There was a music joint I played for 10 years, consistently, building a scene, promoting my shows, having great turnouts. In fact, the management was so happy with me because I never asked for a guarantee and they would simply give me the door and cash and keep the bar, and according to every report I ever heard from every person that worked there, our nights, were good nights for them.
With a downfall in original music happening (bands either not promoting or having no new music to promote), so ensued the eventual turning to cover bands, tribute bands, and even DJ’s that helped contribute to the resolution of live music lovers not taking a gamble on the place.
And as what commonly happens, with the walking out of all the people who made it enjoyable, and the firing of their director, so began the cleaning. Simply cut everyones pay by 75%, whoever’s left willing to jump up and down on the stage will fill what’s left. People don’t come to see them anyway right?
One night after a packed night and cash at the door they gave me a check for one third of what it was supposed to be. “Where did all the cash go?” I asked. Silence was the response.
It’s so common to have unceremonious endings in the music world, the arts world, and the restaurant world. Things go for years and then they seem to blow apart overnight, and usually on the account of dumb decision making and completely avoidable situations.
Still, in the wake of the things that are Gone and on the doorstep of things to come, it’s important to remember that it’s the moments and always the people that we would take account of in our memories and not the lifeless brick and mortar that we confuse for being the reason we were all there in the first place.
Art and love will survive, even when there’s an unceremonious end to the places we experience them.