Brian Liddy

Among many burned out socialites roaming the streets of Rutgers University, there is a collective of musicians aspiring to be heard. Throwing away any and all ulterior motives or marketing ploys, these musicians are the very definition of raw talent. The shows of these musicians do not take place within the confines of a soundboard and stage, strung up with colorful lights. Instead, these performances take place in run down, sweaty basements of New Brunswick, New Jersey, mere blocks away from campus.

                        
A majority of these basement shows are strictly word of mouth so the houses and their addresses are not put into print due to local noise curfew and fire code safety. With depletion in New Brunswick venues and art galleries, these shows are almost forced into the cramped basements in order to preserve local as well as touring acts.

When a touring band does enter the Brunswick-basement realm, it is usually the only time in which a cover charge will be present at the doors. The problem with this is that many people who are unfamiliar with the concept do not agree with giving donations to a band in which they are unaware of. This is a reason why resident bands acquiring popularity and bringing people out to the shows is vital for these touring artists since they are generally in need of food, shelter, or gas money.

As this passing lifestyle may not seem like a glamorous one, music lovers cannot deny the sheer intimacy of a noisy basement.

“The experience for the performer and for the audience is more personal,” says Patrick Duffy of local acts County Drop and Sonofabitch. “There is less pressure to ‘draw’ a crowd or sell tickets and allows the artist to focus solely on their music. Basement shows are laid-back while many ‘venue’ shows can be awkward at times.”

Another conquest facing these bands is the entire notion of getting people to come out to the shows. Since the general demographic is individuals in their early twenties, many of the pending guests are stubborn about trying something different. There is, however, increasing groups of regulars who follow particular bands such as native musician Frank DeFranco. His favorite retired local band was Ex-Wife because “They were a band that when they played, the songs really hit you hard where it matters.”

Filling these basements is much more difficult than one could ever imagine and it does seem as if young people would rather spend their free time at home at their desks than taking a chance on one of these shows. This is why physical promotion is so important. When it comes to advertising to the public Reed Adler of The Nico Blues explains “The best way, honestly, is just to force them out to one show. Then they’ll see how great the community and music are, and I don’t think you’ll have to do any more ‘forcing’.”

Although at first, many basement dwellers may only show up because of nothing better to do or rumors of free alcohol, their attendance alone is enough to benefit this cause. The entire concept of bringing together original music and creativity is something to be appreciated or at the very least, observed. Joe Lanza of the East Brunswick-based band Holy City Zoo also acknowledges this atmosphere.

“People can meet and connect on their own terms, and form a bond of communication that can lead to a healthy growth of a music scene,” Lanza states.

New Brunswick alone has been home to many bands who have now toured all over the globe since departing from the underground. Some of these artists include The Bouncing Souls, Midtown and Thursday. So it does stand to reason that 5 dollars spent on a keg of cheap beer and a formulated evening could instead be used to support your friendly neighborhood instrumentalists.

Brian Liddy