the party and get drunk with the rest of the freaks and challenge the rest of the populace to keep up with us.”
DAVIS: I think this is what we’ve always done, or at least tried to do. Nothing against, say, the Charlotte Observer, but the local alt. weekly has a little more free rein to get in the nooks and crannies of a music scene and report truthfully (at least the truth as they see it) about what they find. Of course, this caused/causes no end of cover bands (what I like to call ostensible cover bands — bands that sound so much like, say, Creed that they’re indistinguishable from a cover band), and other folk from filling our answering machines with all manner of vitriol about how us “(expletive) don’t understand _____ music anyway, and all you listen to is ____ and you (expletives) don’t know about the real scene.” Which is ridiculous, of course, and which also didn’t stop people from bold, two-faced schmoozing when, say, one of us was eating dinner or otherwise trying to enjoy ourself. (Most of these bands are no more, it should be said, and some particularly annoying “scene” folk I know are hapless drunks or, in the case of a few folk, even serving time in the hoosegow.) But at the risk of sounding self-serving (or salary-serving), I think we far and away championed more new bands, good new bands, than any other outlet in town (see The Sammies, The Avett Brothers, Lou Ford, Benji Hughes, Todd Busch, Lindsey Horne, The Houston Brothers, The Others — whose name is even cooler considering they had the moniker pre-Lost — and Pigfucker. Sorry, just wanted to get Pigfucker’s name in there again.) We didn’t get everybody, of course, but I’d say we hit on — still do, incidentally — quite a few artists that have and will stand the test of time, if not the Almighty Dollar. And, being a weekly, we have the freedom to wrap those stories and profiles in interesting prose, even if we get the old “y’all use big words” criticism from time to time. As author Toni Morrison once said to Oprah after the latter complained about having to really pay attention to a piece of Morrison’s writing, “Honey, that’s what’s called reading.” Not saying we’re writing Beloved here or anything.
SCHACHT: To me, that’s the No. 1 mission of any alternative weekly — to help shape public tastes, not follow them. And while that’s been the modus operandi of most of the music editors over the last 15 years, there’s been a steady watering down, particularly over the last couple of years, to the point that The Loaf was becoming indistinguishable from the Observer‘s E&T: Pandering to the American Idol crowd, courting downtown yuppies, wasting valuable space on gossip columns, all the while ignoring a rich, multi-faceted pool of local music talent and managing to alienate the core readership of an “alternative” music section in the process. Where we once championed local stages at festivals and did our humble bit to promote the quality bands Tim mentioned above, the extent of involvement now amounts to little more than sponsoring open-mic nights at coffee houses and handing out unintentionally ironic “Shelter From the Mainstream” beer holders at Speedweek.
FARRIS: No doubt in my mind though, I think CL still manages to blow all the other news and entertainment outlets (of worth, we should note) in this town outta the water when it comes to covering local music. True, we used to be a paper that poked fun at American Idol and now that doesn’t always seem to be the case. Truth be told (Amps 11, you guys may need to sit down for this), the amount of content allowed in the music section has never been determined by the music editor. I know that probably comes as quite a revelation to some of you out there. But in all honestly, no one in the music department has ever lost sight of the mission at hand, although some have definitely been more passionate and dedicated about it than others. Seriously though, can the big O even print “Nacho Pussy”?
We’ve come a long way, baby … or have we? Who are the people, places and events that have shaped the Charlotte music scene?
SCHACHT: It was almost a decade ago that Charlotte last seemed to be on the national radar, with Sire carpetbagging a few local signings, among them Jolene and Muscadine. Lou Ford, too, was making a splash, with strong reviews in respected Brit glossies like Mojo and UnCut before they (Lou Ford, that is), like Sire, imploded. Those were deserving bands, but I’d have to say the current scene seems more grounded and diverse. Over the last few years, there’s been a real community spirit developing, an obvious example being the growing popularity of – and participation in — the Fool’s Brigade benefits. The diversity of acts, too, has grown. Bands like David Childers & the Modern Don Juans and Pyramid couldn’t be more different from each other, but they’ve both created something beyond a regional-only buzz and are well-respected within their niches. And with local labels Ramseur and MoRisen signing homegrown bands and out-of-towners, that can only bode well, too, especially if the signings turn out to be as inspired and nationally popular as The Sammies and Avett Brothers.
