A venue here, a venue there

Bigger isn’t always better

In my time, I’ve been lucky enough to professionally grace a lot of the big stages of Australia. That’s where the mega stars play, unless they are so popular that they build their own arena. Done a fair few of those too. But the truly memorable shows all occurred in smaller, more intimate venues. Here are a few that I have enjoyed.

It’s only natural that I start with my home turf of Melbourne. Early shows at the Seaview Ballroom, Prince of Wales and the Esplanade opened my naive suburban eyes to goths, punks and all manner of weirdos. They all seemed to congregate around St Kilda, and Fitzroy St has long been colourful. It was cheap to live around there in the 80s and was quite a scene. The carpet in the Prince bandroom was stickier than Superglue and load in/out access was a bitch. But I saw legendary gigs from acts as diverse as Harem Scarem, X, Roy Buchanan, Boss Hog and a billion shows with Cosmic Psychos / Hardons / Meanies / Seminal Rats / Bored / Powdermonkeys or any combo thereof.

North of the Yarra, there was a different vibe going on. It was, and still is, a more folky / indy scene than down South and the venues tend(ed) to be smaller. Not only did this mean a different scale of bands but in-house PAs and minimal lighting also meant less opportunities for crew. As a patron, it was great – so many cool venues within walking distance of each other. Punters Club front bar was a regular haunt, sometimes I even went in to watch the bands. Evelyn across the road and The Rainbow or Lord Newry a short walk away all had a good mix of something worth seeing.

The Tote is a legend unto itself, recently rescued from developers and now under trust to be a venue forever. It still retains the same scungy DIY feel that has launched a thousand acts. Given how off-tap I was during most of my time there, the only interesting stories I have are unpublishable. I will forever cherish memories of that place and am glad that more generations will get the same chance.

I got locked into the bar of The Club one day. We’d finished soundcheck and I went upstairs to make a phone call (pre mobiles then!). The venue manager didn’t realise I was in there and deadlocked the door before taking off home for the afternoon. The band waved au revoir through the window and went to dinner while I waited it out, mixing myself cocktails of every spirit in the place. By the time I was released, I was well drunk. We still had a show to do!

Geographically central, the once proudly working-class suburb of Richmond was the musical link between North and South. Before, during and after I lived in that ‘burb, The Corner Hotel has always been a mainstay. So many shows, so many memories; Ben Harper and Sharon Jones stand out in the distance of time. A bunch of us hired the rooftop space for a combined birthday party once – most of us dropped several tabs – it was a riot (in my head, anyway).

The Central Club pulled a different roster and could be likened to a beer barn located in town. Smaller venues like the Richmond Club and the Riverside Inn gave a lot of bands starts but also had a lot of empty nights.

Later on, The Old Greek Theatre kicked off and I got to see and work on some brilliant shows like Rollins Band, Einsturzende Neubauten (Blixa screaming: “I need more shopping trolley. I cannot get enough trolley in the mix!”), The Pogues (where I had to manhandle Shane MacGowan onstage and to his mic so he could sing, he was that out of it), and Tackhead (as a punter, tripping and dancing, then partying with the band afterwards). One time we had to break in to setup (venue manager had lost his keys); another, we waited 5-6 hours for the broken down truck to arrive and then threw together a PA and lightshow in under an hour (I don’t know how it either worked or didn’t fall on the front row – the sprung floor in that room was murder on tall speaker stacks.)

The Palace – home to some of my favourite gigs ever. I was lucky enough to be crew boss and stagehand when Nirvana exploded there. I’ve never experienced such a crowd intensity on that level. All three shows were absolutely electric, and I still get chills remembering them decades later. I was also fortunate enough to work with Prince there. We’d just done the arena show at the (then) National Tennis Centre, which was highly choreographed and very slick. The purple one had decreed that the Palace show was to be fun for band and crew and let them all loose on a power funk extravaganza. Again, I’m getting chills – it was that good.

TISM get a paragraph all of their own (they really need a book). Every show that I saw or worked on, there was a different theme. Each increasingly elaborate, taking many hours to set up (on top of normal production duties). Smaller shows early on just had new costumes but as the venues grew in size, so did the concepts. Stringing up washing lines on pulleys from stage to balcony at the Old Greek so ‘washerwomen’ could pull clothing from machines during the show. By encore, the entire room was covered in full clotheslines.

Building a city skyline at the rear of stage mid set at The Palace, only for ‘workers’ to massacre it with chainsaws while the band played. Damn, they need a book…

North of the border, my best times were had in King’s Cross or inner West Sydney. On tour, we’d often stay at the Lansdowne or Annandale Hotels, doing shows there but also being a home base for Sin City trips. When your bed is only one floor above the stage, it was always tempting to turn one on. We often did just that… The Hopetoun was even smaller but had such a great vibe and was a fave for bands and punters alike. The Cross was always messy, and we’d often end up at The Kardomah Cafe or Springfields – neither great to play in but where all the other crew hung out.

Selinas at Coogee Bay has to get a mention. ~1500 pax with reasonable sightlines and some stellar lineups. I did an Iggy Pop show there that I’ll never forget – he launched offstage in a fury of spittle in just the second song. Most of the other shows there have blurred into a mass of tiny snippets, somehow connected but none whole in their recollection.

Of the other states (QLD, SA, WA and Tas), I mainly flew or drove in, did the show and then moved on. The Old Lion in Adelaide was the only regular haunt for me. It was usually where you could catch up with other crew on their own way through town. The Thebarton was an easy regular gig.

Professionally, I spent far more time in the suburban beer barns of the East Coast than funky inner-city haunts. Before pokies destroyed much of the scene, this was where the bulk of pub scale touring acts played, with a steady stream of 13 tonne trucks following each other around the country. Road rivalry or comradeship were big things. In Sydney, most of these jobs involved stairs, ergo many loaders required.

Usually located out of the way, isolated in a sea of cars, these suburban saloons are inherently unattractive. As is the behaviour of some of the patrons – I’ve seen far more all-ins and carpark brawls in the burbs than any collection of more genteel urban hangouts. The Fosters Carpark Boogie was not a work of fiction.

Arena tours and major festivals ramp up the professionalism and subsequent financial rewards but can lack a bit of the soul inherent in a close and cosy venue. Bigger gigs might be better for working crew, but smaller ones are where they, and the acts they work for, have a platform to get a look in at and maybe even refine their live performance craft. We all have to start somewhere.