Paper about show houses in Davis, California, written in 2005 by Rob Roy …
Rob Roy, March 7, 2005 – ENL 14C
Illegal Music: House Shows in Davis
Pretty much every rock star has been to one. Hell, pretty much every rock star has preformed at one. House shows. It’s where all musicians start out. To some people a house show could mean a party that has a band playing; to others it can mean a concert that just so happens to be in a living room, basement, or garage.
House shows are more prevalent in smaller cities that have a large enough demand for musicians to come and play but not a large enough demand for there to be an official venue for these bands to play at. The types of bands that play house shows are either up-and-comers or simply musicians who play types of music where they will never be accepted by the mainstream so many bars or coffee shops or night clubs wouldn’t want them playing because their type of music because isn’t as accessible and marketable. But there is a demand for it so house shows exist.
Davis is one of those towns that has a lot of people who want to see live music that is not heard in bars or nightclubs. With a population of a little over 60,000 and about a third of that being college students it is a town with an interesting demographic. Many of the college student rent houses so they have access to a living space that can host a mini-concert. Also, Davis is home to KDVS, a free form community radio station broadcasting at 9200 watts that can be heard, on a clear day, within a radius of fifty to a hundred miles away. Davis is also twenty miles away from Sacramento, a city of nearly half a million people.
There are several houses in Davis that have a long history of putting on shows. Some houses just put on a couple shows and then never do it again. Some hosts put on too many shows and after getting a talking-to from the police or their landlord, wish they never started in the first place. Going back to the 1970’s there have been many houses, with great names, that put on shows, such as: The Unlist House, 720 Anderson, the Charred Dog House, the Aggie Hotel, the Turtle House, the Bunny House, the D.A.M. Haus, the Pirate Ship, Loyola II, the D Street House, and many others.
Detailing the history of every house and every host would fill the contents of an entire book so I talked with a few notable figures in the house show community and asked them to talk about their experience with house shows in Davis.
THE OLD DAYS
Guy Kyser was one of Davis’ greatest exports, at least in the early nineties he was. His band, Thin White Rope, was the first musical group signed to an independent record label to tour Russia after the fall of the Soviet Union.
He tells me over that phone that started attending house shows in Davis in 1984.
“Back then it was a tight scene,” Kyser proclaims with a reminiscent tone to his voice. “I had a lot of friends that worked at KDVS and they would tell me about all these bands coming through and we’d all go and check them out.”
Over the years the venues have changed as Kyser points out. “The Olive Pit was an awesome place. It was around in 1986 thru 88. It was a warehouse at the dead-end of Olive Drive over by Murder Burger. No one lived around there accept for the people who lived at the warehouse. It had a jerry-rigged back porch and a plywood door and the cops were always busting it. There were no neighbors but still, there was underage drinking, so the cops shut it down.”
The police have always been the biggest enemy of underground music in Davis. “The cops even shut down a Record Shop for having live music,” Kyser points out. “The city is very anti-noise. They even made the Palms, a legitimate Blues club, move out of Davis. No venues last because they are always getting busted. The city just doesn’t like to be reminded that people who live here may want to get drunk, listen to some live music, and have a good time.”
When I ask why house shows are necessary Kyser defends them saying, “First off. Nothing is more fun as a house show.” Despite having been a somewhat successful musician he also tells me, “I don’t like stages. House shows just have the best attitude. When you go to play a house you know people will at least be there for some sort of party. When you play a bar or coffee shop you don’t know what to expect. Of course with house shows, you never know if they’ll have the right equipment for the bands.”
“A lot of bands treat Davis as the stop between places,” Kyser confesses. “Hell, if I didn’t live here that’s what I would do. That’s what the Violent Femmes did back in 1984 when they played 616 Anderson. It was an awesome show. The best I’ve ever seen. And at the end of it we all crammed into a caravan of cars and went down to watch the Femmes play again in Berkeley that same night.”
I asked Guy Kyser what Davis would need to do so there wouldn’t be a need for house shows. He was silent for a moment after I asked the question as if he knew the city will never give up its fight against underground music and the music lovers will never give up their fight for house shows.
“I still don’t understand the city,” Kyser continues. “I haven’t gone to a house show in about ten years because I have a wife and kids now but the city’s mentality just doesn’t make sense. The city would have to make zone where people could just make noise and then just leave it alone and not worry about it. But they have a bad attitude so they’ll never do it.”
