Shutting down venues for live music robs a city of character.
The closing down of an institution not only marks the end of an era, but it can be particularly sad and frustrating when circumstances beyond anyone’s control have forced those doors shut. Last week, in Melbourne, Australia’s unofficial cultural capital, the Tote Hotel was an unfortunate victim of such a circumstance. What could be mistaken for a traditional corner pub was actually a hotbed for musical activity, well-known for its support of emerging and independent Australian and international artistes for the last 30 years. Despite its small 320-people capacity, White Stripes played there as did almost every other significant and lesser known Australian artiste over the years. But after a lengthy struggle, the licensees finally had to give in to drastic liquor licensing laws that labelled the venue a “high risk” club, i.e., there was a great possibility of the venue’s inebriated patrons being a public nuisance. But despite Tote’s squeaky clean police record and its reputation as an incident-free and peaceful music venue, this labelling required new security measures like CCTV cameras and a minimum of two security guards in addition to increased liquor licensing fees, all of which led to the ill-fated decision to close its doors. Not surprisingly, the news of Tote’s closing attracted a strong reaction from the public. A protest involving 5,000 people took place outside Tote and was followed by one final goodbye show. But while there is word that the Tote may be re-opening under new management, the question is why did it had to come to this in the first place? It is a fact that the Tote was not a threat at all and was a responsible curator of Australia’s music culture.
Having grown up in Mumbai, the issue of a disadvantaged live music scene resonates loud and clear in my mind. I had to wait till I visited Australia to get a taste of a cultivated live music culture. The lack of live music when I was growing up now seems almost unbelievable. We had to wait for shows like Independence Rock and college festivals to get a taste of live music. And while we waited, there were plenty of classical and traditional music concerts which was a good thing, but why it has never been the same for popular music — western or Indian is a question I still ask. One answer could be the strangulating loopholes that well-intentioned people have to navigate and the endless “permissions” that are required to organise a music show. Second, the licensing costs to run a club in a city like Mumbai are simply astronomical, making Bollywood DJ’s a surer bet for club management. While this might be over-simplifying the situation, it certainly has nothing to do with a lack of music talent or musical initiative. And while the live music situation is looking positive today we can only hope that the politicians that be recognise the importance of live music and don’t muffle it out.
(Craig Fernandes is a Melbourne-based writer)