DAVIS: Where to begin? How about with the people? Not always my favorite musicians and such, per se, but the people who are people when you talk to them? Bruce Hazel comes to mind, both for his unflagging support for local music (and local musicians, and local causes). Jamie Hoover, for making the whole town look (and sound) better through his unerring ear. David Childers, for proving the heart of a poet is in us all, if we can only find our own lyrical melodies. Brent Bagwell of Pyramid and the Eastern Seaboard for knowing that not all ears are tuned to the same frequencies, and for reminding us that even white noise has its moments. (Disclosure: I once did a radio show, free:form, with Mr. Bagwell, and its demise still leaves a hole in me.) Alan and Chad Edwards of Lou Ford, for saying a lot with as little as possible … Ray Carver smiles somewhere. For that band’s Mark and Shawn Lynch (no relation!) for doing the music ’cause it still makes them smile inside. Todd Busch and Benji Hughes, for following their muses down paths both ridiculous, dark and sublime. Joe Kuhlmann, for his ear (and heart) of gold — and wall of muscle he’s not afraid to break out whenever needed. Tony McCullough, who never leaves anything on stage when he’s playing — if he’s even aware he’s standing on one at the time. Divakar Shukla, who does it for the right reasons, always (and who gave me my break, in a roundabout way). Todd Bowman, a good neighbor, for his gracious help and kind ear. The Sammies, for rekindling the fire. Randolph Lewis, whose blues are different hues. Andrew Webster and Neil Allen, fellow Queens (students) for their dedication and much needed subtlety, respectively. Amos’ SouthEnd, for not telling J. Mascis to turn it down. Penny Craver, who always lets you know where you stand. Todd at the Double Door, the best bouncer in the QC, bar none. My fellow Loafers, for making the job a treat even on deadline day(s). Ned at the Bird, for the stiff drinks and slick work on the skins. The Houstons, for finding the light in the darkest corners. Neil and Co. at the World Famous Milestone, now (once again) the preeminent place to go to see the acts no one else has the balls to book. To Cafe Bisous and SK Net Cafe, for proving coffee and music need not come together like a Starbucks Christmas mix. The folk at the Steeple, for a lost year of my life. Also to those folks I’ve forgotten (see Steeple and Penguin mentions above, plus about 38 other watering holes), and, finally, to Matt Brunson, who is breathing deadline breath on my neck as we speak. Love ya, Matty.
FARRIS: I’ll take a stab at trying to be thorough but brief in mentioning all the people who have played a vital role in creating and nurturing this scene, but I gotta start with the two bands that introduced me to original local music and really made me take notice that a scene even existed — Dahli Llama and God’s Water. Both have been long over, but their talent and showmanship set a standard that all who followed have had to contend with. We should all thank our lucky stars that Hope Nichols landed in Charlotte as she’s added more color and entertainment to this town than anyone. Other persistent ladies that have made countless contributions include Gina Stewart (musician), Lea Pritchard Kuhlmann (musician/club owner), Tracie Nasta (promoter/label rep), Carolyn Cook (promoter) and Laurie Koster (artist/promoter). Fellas who always kept things interesting include the X-Periment, It Could Be Nothing, Fred Hutchinson, Jay Garrigan, Eric Lovell, The Alternative Champs, Unknown Hinson, Lin Benfield, Andy Kastanas and Jason Herring, aka DJ Jah-Sun Rising. All of these folks have chosen to travel down the road less taken and I applaud their innovativeness and tenacity. The three bands I really wanted to see make it (and thankfully one is still kicking ass today) — Come On Thunderchild, Wichita Caravan and The Belmont Playboys. Something would just click every time these guys took to the stage and I was always amazed. A few more stellar sound and studio guys we’re lucky to have around: Les Moore, Mark Williams, Dave Harris and Rob Tavaglione. To my knowledge, none have gotten rich from the local recordings they’ve produced so I think it’s safe to assume they do it because they wholeheartedly love music. And finally, a standing ovation for Nick Karres at the Double Door Inn for hanging in this business for as long as he has (34 years this December) … and for letting me into shows long before I turned 21 (granted, they would brand me with so many “X”‘s I felt like I was the lead in The Scarlet Letter 2). The history of that place is undeniable and it really is a local institution. And R.I.P. Fat City and 13-13. Gone, but no way we can forget!
This article appears in Apr 11-17, 2007.
