Today was pretty awesome. Practicing for Friday’s show at Pehrspace *cough you should totally come it’s gonna be rad *cough* made me feel inspired and elated even after a lengthy day toiling away at this business we call life. Nothing can describe the moments when the air is resonating with the vibrations from so many instruments around you, so many minute movements from the lovely humans that have embarked upon a sonic adventure. After my awesome band comrades departed, I hopped on the internet to catch up on the news of the day and send out messages about my show. I intended to go to go bed at a reasonable hour and put on my flannel pjs just to drive that goal home.
However, instead of drifting off to sleep, I read the latest blog from one of my favorite LA venues, the wondrous Echo Curio. I was extremely saddened to learn that after a ridiculous run in with the police (who shuts down a venue while the audience is singing “Happy Birthday” to the performer??), this much loved venue is indeed closed. You can read the whole story on their site but to summarize, it’s a rather absurd tale of bureaucracy. I fully understand why venues need permits but I cannot abide by a system that makes getting those permits nearly impossible to due Kafka-esque government navigation strategies and high monetary prices. Why does it have to cost so much money to provide such a positive service to the community? Why does it cost so much time that Grant and Justin, who have volunteered for countless hours at the Curio, lost patience with the process?
A year ago, I picked the Echo Curio as the venue for my e.p. release show because I loved all the shows I’d seen there. I loved that the audience was attentive and genuinely curious about the music. I loved that the bills were eclectic and inspiring at best and entertaining at worst. I loved seeing friends and strangers playing there, looking at the art on the walls, trying not to trip in the over my own feet in the bathroom (ok, the bathroom was small but I’m clumsy, forgive me). I played my very show with a band at the Echo Curio. I accidentally conceived of the concept for my first album sitting on the curb outside the Echo Curio with my friend Karin after a great set by Fol Chen. I did my first live webcast from the Echo Curio. Without realizing it, the Echo Curio became an important part of my musical identity and I am grateful for it. They gave me and other artists a chance to experiment, to grow into ourselves and to find our best selves. As a new musician, it was hard getting people in LA to book me. Bookers want to know your draw, to know your crowd, to know how much promotion you can do for their venue. I definitely understand that venues need to make money to stay open. However, The Echo Curio never asked me to bring people to a gig, to pre-sell tickets, never pressured me to do anything except make the best music I could possibly make. My shows at the Curio were without exception my best ones, with my biggest crowds because they let me focus on being a musician and not a promoter. The Curio did their job in creating a fantastic place for creativity and I did my job creating a show for them.
Every city, especially Los Angeles, needs a venue like the Echo Curio. Of course I love going to see shows at “established” venues like the Troubadour and the Wiltern but there is an inexplicable magic in seeing a band evolve into the band they might be when they play those venues. Seeing an artist in such an intimate setting is invaluable and performing in such a space is transformative. Perhaps most importantly, its vital to allow the arts to thrive in all forms so that artists can ascend and grow instead of being discouraged by a lack of space to display and perform their work. Every band needs that first chance to put themselves out there and the Echo Curio was the spot to be.
Perhaps the best we can all do is to unite together, to support the smaller and bigger venues, to encourage each other to try something new.
The Echo Curio is dead. Long live the Echo Curio.
