Friday September 08 05:47 AM EDT
Musicians Feel the Pinch of SF's
Booming Economy
dailynews.yahoo.com
San Francisco musicians, from the famous to the
up-and-coming, are united over one concern: the erosion
of the local music scene that has, over the decades,
spawned innumerable bands, from the Grateful Dead to
Metallica. The main culprit is, oddly enough, the booming economy.
The surging high-tech industry, which has spread from nearby Silicon Valley, is
snapping up every available inch of warehouse/rehearsal space in town, forcing
the evictions of hundreds of artists, from musicians to dancers. But the one thing
that has galvanized the local music community into forming an organization --
the Save Local Music coalition -- is the impending closure of Downtown
Rehearsal, a colossal building on Third Street near Candlestick Park whose 155
rehearsal rooms house around 500 bands and nearly 2,000 musicians. Out on the
street shortly: up-and-comers Oranger (who will soon tour Europe with Elliott
Smith), the Fingers and Jon Vanderslice, as well as established acts like Chris
Isaak.
"If you're part of the city's music scene, you've inevitably walked through those
hallowed doors," says Sharky Laguana, of rising stars Creeper Lagoon (whose
major-label CD comes out on Dreamworks shortly). He has also joined the
coalition's Solutions Committee. "I've never belonged to an organization in my
life! But things are pretty desperate. San Francisco's always been really
expensive, and now it's in lewd proportions. The city is pricing out pretty much
everyone but those in a certain industry."
When owners tacked eviction notices on doors Aug. 8, saying the building had
been sold and the new owners needed to conduct seismic retrofitting, they only
gave musicians forty-five days to clear out. New owners say the building will
probably house "a technology business." For many bands, faced with nowhere to
rehearse, it could mean their break-up.
"I've been to Downtown Rehearsal a bunch of times, and the place is like a
community," says Kirk Hammett of Metallica, a third-generation San Franciscan.
"I always say a music community is like an ecosystem, it exists from the ground
up. Everything grows from the rehearsal space. To cut off the rehearsal space is
like shooting yourself in the foot. Where does it stop, these economy-based
evictions? Retirement homes? Hospices?"
"This is terrible news," agrees fellow guitar-god and San Franciscan Joe Satriani.
"It's very difficult to find rehearsal space here. And it's a precious commodity --
like the workplace and a playground combined. It's where all the developments
happen within a band, where you discover each others' strengths, where you learn
how to be as a band."
Dennis McNally, longtime spokesman for the Grateful Dead, says lack of
rehearsal space is an age-old problem. "The Dead had plenty of spaces but got
kicked out of a lot of them, too. The worst was the old Potrero Theater, which
was filled with rats. Still, they thrived in adversity and put together what would
become 'Anthem of the Sun' (1968) there. The larger issue is how massive
prosperity in San Francisco is cutting down on opportunities for artistic
diversity. And that's a shame."
Adam Duritz of Counting Crows says that even though the problem seems more
acute now, it's always been a problem finding places to play. "When we were just
starting out, Jackson Street in Oakland had a great rehearsal space but it closed
down and the bands had to find other places to go. We also had a spot in the
Mission that was great but it got robbed so we moved. We even rehearsed in my
dad's basement."
But he disagrees that rehearsal space shortages will spell the demise of the local
industry. "You can't choke off creativity. If people gotta play, they'll find a place.
Rock & roll will prevail; it happens in rebellion and under the most difficult
circumstances."
But, it's doubtful that circumstances have ever been this difficult for musicians.
And now, with their backs to the wall, they're doing something rare in the
lone-wolf occupation of rock & roll: organizing. In the few weeks since the
alarm bell was rung, in the wake of Downtown Rehearsal's sale, musicians have
been meeting, planning and taking action. The Save Local Music coalition has
emerged as the voice of the crisis and, somewhat ironically, has as itsleadership
many folks who work for dot-coms.
And although the organizing process has been halting, the campaign for public
awareness is moving ahead full-speed. Like the recent World Trade Organization
protests in Seattle, the Internet is playing a key role. An online petition at
www.SFmusician.com urging the city to consider funding a rehearsal space has
already gathered more than 4,000 signatures. And additional informational Web
sites are being built, for the coalition (SaveLocalMusic.org) and for its main
musical event, Rock Out SF (RockOutSF.org).
That marathon, moving concert will take place on Saturday, Sept. 25, two days
before the electricity is due to be turned off at Downtown Rehearsal. As of now,
more than 100 bands have agreed to participate in the event by setting up their
equipment on street corners throughout San Francisco, and playing for an hour.
Organizers hope to make a statement -- and woo the public rather than alienate
them.
"We want to make this as respectful as possible," says organizer Donovan Pierce,
a musician who, like many of the movement's leaders, works at Listen.com. "We
say go acoustic as much as you can, play just an hour, keep the volume down,
play in an appropriate place. It would not be good to have a death-metal band in
front of a retirement home, for example.
There's also help coming from City Hall, and from some of the city's big music
guns. Gavin Newsom, at thirty-two, the youngest on the Board of Supervisors, is
holding hearings and meetings to try to push back the date of the musicians'
evictions. And both Hammett and Stephan Jenkins of Third Eye Blind have
approached him -- and each other -- about doing some kind of benefit.
"Bukowski said the greatest aid to creativity is cheap rent. So by that
measurement, I'd say creativity in San Francisco is in its death throes," says
Jenkins, who cut his musical teeth in the city's Haight-Ashbury district. "I'd like
to help set up a trust that will assist in maintaining the city's Bohemian -- and by
that I mean the opposite of big money -- lifestyle."
Greg Gueldner of Stroke 9, who played for years in small clubs around town
before putting out a debut album that has now been certified gold, explains the
crisis this way: "If you're going to get a deal like we did, you have to have a
draw. In order to have a draw you have to get gigs. In order to get gigs you have
to play well. And you can't play well without rehearsal space!"
JANE GANAHL
(September 8, 2000) |