Mick Mucus is a punk rock legend. Back in the eighties when he was a teenager in Concord, California he founded the band Anal Mucus and with that band he toured America. But since the mid nineties he has been living in Davis and putting on house shows in his living room. He still is in several bands, and tours with them, but he is famous for other reasons now. He is a concert promoter, a community college student, a pizza deliveryman, and a KDVS disc jockey. As he says it, “I lead a charmed life.”
Mick’s real name is Mick Pin. He was born in Peru and came to America as a child. He is a great patriot and keeps an American Flag in his window every day of the year.
One of the most important things in Mick’s life, besides keeping his beautiful girlfriend happy, is putting on house shows. He has lived in three different houses during the dozen years he has lived in Davis. He started out on N street, then he lived on L Street, and now he lives on G street.
He hasn’t been moving because he just has a desire to keep going west, but rather he has had financial issues and has moved out of necessity. The westwardness of it all is just a coincidence. But whenever he moves he always takes into account whether or not he can, “play my drums, have band practice, record music, and put on an awesome punk rock shows. I don’t care what size my room is. I’ll sleep on the floor as long as I can rock and roll.” He speaks with the scratchy stutter of thirty-three year old pot smoker. Shaking his head as he speaks. His three-foot long dark dread locks drape over his shoulders and frame his round olive face. “Some people want solar heating. Some people want a washer dryer. I want to play punk rock.”
Even though there are bars in Davis that host live music Mick still wants to put on shows at his house. G street pub is perhaps the most famous bar in Davis that features live music but Mick says, “there is no good punk rock at G street pub. In ten years I have only seen three good shows there and I played in one of them.”
Many people think that Davis is a progressive town full of liberals. A town full of reformed hippies. But Mick doesn’t think so, at least when it comes to live music. “There is nowhere in Davis to do art for art’s sake,” Mick says when asked why he believes that concerts have to be held in living rooms. “Besides house shows, every venue wants money. Punk rock is not money making music but there is a demand for it in Davis and a supply of kids who want to see and hear it because we have this awesome radio station in town that the kids listen to.” Mick’s eyes scan the poster-covered walls of the KDVS lounge and lists off many of the kids who have grown up in Davis that he thinks have learned about real alternative music through house shows and KDVS.
Mick hasn’t always been putting on house shows. Back when he first came to town he put on punk rock shows at the now defunct Cheezers pizza and at Third and B – a teen center now that only caters to 12 year video game players. But when Cheezers went up and Third and B was taken over but non-live music friendly parents Mick had to take the punk rockers into his own house.
Mick’s first house show was in 1995 at his house on N street. It was a Food not Bombs benefit show. It raised $80 for Food not Bombs – a punk rock/hippie charity that feeds the homeless.
Mick doesn’t make any money off house shows. In fact they cost him a good deal. “If I’m putting on a full on Bar-b-que punk rock show, not including property damage, it costs me about $125.” At Mick’s house on G Street, referred to as the Charred Dog House, there is usually a Saturday afternoon BBQ to encourage people to show up early. He gets two kegs of beer even though Mick doesn’t even drink beer. He used to have the nickname Bourbonbreath but he has given up liquor for his girlfriend. With a smile Mick says, “People used to be more generous. They used to stick around and clean up. But now that’s all left to me.”
Mick doesn’t ask for donations, he lets the traveling bands pass around a hat after they play. “How much a band gets depends on a lot of things. How awesome they are. How far they came. How many people came to watch them. Lots of things. Bands make anywhere from ten bucks to forty bucks.” At G Street pub bands get at least a hundred dollars to play there. Mick knows this, but he says, “Bands come from all corners of the earth to play my house. Argentina. Canada. Europe. Japan. Its not a question of money or popularity it’s a question of reputation and tradition.”
Mick thinks back to some of his most legendary shows. He says the best shows are at summer time because of the bar-b-ques. “A bar-b-que just seems natural in the summer. This last forth of July a guy put an M-80 in a watermelon while people lit fireworks indiscriminately. It was pretty awesome.”
Even I have been known to get naked and go swimming in Mick’s kiddy pool during summer time bar-b-ques.
