It is a typical scene outside the door of the Somber Reptile, one of the few venues in Atlanta still supporting punk music. A small crowd of young men and women, all of them in T-shirts sporting nonsensical logos or slogans, stand smoking cigarettes outside the door, as if deciding whether the scene inside warrants their entrance. A young woman in sunglasses sits on a stool by the door, checking ID's and strapping paper wristbands -- the kind that miraculously become stronger as one tries to remove them -- around people's wrists as they walk in.
"Are you playing with one of the bands?" she asks a group of men who have shown up with haircuts that are more architectural than fashionable.
"Yes," they tell her, but here is where the scene becomes unique.
Instead of letting the band in for free, she tells them, "It's a three-dollar donation, or you can give more if you'd like." And the band members, without flinching, reach for their chain wallets and unload a fist-full of dollar bills each into the moneybox by the door.
Why would local punk musicians happily pay to get into a club that has hired them to play? Because on Saturday, when this unique scene took place, the money was going to the Red Cross, and the whole event was organized to benefit victims of the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington, D.C.
"Atlanta needs to lead the way, showing that we care about these important issues and events," said Ben Weaver, one of the directors of Genius Enterprises. Genius Enterprises is the promoting and management company which manages the Somber Reptile, and which organized the benefit on Saturday. Weaver said that the idea for a benefit first came to him from the members of At Any Cost, a local band.
"They called me up on Wednesday, the day after the attacks, saying, 'We want to do something about this,'" said Weaver. After The Masquerade rejected the idea of a benefit, Weaver was the first to step up, offering the Somber Reptile as a venue.
"Music is a powerful thing," said Weaver. "It draws people. It moves people." And so, he set about trying to harness this power to move people "in a positive direction - toward unity and solidarity."
What followed for him was three days with almost no sleep, as he frantically tried to book bands and find volunteers. The response, he said, was overwhelmingly positive.
Tragically Undecided, a band based in Warner Robins, Ga., was just one of those who came to perform at the last minute.
"We got a phone call yesterday at around three o'clock in the afternoon," said one of their band members. "Half the band had gone home to Warner Robins, but I got on the phone. Everything was finalized about one o'clock in the morning."
Another band member chimed in, "I didn't know we were playing until after 2 a.m." But when he did find out, he didn't hesitate to agree, saying that the cause was too important to turn down.
"If you didn't have family who were affected [by the attacks], you know somebody who did," he said. "It's amazing how many people this has affected. We're lucky that it didn't hit any of us, but I've got way too many friends who are sitting at home waiting for phone calls from relatives in New York and Washington."
The scheduling of bands just didn't stop. All day on Saturday, bands were showing up volunteering to play. And not just punk bands: a man showed up with a guitar, volunteering to do an acoustic set; an 11-piece salsa band showed up; a small jazz-influenced acoustic group set up on the stage upstairs. Ben Weaver was elated. "Real musicians can still express emotion, can still talk about relevant issues," he said. Talking about the volunteer bands, he added, "These are the guys who are calling in, who want to do something. Some of these bands even showed up this morning to help clean the venue and get it set up."
By noon on Saturday, the first band had started to play. By two o'clock, there were already seven bands waiting to go on. By six o'clock, with the benefit scheduled to end at seven, the number had expanded to thirteen bands, with more showing up each minute. Stages were set up outside, in the basement, and in the restaurant section of the Somber Reptile. By 2 a.m., when the event culminated, 22 bands had performed on four stages.
As the event progressed, Sophia Bowman-Albirt, who was working the door for Genius Enterprises, best expressed the general sentiment.
"I've been here today since 10:30 AM, cleaning, making signs, calling radio stations, and bands,” Bowman-Albirt said. “And we're going to keep this going as long as there are bands here to play."
"I was sitting around feeling really impotent about [the attacks],” she said about her decision to volunteer her time. "It's been really cathartic getting to work at something that's going to help out."
And, she added, the fundraising was going well. "Almost no one pays just three dollars. A lot of people are giving $10 or so at the door." Some corporate donors were also expected.
Jahmah Lewis, director of promotions for Genius Enterprises, commented on how the terrorist attacks had affected people in Atlanta.
"The day after the event, we had seven bands scheduled, and no one came out," he said. "The bands called, saying they were scared. But I thought, right now is not a time for people to be locked up in their houses. It takes energy to be negative and depressed and pessimistic." The benefit on Saturday, he said, hoped to "take that same energy and turn it into something positive."
He added, "I would like the Somber Reptile to be a representation of what Atlanta is doing for victims of terrorism." Lewis also emphasized the importance of grassroots activism.
"What we're doing today will help change the nature of the Somber Reptile. We're hoping to change the whole neighborhood by doing positive things like this," he said.
And it certainly seemed that they were succeeding in generating a positive atmosphere. The dozens of punk bands - groups not often noted for their general decorum - were getting along in a spirit of solidarity and friendship not often witnessed in musicians of any genre. Teenagers, following their favorite bands, showed up with their parents in tow. And fans and musicians alike volunteered to help out however they could - setting up lights, making signs, moving equipment. Even I was enlisted to help solve a technical problem with one of the soundboards, when the person I was interviewing found out that I knew what was needed.
Of course, all of this might be surprising under other circumstances. But in the wake of the tragic events in New York and Washington, everyone seemed to take this kind of volunteerism for granted.
Amy Hilton, a booker for Genius Enterprises, put it this way: "These attacks are the biggest thing that's happened to any of us in all of our lifetimes. There's nothing that has threatened our country quite as much. Naturally, we want to do everything we can. We want to show that the young people in Atlanta care."
If you looked at the room at the Somber Reptile, lined with dozens of bands, some of them waiting hours to play for free, the fulfillment of Ms. Hilton's goal was obvious. Young people in Atlanta do care about these tragic events. The benefit on Saturday was a further testament to the solidarity and compassion of Americans of all ages.
4 COMMENTS:
They played my house in Athens at the first show we ever booked, and ended up staying...seemed like a long time. But, they did teach me how to make a mean Ramen noodle stew sorta thing. Delicious! They also showed that you can fuck around with people's preconceived notions of what punk and hardcore should be, and come out the other end a far more entertaining and interesting band.
Also, historical sidenote: I think I reviewed this for Heartattack fanzine and was made fun of by Kent McClard for liking the awesome epic jam on this one.