One thing about being in your early-twenties (I've begun the descent towards my late-twenties last week) and living 45 minutes to an hour away from New York City is the access you have to a bunch of cool DIY spaces. Just a couple of years ago -- when I existed solely to drink and listen to music -- I constantly found myself in Brooklyn with a best friend seeing bands play mostly because we could (also it was cheap).
There are three venues in particular that I absolutely loved. And now, after finding out that they have all indefinitely closed down, I feel like a piece of my past is gone and I won't be able to share it with anyone new.
One my best friends, the one who always took me out to these shows, would say, "When they write books about these places, don't you want to know that you were there? That you were a part of something bigger than you?" To get me out of bed and I'm glad it worked.
Okay, so I've only been here once and it was really crowded and it was really sweaty but both of those things don't bother me. I don't remember who I saw or what happened (I probably drank too much) but I do remember the feeling of being surrounded by people that were there just to listen to music. I also remember a lot of cute cuties so there's that. Did I mention that place was beautiful, too?
Death By Audio
Now I have a lot more memories of this place. It was the first DIY venue I've ever been to and I was surprised at how cheap everything was. I would catch rides down to Brooklyn every Friday or Saturday night with twenty bucks and still have money left over after paying the cover and getting sufficiently drunk. I can't count the times I've been bounced around, hugged, and high-fived in this place and I'm really, really, really upset about the place closing down.
The first time I saw a show at 285 Kent, I had just gotten out of a relationship and I was ready to, well, I guess, meet people. And for the most part, it went pretty well. I talked to more strangers at 285 Kent than I have in my whole life. Part of that night was meeting the lead singer of one of the bands that played and having a couple drinks with him. I don't remember too much of our conversation but I remember it started with the simplest of exchanges:
"I'm not from America what beer do you recommend?" He asked me in an Australian accent. "The cheapest." I replied confidently.
Pitchfork made a pretty good documentary about the closing of the place and why it closed. It's about 30 minutes long and if you have the time, you should check it out. I left it for y'all above.
And after that, we were friends for a night and without 285 Kent we wouldn't have been. For those of you that love going to live shows are there any DIY venues you enjoy?