A Call To Action: End Live Music’s Dark Ages

It was in a text message that I discovered the news: It was the day the music died.

A square-inch screen is hardly a suitable venue for an announcement of such magnitude, yet there it sat in my palm, an invitation to join my grieving messenger.

‘Dude, did you hear about the Crowbar?’

‘No. What?’

‘It closed.’

And then…written silence. A blinking cursor in a response text message that would never be sent. A clenched hand returned the cell phone to my pocket.

The reaction was far from reasonable. I had known the downtown venue for less than a year and had seen only a few concerts during our short relationship, but I had fallen in love with the place. I was the scorned victim of a whirlwind romance, and it wasn’t until recently that I began to risk flirting with another local venue. 

As a future Penn State student, I imagined a concert venue exactly like the Crowbar – autographed photos of bands coating the walls, quality music flowing through the open door, and a low stage inviting listeners to feel as if they had joined their favorite band.

As a Penn State freshman, I lived that dream. Friends from past and present joined me inside its hallowed walls for the melodies of Reel Big Fish and Townhall. We counted down the days (OK, years) until we could choose between sitting at the bar and dancing in the crowd.

As a Penn State sophomore, it was gone. I was lost.

The shows at the Bryce Jordan Center weren’t bad, but they were often too expensive. The State Theatre was under construction. And no State College bar would let me in, no matter how much I promised I only wanted to hear the band.

Welcome to the beginning of the Dark Ages of State College music, circa 2006.

Four years later, the scene has changed dramatically, but it has often taken two steps back for each forward step.

The State Theatre has reopened and focused on bringing some great musical acts to a good-looking venue. (Personal favorites have included Melody Gardot and Andrew Bird.) That being said, dancing between rows on bolted-down seats isn’t nearly as enticing as rocking out to ska on the open floor.

The Bryce Jordan Center has had Ben Folds, Jay-Z and Bruce Springsteen (without question the greatest American rocker ever), truly some incredible performances. While this type of venue brings in some international superstars, there’s none of the romance that comes from a mid-sized performance venue. The Boss isn’t going to tell you what bar he’s headed to after the show in the hopes of finding company, and Jay-Z won’t be found in the audience listening to his co-performers.

On-campus shows have routinely included affordable and entertaining acts, highlighted by the occasional treat (Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s, Girl Talk and Flogging Molly), but limited budgets give students limited options.

Music festivals have multiplied, grown and improved from Asher Roth to Fabolus (part of an awfully impressive lineup this past school year).

Chronic Town had a great history of bringing in quality original acts from near (The Minor White) and far (Charlene Ava), but those shows came to an abrupt end when a 2009 fire knocked the whole venue out of commission for a year.

The life support plug was pulled on music sales in town with the January closing of City Lights. There’s promise in a new shop opening in its place this fall, but The Music Underground will have one major obstacle to overcome: apathy.

It’s not that fans of good, live music are non-existent, former Collegian music writer Adam Clair told me; it’s that they’re too fractured to make a difference in a complacent town. He moved to Athens, Ga. – considered one of America’s greatest music cities – to study and write about the Elephant 6 Collective (you can read more about it in his blog), so he knows music towns.

This is a town of artists of all types. This is clear from the Arts Festival, Penn State’s Battle of the Bands and any stroll through the campus art galleries – there is evidence of a people inspired all over town. But a group of artists does not a community make. 

When it comes to musicians, some of the most talented are also the worst offenders of complacency. They’re upset about not getting gigs at downtown bars, but they’re not interested in putting in the time or energy to work with others to improve the scene.

State College needn’t be considered a lost cause, so long as those with passion for good shows accept the possibility of spending Friday nights away from cover bands and ‘today’s top hits’ on oversized speakers.

For students, there are several decent organizations that put on shows all over campus and downtown, and they’ve fueled a rivalry over the years. Competition is good, but mutual support would benefit the interests of all. This town is a giant pond, and it will take more than a few isolated individuals to make a splash.

This fall could be the time when this town emerges from the Dark Ages. The State Theatre will probably have an even better lineup, and student-run shows set a great precedent in the 2009-10 year. Chronic Town is back and rebuilding its surroundings and fan base. The Music Underground (which will include some of the great minds from Chronic Town) promises to be a ‘central music hub.’

As a business move, The Music Underground is risky. It replaces a music store that was killed by apathy in a town of guilty assailants. It’s success isn’t going to be about selling CDs and records; it will be about selling the concept of music to the people of Happy Valley. That is where you come in.

If you’re sick of hearing only Ke$ha and Lady Gaga from Friday afternoon until Monday morning, if you don’t accept that this is only a ‘drinking town with a football problem,’ if you think the best shows take place in mid-sized venues, step up and join the fight.

It’s time to open the curtains on these Dark Ages. 

Take advantage of opportunities like what The Music Underground is offering. You won’t find many people in town who care about the music scene as much as the people behind this project. 

Talk with them and each other, even if only in memory of the Crowbar.

Trade mixtapes. Promote your solo act. Try to hook your friend’s band up with a performance. Put together mini-performances in the streets. Push for and help plan open mic and open DJ nights around town.

It’s time for a revolution against apathy. It’s time for a new age in the State College music scene.

This could be State College’s Renaissance.