At the first show at his house on G Street Mick had three kegs. It was in late September when school was starting at UC Davis. The Evaporators, a band from Vancouver, played in the living room. The lead singer crowd-surfed and his sweaty hairy back left stains on the ceiling that are still noticeable to this day. In the back yard Tyson Nichols, the lead singer of The Keystone Eyes and the same man that blew up the watermelon this last forth of July, threw a doghouse into a bonfire. The charred shell of the doghouse sat in the back yard for months and led people to call his house The Charred Dog House.
Maybe Mick can get away for telling me this because he is Peruvian but he claims the reason why his house shows are so crazy is because of diversity. And diversity, according to Mick, “causes debauchery.”
“We don’t get the artsy crowd,” Mick acknowledges. “We get 40 year old rocker dudes from Concord. We’ve been at war with the D.A.M. Haus for years. The Warnekees, a bunch of punkers from Concord that I’m friends with, played the D.A.M. Haus and threw donuts into the crowd so Brian Weiss from the D.A.M. Haus dumped saw dust on the floor of my house when I let his band play my living room.”
Maybe it is because of rivalries with other houses but once, back in ’97, Mick couldn’t find a venue or a show so he broke into an abandoned superfund site in east Davis and found a working electrical outlet. He had a punkrock show there one afternoon until the police came and shut it down. Mick points out, “The Cops are bored and incompetent in this town but at least they didn’t arrest anyone that day.”
“I’ve never gotten a noise violation,” Mick tells me with a straight face, knowing full well that I have gotten several. Mick attests his luck to the fact that he leads a charmed life. “I’ve been poor but I’ve never wanted anything. I’ve only been hungry a few times. I’ve overcome the demon they call alcoholism. And I let the neighbors know before I put on a punkshow because it’s the considerate thing to do.”
“But I would like a legitimate venue for Davis,” Mick laments as I watch a pot pipe fall out of his pants pocket. “One thing I hate is that is that you have to sell alcohol in order to have live music because you can’t make any money unless you sell alcohol.”
Near the end of the interview I said that “Davis sucks” and Mick was slightly offended.
“Davis doesn’t suck. Sure there is too much of the ‘my life is a rock video’ culture in Davis. Too much of the hands waving out of the car, look-at-me stuff going one,” Mick says, referring to the MTV obsessed non-alternative culture which most of the college students belong to. “But,” he says as he thumbs through records before his radio show, “this is my rock video.”
THE PRETENTIOUSLY ANTI-MUSIC
The Davis Anti Music House is perhaps the most pretentious of all the houses in Davis. They have shows every two months or so and when they do they serve h’orderves, wine, and cheese. Maybe they do this because they are competing with Mick’s backyard cheep beer bar-b-ques, but if you ask Brian Weiss, who has lived there for about half a dozen years, it is because they “serve smart food for smart people.”
Rick Ele, another inhabitant of the house can list off the nearly one hundred bands that have played in his living room. He travels all across the west coast to see bands play in living rooms just like they do in Davis. He feels a strong burden to put on house shows. Like most of the house show hosts he is a musician himself, having been in the popular band Paparoach for a week in the mid nineties – long before the band was successful. When he sees teenagers in Davis being irresponsible and not doing anything with their lives he thinks music could be a cure to that problem. As Ele states plainly,
“Maybe if the city gave a damn about their bored-sick youth, they wouldn’t be so rotten.”
The D.A.M. Haus has been putting on shows since the early nineties. They got their name because back then they had what they call “noise shows.” Bands that freely admit to playing a genre of music called “noise” would routinely play the house and so they adopted the title of the anti-music house.
The D.A.M. Haus keeps its nudity in doors. Last time I was there I saw the Sacramento band Sexy Prison strip totally naked during their set while about eighty people crammed in to the living room and a hallway all trying to watch. Nudity seems to be a tradition for the performers at this house since the second to last time I was there the one-man band Metal City stripped totally naked during his set.
Rick Ele is a KDVS DJ and competes with Mick Mucus for the title of the most musically connected person in Davis.
“What’s the best house show I’ve seen in Davis?” Brian Faulkner repeats the question I asked him back to himself.
“Pussy Galore at the Aggie Hotel. It was crazy. About 120 people showed up. Mike Sullivan, The guy that lived there tore out a wall of his apartment so it was an L shape. Bands would play in the center and people would stand in both rooms a watch. But Pussy Galore was awesome. It was insane.”
