Music

The DIY Resilience of House Shows

as two basement venues close, more pop up

Eric Christenson, photos by Jesse Johnson |

ART UNDERGROUND. Softly, Dear looks cramped in the basement of the Glassworks Playhouse, but audiences were privy to an intimate show in a unique space.
ART UNDERGROUND. Softly, Dear looks cramped in the basement of the Glassworks Playhouse, but audiences were privy to an intimate show in a unique space.

This spring, two of Eau Claire’s most active indie basement venues shut down, simply because their tenants moved out – it’s just what tends to happen.

Leases fulfilled and a full year of hosting a few underground shows a month – if not weekly – under their respective belts, Softly, House and the Glassworks Playhouse called it quits, leaving a pretty substantial hole in the scene.

Eau Claire needs spaces like these.

Despite light penchants for underage drinking, noise complaints, and some inherent shoddiness, these are places where young musicians can be nurtured into prevalence in a loving community of performers and show-goers under the warm glow of out-of-season Christmas lights.

Luckily, losing Softly and Glassworks is not as desperate as I made it seem.

Hudson House, a Randall Park living room venue co-opted by the dudes from Hounds Before Lions, continues to plug away, hosting one or two shows a month, but it has its limitations. Without a suitable basement, Hudson shows are thrown in the living room on the ground floor, forcing earlier and quieter shows.

Eau Claire needs spaces like these. Despite light penchants for underage drinking, noise complaints, and some inherent shoddiness, these are places where young musicians can be nurtured into prevalence in a loving community of performers and show-goers under the warm glow of out-of-season Christmas lights.

One of Hudson’s tenants and bookers, Rick Haneman (who also drums with Hannah Hebl and Hounds Before Lions) said his living situation isn’t long-term by any means, so it’s more important to be flexible with your own limitations.

“I’m not gonna soundproof my living room,” he told me. “I live in my living room.”
Hudson’s great for the right act, but can’t carry an entire genre-bending music community on its shoulders alone.

So what’s nice is that as soon as a house calls it a day, in a matter of months somebody else will take the reins and host someplace different. They just keep popping up; it’s the pure nature of student housing, combined with a resilient DIY scene. Usually about every year or two, there are one or two new basements throwing shows and one or two that have closed their doors for good.

By the end of the month, Dave Power and Leo Srei of Adelyn Rose will start hosting shows in their garage or basement in Randall Park, though their space’s name is pending (at press time, the “frontrunner” names are Castle On The Lake, Lake House or Hyena Hotel, though none seem likely to take hold quite yet).

As part of Adelyn Rose, The Island of Dr. Lee, Hannah Hebl, and Puncher, Power and Strei have been ensconced in the house show scene for years, so now that they’re throwing shows, they recognize some of the scene’s drawbacks while trying to retain its magic.

One of the indie scene’s failures is getting frequenters to pay for shows – which comes partially as a result of being spoiled by free, bring-your-own-beverage basement shows. If a band is playing at the House of Rock and there’s a $5 cover, Power said it’s hard to get them to come out.

“You finish your set and walk to the Joynt and they’re there spending money on beer,” he said with a laugh.

And it’s a pretty stark contrast to the hardcore scene, which Power’s still getting used to, playing drums with righteous hardcore band, Puncher.

“The hardcore scene is still – it’s coming back again. Hardcore kids show up, pay covers, buy albums, drink all the beer, but they’re spending money because they care,” he said.

But in some instances, it’s an advantage to have a venue for a year – maybe two – at a time.

The Midwaste Motel was a hardcore basement hotspot for years, but eventually people (and the police) started to pick up on where exactly it was, and more importantly, what was going on there. That bleeds into the indie scene as well.

Strei told me you have to stay vigilant and a little cagey. By the end of their respective runs, Softly and Glassworks would see some unfamiliar riff raff wandering through the student ghetto, coming into their houses not looking to see music, but looking to party.

“The longer that it’s around, the people that aren’t necessarily into the music, but hear that it’s a cool party house, show up just to drink there,” Strei said. “As soon as it becomes a place to underage drink, it‘s not really good for the house owners or the bands.”

Throwing a house show is a tricky thing to pull off. On top of trying to be courteous to neighbors, obeying the law, as well as making the space hospitable and conducive to live music, you have to do promotion, marketing, and get your friends to do the same.

“It’s a lot of work,” Haneman said. “If you want to have a successful shows, it’s making flyers and Facebook events and mass texting all your friends.”

But no one would consistently go through all that work if it wasn’t worth it, right? Nobody risks inviting people (and strangers) into their homes – even temporarily – to throw serious basement shows unless it’s completely essential to the well-being of our little arts community.

House shows will never completely replace “legitimate” venues, but for their purposes, they’re 100 percent necessary. These are comfortable, safe, all-ages spaces that allow for community, expression, the freedom to be completely experimental, have fun – and above all, most importantly, make good art freely accessible to those who long for it.