When I hang out with other musicians for any length of time, talk almost inevitably turns to comparing the weirdest places and most surprisingly enjoyable shows we've played. Anyone who's been in a band for any length of time has a tale about showing up for a gig to discover it's being held in an ice cream parlor, or being asked to play somewhere so similarly bizarre that they accept out of sheer curiosity. Hell, the last time the Cocktail Honeys went on tour, we played an Arizona RV park's monthly residents' meeting in exchange for a night's lodging.
While comparatively rare in more mainstream circles, unusual venues and homegrown shows are a long-standing staple of genres like punk, extreme metal and fringe hip-hop. They're one of the most immediately visible elements of the D.I.Y. ethos, a fiercely independent methodology in a musical underground where acts, were they to depend on mainstream clubs for bookings, wouldn't have anywhere to play at all.
"We don't like relying on other people to get stuff done," says Ian Lynne.
Along with his brother Todd and some dedicated friends, Lynne runs Cephia's Treat Recordings, a Seminole Heights-based label with a yen for noisy post-punk, hardcore and experimental sounds. They also curate an ongoing series of wildly daring shows known by the acronym F.A.D. that takes advantage of underutilized (mostly) public spaces to create challenging and truly populist concert experiences.
"It's not like we're anti-this," says Lynne, indicating the New World Brewery around us. "We're just another option."
The Lynne brothers are Bay area fringe-scene veterans, having played in various bands (most notably S.L.D.) over the years. Two years ago, they began issuing cassettes and CD-Rs of music by their current outfit, the two-piece YUKhONIC, and friends' bands, using the Cephia's Treat logo to lend a sense of community. By last fall, they'd scraped together enough capital to release the 19-track, vinyl-only compilation Almost Invisible, and the first few F.A.D. shows had set an exciting precedent.
"We started doing this because there are enough bands we're into, and enough friends of ours are in bands, to put on shows," Lynne says. "We got tired of doing shows in bars, which are cool places, but you get people who are just kind of hanging out and drinking."
Because the groups involved tended to run toward the chaotic and experimental, Lynne and company wanted to stage their gigs somewhere that folks into the music could enjoy it, but where those that couldn't be bothered, wouldn't be. Age was also an issue; not only were many ardent supporters under 21, some younger than 18, but so were plenty of band members. As a result, the first couple of events were held at rented rooms like Seminole Heights' V.F.W. post.
The shows were successful, but those responsible for the halls quickly put the kibosh on continuing gigs, more out of fear and misunderstanding than any actual evidence of antisocial activity.
"[One proprietor] kind of spread the word around that the shows were crazy — which they weren't," says Lynne with a laugh. "The older folks just didn't really get into it."
While casting about for an alternative alternative venue, the Cephia's Treat crew hit upon the idea of no venue at all. The city of Tampa has square miles of paved public domain sitting unused — why not just go out there, set up and play?
Interesting urban areas got new nicknames: The Asphalt Wasteland, an area adjacent to Sulphur Springs Park, also utilized by Margaret Murray's "Movies That Move" drive-in series and former City Council candidate Kelly Benjamin. The Bum Mansion, a wide sidewalk running underneath Hillsborough Avenue where it crosses the river. The Half-Built House of Hope, a skeletal Wal-Mart near the intersection of Gunn Highway and Henderson whose construction has been stalled. Just like that, the F.A.D. series had a host of venues.
Lynne secures a permit for a public arts event from the city; his employment as a preschool teacher undoubtedly helps in this discretionary matter. ("I know some other people that always get turned down," he concurs.) Where there's public electricity, they use it, resorting to a generator when it's unavailable. Technically, the bands can play outdoors until the 11 p.m. noise ordinance kicks in, but they always run the risk of being shut down by anything from weather to a particularly vocal complainant.
When asked about the frequency and severity of police scrutiny, Lynne recalls very little. Cops often drive by, stop and watch the scene for a while, or walk up and ask some questions. They're also quick to let everyone know when the noise curfew is approaching, but F.A.D.'s experience with Tampa's finest has so far been overwhelmingly positive.
"I think they're glad we're not in Ybor, and that we're having an event where young kids can come out," he says.
Still, he's not taking any chances. Alcohol consumption and general jackassery aren't tolerated.
Most of the F.A.D. shows are free, though there may be a required donation of two or three bucks if there's a touring band on the bill. And when a cover is charged, all of the money goes to the bands. All Lynne and his cohorts get out of the deal is satisfaction and maybe some free merch.
"I think we've accomplished what we wanted to do, [which was] do it ourselves and do it for free, or do it for some of the touring bands' records," says Lynne. "Make it affordable. Make it honest. There are local shows at clubs that cost seven, eight bucks."
F.A.D. shows usually draw a relatively small throng of 40 to 80 fans, though crowds have occasionally swelled to as large as 200. And when you're doing something for free that other people are trying to do for a living, they're gonna take notice. Lynne confirms that he's gotten e-mails from several local promoters, asking him to postpone, reschedule or move gigs up to an earlier start time. He won't name names, though, simply saying, "It's not a battle — they're just not being very supportive."
The F.A.D. co-op is looking for a semi-permanent space, or at least somewhere they can safely move shows in the event of inclement weather or forcible shutdown. In a way, it's a step toward officialdom, but Lynne stresses that they'll continue to put gigs on the same way they have for the past year or so — cheaply, openly and interestingly.
"If we couldn't have any more ever," he adds, "I'd be happy with what we've done."
For a schedule of F.A.D. shows and directions to venues, check out www.cephiastreat.com.
CORRECTION: The Toys That Kill/Arcade Inferno/The Rogue Set/Fastplant show listed in last issue's Music Menu for June 6 at St. Pete's ACL Club is actually scheduled for July 6. Our apologies.
Scott Harrell can be reached at 813-248-8888, ext. 109, or by e-mail at scott.harrell@weeklyplanet.com.
This article appears in Jun 11-17, 2003.