Brian goes on to give back ground history on members of Pussy Galore and names a slew of other bands he saw at the Aggie Hotel like the Screaming trees and Thin White Rope. Brian tells me all this while he fidgets with his big read beard and taps his hand on his knee, leaning back on a couch in the lobby of KDVS where he has been a DJ at off and on since the late 1980’s.
“Where is the Aggie Hotel?” I ask out of confusion, having lived in Davis for almost three years and never hearing of it.
Brian says with a quick nod, “Oh it got torn down a couple years ago. But there were shows there for a couple years in the late eights.”
When asked why the shows stopped being held there Brian grimaces and says, “It got shut down because people got evicted. The cops came a lot. You know, the usual problems. People would spill out through the back door onto the train tracks. And the cops would always come.”
Ben Duax, who is sitting next to Brian, joins the conversation saying that the Aggie Hotel used to be at 2nd and G, but Pasta (?), a new trendy restaurant, is there now.
Duax, as many refer to him by his last name, says with a smirk that the best house show he has ever seen in Davis was the one where a girl tried to kill herself at. Duax is eighteen years old and has a humor that shows his age. A KDVS DJ since the age of fourteen he has been invested in Davis House show culture since before he needed to shave (even tough he doesn’t shave now, choosing to have thin scraggly facial hair that defines his apathy for appearance, as well as his youth).
“The best real house show in Davis was Avey Tare and Panda Bear in the basement at Sandra’s house at 527 D Street. Avey Tare and Panda Bear changed their name a year later and then…” his voice gets louder and gains a sarcastic tone … everyone loved them.”
He begins picking at a stain on his green John Deere T-shirt. “Now they are called Animal Collective and they were in Rolling Stone. But they played in my girlfriend’s basement and that made me feel hip,” he says with a chuckle.
Chad Stockdale, another KDVS DJ and owner of Weird Forest Records, sits down on the couch for a moment. While chewing on a hamburger from Ali Baba’s he says franking with an open mouth, “Animal Collective were just fucking amazing. Much better than they are now.”
Chad swallows his bite of burger and Ben Duax continues his spiel on why old girlfriend’s house was great clarifying, “The House on D street was rad because cops never came except for when this girl fell down on a bunch of glass and there was blood everywhere. She fell down and slashed her wrists. She ran around and there was blood of over the place. Mick Mucus and his girlfriend called the police.”
Duax runs his fingers across the back of his ear, being sure his almost shoulder length unwashed hair stays out of his face. “Yeah, having house shows in a basement is awesome.” And then keeps telling the story of the girl cutting herself.
Nix Glass, a thin swarthy man of a mysterious ethnicity has been sitting at the couch this whole time without saying anything. I ask him about house shows in Davis and he says, “I’ve been to so many fucking house shows in this town in makes me want to puke.” He pauses for a second and he continues with his calm low voice. “The only good house show was the one they had at D.A.M. house in 1995. The only good house shows happen at the D.A.M. house.” Nix suddenly gets excited and says, “I haven’t been to a show since 2000.”
Duax challenges Nix, saying he has seen him at Mick Mucus’ house. Nix concedes he usually gets to about the door at Mick’s and then he sees some one he hates. “Maybe I go to the back yard hoping to see a naked girl. But I smoke about half a cigarette and when I don’t see anything. I leave.”
Nix is an owner of Samplistic records, possibly the most successful record label in Davis. He has had a radio show on KDVS for over ten years and spins records at the Delta of Venus coffee shop on Friday nights.
I ask Nix why there are house shows in Davis. Nix says as if it were obvious, “’Cause they’re no venues. Because Davis sucks. Davis P.D. sucks and the city council sucks and the whole Davis culture sucks.” He pauses for a breather and then ads, “Specifically because of the Downtown Business Association. They’re not enough bars. Not enough liquor licenses. And we need a roller rink. And shows at the roller rink. That would be tight,” he says with wide eyes.
Ben adds, “I don’t think you can get a liquor license in Davis unless you are one of the five richest men in Davis.”
Nix gives an example of the now defunct bar, The Blue Velvet, which used to be next to Woodstock Pizza. “The Blue Velvet was shut down after only a month because the cops raided them at midnight every night. Because they had a provisional license. And you can’t serve alcohol after midnight if you had a provisional license.”
Ben asks Nix about Delta of Venus’ license, because they are open past midnight on some night.
Nix answers, “Delta is all right. They have a beer and Wine license. But they don’t even have a license for dancing. No one really cares about that though.”
