Two beloved music venues are calling it quits very soon: The Amnesia in San Francisco, and Armando’s in Martinez. Both venues have presented a TON of music over the years, and I have
great memories playing both places. Both were unique and funky – I feel blessed to have trod those stages.
Armando’s is closing due to rising rent – I don’t know why Amnesia is closing. Every business has a life span, though. They may rise again, somewhere else in town – I hope so!
In Martinez, at least, the news of Armando’s closing has brought an outpouring of affection the club, for providing so much joy to the community over the past 14+ years. It’s also brought a smattering of vitriol from musicians who felt denied the chance to play there, and feel sure that if only they had been allowed to play there, the place would not be closing.
The opportunities for someone to feel ill-used are threefold here.
One, musicians often think they’re entitled to play anyplace they want, and often bemoan the low pay when they do get a gig.
Secondly, the proprietors of venues struggle to balance what is fair pay for the artists without paying more than the artists bring in.
Finally, the landlords feel they have the right to try and collect rent they feel is commensurate with other establishments in their area.
I’ve never been a landlord, and at this point, it appears I never will be. I do know they come in all varieties – some are wealthy people who own a lot of properties and have no emotional connection to any of the properties, nor their tenants. It’s easy to consider them villains. On the other hand, many of them managed to scrape up enough money to invest in a building, hoping it will pay off, and find themselves either barely scraping by, or actually losing money.
Music venues (especially small ones) quite often do not make much money. They represent a labor of love on the part of the business owner, who revels in having a place where artists can play for patrons, and perhaps – just perhaps, the cover charge and bar sales will cover rent, insurance, the cost of talent, the sound guy, marketing and leave enough over to maintain a resident and eat regular meals. For a small place, the math rarely adds up.
Of course, musicians are rarely compensated what they’re really worth, or what they think they’re worth. The pay, the competition for stage time, the time practicing, rehearsing, and marketing, the cost of gear and supplies – it’s a losing proposition for 99% of them.
So, from any of these three sides, it can be a struggle. But I still like playing in public, and I enjoy helping venues in their efforts to provide arts for the community and survive the experience. Most of us give too much, but the struggle is interesting, and I’m not giving up yet.
Long live Amnesia! Long live Armando’s!
