The Birth of A Scene

At noon on June 3, a rally cry was posted on the alt.music.chapel-hill newsgroup:

3ok folks, i hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you need to know this and we have some work to do immediately.

3on the way home we swung into radio free records parking lotSthe back gate was locked and ethan was sitting on the front stoop. he said they were closed today. i asked if it was just too hot. he responded that the store had been robbedS.

3radio free, one of the best record stores to ever grace this state, is virtually wiped out. there is no insurance.2

Amid the flurry of activity that immediately followed, the irony of this note was lost: It was posted to the bulletin board for Chapel Hill, but the store and the majority of the people who responded to it reside in Durham. This is a town that, two years back, could not boast a single venue for live shows. But tragedy brings out the best in a community; in this case, it galvanized a music scene that had only just begun to take form.

Three years ago, Ethan Samsky moved here from San Jose, Calif. along with his wife Monica, his friend and employee David Massung, and his dedication to independent music sales. Ethan is almost wistfully quiet; David (stage name: Viva) has 3scenester2 written all over him in vintage clothes and mod-ish hair. It1s likely you1ll see him out at any given Durham happening<if not in the crowd then onstage, as either DJ or guitarist for his band, Jett Rink.

If you were to switch the boss and employee around, Radio Free Records, located on 2803 Hillsborough Rd., would have appeared uncannily like John Cusack1s Championship Vinyl in High Fidelity<without Jack Black1s aggressive, imperious elitism, of course. Even a die-hard would have trouble keeping abreast with Radio Free1s extensive catalog, but the store1s atmosphere itself was never intimidating. It had the kind of local business intimacy only possible in a place where you enter through the back porch.

But the young store hadn1t yet stabilized itself in the difficult world of independent music retail. There was neither an alarm nor theft insurance. The June 3 break-in took out the store1s stereo system and cash register; easily unloadable box sets were curiously left untouched, but gone were the punk/hardcore vinyl section and the storage bins holding about 85-percent of the CD stock (everything from 3B2 to 3S2). The CDs were kept separate from their cases and are therefore virtually impossible to turn around in a bulk sale, suggesting that this was no typical quick-fix burglary.

3It always had the makings of a great rock community. The potential was totally there,2 says Jenn Duerr, who moved here a few years ago with her husband and a group of friends and musicians largely for that very reason. Duerr is a founding member of the Durham Association for Downtown Arts, an artistic grassroots movement that has made great headway in reinvigorating the area, especially in music.

According to Duerr, there are a few vital elements found in any good music scene. Durham certainly covers some of her criteria with a deep pool of creativity and talent, and WXDU as a reliable information source. With the addition of Radio Free Records, there was finally a place for local and touring bands to promote themselves directly to a potential audience. In the meantime, there was even an industry presence: Mr. Lady (the label of femme punk acts such as the Butchies and Le Tigre) is based here, and Merge, the 3quintessential Chapel Hill label,2 relocated downtown just last June. The resources were there, although there was little to do with them.

The vacuum filled up suddenly. Duerr began booking shows for the downtown club Ringside last November. DADA-promoted Durham band showcases held there were modest successes. With fortunate prescience, the owners of Bully1s Basement refurbished their club to accommodate live acts. Perhaps it was fate, but the owners of Bully1s already had a grand opening party planned for the weekend after the Radio Free robbery.

It was built, and then they came. Duerr observes that just before and especially since the robbery, gigs and attendance blossomed.

3Bands that were kind of formed or loosely formed are more solidified; bands that were broken up have gotten back together; lots of people are starting to see a real supportive group.2 The crowds that these first shows saw were a loose mix of avid, eclectic music fans and locals who just turned up out of curiosity. Despite its infancy, the scene is remarkably interconnected, with several musicians playing in two or even three bands at a time. You can see something different about four nights a week in Durham.

The Radio Free benefit at Bully1s Basement that Saturday night was packed and wired with an excitement that came from pride as much as it did good-will to Radio Free. The roster of bands was eight deep (as it was the night before), and auctions ran in between sets<with limited edition CDs and signed posters, local businesses1 merchandise, Superchunk1s bassist1s Doc Martens and a personalized song to be written and performed by local femme glammers, Roxotica.

Lora Brooker, Trinity 192, books shows for the Basement and was on hand that evening. Thrilled with the potential of a scene she1s actively shaping, she gushes, 3Durham is so wide open and brand new that it seems warmS. You have all these people who bring in new ideas as to what it should be like and that it should be inclusive and you should be enthusiastic and support your community instead of being disaffected and sort of Otoo cool for school.1 3

The Durham music renaissance is certainly a boon to Duke students<if, of course, they take advantage of it. Duerr observes that 3the town and gown split2 between Duke and Durham may simply keep event information from getting to students. In any case, there has been no observable dip in attendance over the summer. But both she and Brooker expect the Basement and Ringside to draw increasing amounts of students as word gets out in the fall.

Duke students can also drop in to help out and freshen up their CD collection (at least, of bands named between 3T2 and 3Z2) at Radio Free, which reopened July 12. From a business perspective, it is perhaps a bit premature. The combined efforts of the community amounted to a grand total of almost $8,000. Although it1s a whopping amount, Radio Free is down about fifty-grand. But Ethan says the community1s response has bolstered him<enough so that he reopened the store much earlier than anticipated.

Viva, whose band played the night after the reopening on a triple Durham-band bill, stacked the remaining CDs his first day back at work. The shelves were half-empty by the time he was done, but he was thrilled to be working for Ethan again.

3It1s a wonderful feeling to be a part of something so much bigger than just you,2 he says.