I ask what would end the need for a house shows in Davis and Ben says to himself “end the need?” as if he couldn’t fathom a world without house shows.
Nix states blankly, “Nothing. Nuclear war. If everyone was dead it would end the need.” Then Nix gets serious, “If the city gave up the varsity a promoter could put on good shows there. But Davis sucks so they won’t do that.”
THE HARDCORE KIDS
Radish used to live at the Unlist house. Every house that is a house show venue in Davis has a name and the reason for it being called the Unlist house is that the drummer for both bands The List and Unless lived there. Seeing as it is on Loyola Drive a lot of people call the house: the Loyola House.
Radish is thin. Has curly dark hear and glass so that he looks like an older angrier version of Alvin from the Chipmunks. I talk to him about putting on house shows while he eats an apple at lunchtime on campus. His lunchbox is an army medic tine.
“I’ve put on ten shows at the Loyola House,” Dan claims. “The best one was the first Sachikopoolza in 2003. A bunch of bands played for Sachiko’s birthday party. But the most crowded one was our first Halloween show. This band called Beneath the Remains played and they are pretty big. There were so many people I didn’t no. Just too many people. The show was good though. There were huge moshpits in the garage. I kept thinking, ‘Oh my God the garage is going to fall down tonight’.”
The house on Loyola blends into a perfectly normal and boring Davis neighborhood. From the street no one would know that in its garage there are dozen of mattresses lining the walls and layers of carpet on the floor so that the sound emanating form the garage is deadened.
Hardcore music is the term used for most of the bands that play at the Loyola House. It is loud. It is aggressive. If the neighbors hear it then the neighbors will complain.
“We only let our friends’ bands play,” Radish confesses. “We know a lot of bands from the area and our home towns. It is hard to be comfortable with a band playing in your house that you don’t know personally. Beneath the Remains, I didn’t know by one of my roommates at the time did.”
Obviously house shows are a good way to expose different people to different bands. Radish, as the lead singer of the band Unless and a man who has played his own house and others, says “House shows are the most fun. The funnest shows we ever played – even though we sounded like ass – were playing in living rooms. It is more intimate. When a band plays in a living room everyone is watch and listen. If the band is good you feel like going crazy and dance around. It’s better than shows at the Coffee House or at bars.”
There are two different types of house venues in Davis: The student run and the townie run. Most venues are run by permanent fixtures to Davis, like the D.A.M. House, the Charred Dog House, or the now defunct Bunny House. House shows in Davis’ party atmosphere means a lot people attend concerts at houses looking for free booze and do not come for the live music.
“Most people come to house shows for the parties,” Radish admits. “They expect me to buy them beer and then they all get drunk and I have to worry about people breaking windows and writing on the walls. That is always the problem letting strangers into your home.”
Radish, despite his black shirt, black hair, and black pants, and the way he screams the lyrics to all of his songs, is a rather polite individual. He answers questions nervously. He fidgets by constantly moving his legs on the picnic table bench he sits on. He sits on his legs. He squats. He sits on his hands.
Radish remembers back to his early days in Davis. “The first sure I went to in Davis was at the Charred Dog house. All the flyers said seven pm so a friend and me watched we should show up right at seven. No one was there and we didn’t know only who lived there so we just sat around and watched Mick Mucus bar-b-que for an hour.”
The common consensus of house show hosts is that houses are alternatives to venues. Radish wants people he doesn’t know to just leave after the music ends. “I wouldn’t stick around a house if I didn’t know the people. It’s just rude. Especially the people who don’t come for the music. They just hang out in the back yard and smoke and drink. They yell and that is what brings the police. The people yelling in the backyard. My number one concern is the police coming during house shows. Number two is property damage.” Radish thinks for a second and then adds, “Once we had Water For Free play in the summer. Since we have bands play in our garage, instead of the living room like most houses, it got so hot only fifteen people were watching the music and everyone was in the backyard. The cops came and we had to kick everyone out. It is annoying to look like an asshole but somebody has to do it.”
I went to 2005 Sachikopoolza a few days after interviewing Radish and it seemed like the perfect crowd for him. Maybe fifty to seventy people in the house. Most of them were trying to watch the bands play. The many “No Drinks in the Garage” signs that were plastered about the house seemed to be working. I stood in the garage and watched Unless perform. Radish was in the center of the crowd pacing back and forth in front of the crowd. They were playing an entirely cover-song set. When the band went into the a cover of the German metal band Rammstein’s “Du Hast” everyone in Unless put on welder’s goggles and the forty people in the garage pumped their fist at the appropriate point in the song when Radish repeated “Du hast mich.”
