|
|
When rumors started to spread in the local music community that Sudsy Malone’s was going to drop its live music format, no one was shocked. Over at least the last three years, those kind of rumors were commonplace. People knew the struggles and frustrations that booker Dan McCabe had encountered, and they could see the dwindling audiences. Month after month, the word was out that Sudsy’s, as an establishment for cutting-edge live music, was doomed.
When it became apparent late last month that a musicless Sudsy’s was certain, the reality sunk in a little more.
It’s easy to take something for granted when it’s there all the time. Sudsy’s was, for better or worse, always a place where you could hear and see a touring band or local group that would never have a shot at playing anywhere else in town. Even if Sudsy’s comes back with live music — a distinct possibility — it’s still doubtful it will ever recapture the “glory days.”
Many factors supported Sudsy’s rise as well as its fall. In the 1980s, the Cincinnati area had clubs like the Jockey Club in Newport, The Plaza in Clifton and Shorty’s in Corryville.
They fostered the Punk and Modern Rock scene that would, by the early ’90s, become more and more of a mainstream staple. When those clubs fizzled out, Sudsy’s became the centerpiece of this “underground” movement.
The club hosted a lot of shows by bands or artists who would eventually go on to be huge — Beck, Everclear and Jeff Buckley being just a scant few. And that’s not to mention underground icons like The Jesus Lizard, Stereolab and Mike Watt. Without Sudsy’s, it’s doubtful those folks would have ever played in Cincinnati at all.
But it was the local band support that made Sudsy’s so important.
Virtually any band would get a shot. You’d start by getting a gig on a Tuesday night and then work toward the more coveted Thursday slot, before getting the ultimate — a weekend night, when, for a few years in the early to mid-1990s, the club was practically guaranteed to be packed.
Of course, even if you never had more than 10 people at your show, you’d still get another shot as long as you kept at it. Playing Sudsy’s wasn’t an audition to see how many people you could draw — it was a breeding ground for creativity.
Sudsy’s, of course, wasn’t perfect. You tend to forget the bad things when reflecting on the good, and Sudsy’s had its fair share of problems, just like any establishment.
“It’s too easy to glorify the dead,” says David Simutis, a veteran of several local bands and currently an L.A.-based free-lancer who writes for CityBeat. Many of the national bands he interviews, he says, have fond memories of Sudsy’s.
“The sound at Sudsy’s was terrible,” Simutis says. “Too loud in the front and too quiet in the back. There was never a good place to sit where you could see the band. The stage was too low. The door was right next to the stage, so the band could see you if you left early. The bartenders, even the ones I got to be friends with, didn’t care about good service. The air conditioning, when it worked, dripped. And the video games would always eat my quarters.”
There’s been a lot of finger-pointing lately as to whose “fault” it was/is that Sudsy’s faded. The fact is, it was everyone’s fault. It was your fault and my fault for not going more frequently. It was the changing times and changing music. It was the Sunday night street-crowding that scared people off — or was it the police on Sunday nights prowling the streets on horseback?
People who used to frequent Sudsy’s got older and moved on with their lives. I remember marveling about how many people would stick their heads in the door at Sudsy’s or make a circle around the washing machines to survey the scene and then leave because there weren’t enough people there (or at least enough of the “right” people). Cincinnatians are notoriously apathetic, and getting people to take chances on new bands has become a near impossibility.
“In the last year or so, audiences seemed to have dwindled to embarrassingly low numbers,” says local musician Mike Montgomery, who plays with the bands Thistle and El Gigante and also runs sound at various venues. “It’s really kind of sad when you think about it. It’s frustrating to watch really great bands play to no one. There almost has to be a cause or a gimmick to get people to go hear live music.”
There is a positive way of looking at losing a venue like Sudsy’s. Musical tastes seem to move cyclically, and maybe (just maybe) live music will become a kick for people again. Maybe we’ll reach a point where people want to get off their computers, get out of the dance clubs, get out of their cover bands and start supporting, loving and making original music again. It could go either way.
“I think it’s the make-or-break point,” says Andrea Millette of local group Kit Kat Club. “Things are either going to explode out of the starting gates from here or die for a while more, then pick up some speed in a few years.”
“With the near death of Indie Rock, or whatever you want to call it, and with Sudsy’s giving up, it’s like a clean slate or starting over,” adds Simutis.
One has to also remember that there are some other places that have original music and it seems in the past year or so, places like the Southgate House, BarrelHouse and The Overflow have begun picking up more of the original acts in town.
“Sudsy’s has such a great central location, and once they deal with their capacity issues, I’m sure they’ll continue to support the scene as much as they can,” says Carrie Reynard of the band Radiolaria. “I’m also sure Southgate House will continue to grow with Chris (Schadler) and Dan (McCabe) booking, and seeing the Comet and Overflow booking originals is encouraging as well. The more bookers in this city that help promote local music, the better off it will be.
“It shouldn’t be up to one club to support bands in this city.”
Remember, Sudsy Malone’s began with nothing to lose. As things got more complicated, it folded in on itself. Let’s hope that, with a clean slate, someone will start something new and unique in a live music setting.
Now excuse me while I log on to the Web to download a concert and order a pizza.
This article appears in Feb 16-22, 2000.