On that evening no one had to be an asshole. All the bands were over by around 10pm and the cops never came. For Radish I’m sure it was a night dreams are made of.
While writing this article events unfolded that changed the live music community: The Pirate Ship died. Much like Mick Mucus’ houses on N street or L Street and the Aggie Hotel from the early nineties and even 616 Anderson itself from the eighties, the Pirate Ship is dead. Of all the houses in Davis it had one of the oldest histories of putting on live shows. In the late 70’s the Avengers, a band that opened for the Sex Pistols and is still heralded as punk rock pioneers to the day, played at 616 Anderson. Of course Guy Kyser and his friends used to frequent 616 (as they called it) in the mid 80’s. And 25 years after the house had its first show a group of people, of which I’m a part of, moved in and called it the Pirate Ship.
My roommates and I used to live at 748 Mulberry and we put on about a show a month for the year we were there until we were evicted. We then moved into 616 Anderson, a house just around the corner from our old one. At the time we moved in we had no idea of its history until I got an e-mail from Guy Kyser telling me about how the Violent Femmes, the Meat Puppets, the Replacements, and several other famous bands playing at my house in the eighties.
The last show at the Pirate Ship was supposed to be five bands: Hotel Pistol, Chow nasty, Gang Wizard, Christina Carter, and Militant Children’s Hour.
It is custom for one of the people who live at the house to walk around the day before a show and tape a message on the doors of the neighbors telling them we’ll have live music in our living room but we will have it over by ten at night. When my housemate Dan went around the neighbors, the old bitter woman around the corner told him that no matter she’d call the police if she hears anything.
Right after the neighbor said that to Dan, my housemate Joe picked up the phone and it was the landlord calling. Our neighbors had called her up to complain. The neighbors claimed that we were running a nightclub out of the house and had bands every weekend into late in the evening. The neighbors also found the website we had for the house. Joe apologized the landlord and told her that we’ll stop doing what we are doing. He didn’t even try to tell her that we have noise reduction board placed over every window in the living room and that we keep people out of the backyard so that the neighbors won’t hear screaming students, or that we have all the bands end at 10pm. The landlord was irate and an argument might have meant eviction.
So we were stuck. We had bands there ready to play. A growing audience. A P.A. system and a small stage set up. We sent Gang Wizard home because they are from Sacramento and it is no big deal for them. Chow Nasty already had a double show booked at our house and G Street pub in Davis so we just took them off the bill at our place and then we went Hotel Pistol to play with Chow nasty at G Street.
And then we got fearless. We let Christina Carter and Militant Children’s Hour play.
Christina Carter was just two people with electric guitars, both sang without using a microphone. Militant Children’s hour played a short set. A short set mainly because all of their songs around less than two minutes long and by their I mean his because it is a one-man band. He plays guitar, sings, and plays drums, all at the same time. He also wears a giraffe costume and covered his mouth in fake blood.
Our house has a history of diverse acts. The week before we had Andru Bemis play. He is a folk artist from Michigan that travels America on the train. He plays the banjo and guitar and sings and dresses as if William Howard Taft is still the president.
We’ve also had the famous Artis the Spoonman play our house. Artis was made famous by the Grammy award winning song by Soundgarden “Spoonman.” Artis played spoons in front of possibly a hundred abnormally quiet people on the stage of the Pirate Ship.
Jason Webley, an accordion player from Seattle played and after the show people told me for days it was the best show they had ever seen. A month afterward someone came up to me at the Coffee House and after hearing a Jason Webley song once, began humming the melody and asked me what album it was on so that he could buy it. He also said it was the best show he had ever seen.
And it is that type of response that makes people want to host house shows. People like Rick Ele, Mick Mucus, Radish, and myself know that people want to see the music not just hear it. There are bands all across the world that want to play it for people and so they’ll drive in a van all day just to stand in a living a play for gas money and free beer. The police may be just a phone call away, always ready and willing to be professional party poopers. But when there is an audience that is able to find a house and a band to play in front of them, no matter how hard the city or the police or the neighborhood may try to make the music illegal, its going to happen – that is until the police actually do show up and start writing noise violations.