A GEM of a Music Venue

So I walk into this place, and I have a look around.  Technically, it's an "arts" studio.  Now who the fuck knows what that term means these days?  And when you are headed to an arts studio in order to see a band, well then things become even more muddled.  I see people walking around with bottles of beer.  And I'm not talking Bud Lights.  I'm talking real beer.  Heady beer.  Whatever.  The fact that there are alcoholic beverages present is a welcomed development.

Okay, so how do I get my hands wrapped around one of them?

Hey man, where'd you get that beer?

My cooler.

Ahm... What?

You can...

You mean...

I gotta get to the fucking liquor store.

Oh my goodness.  THIS PLACE IS BYOFB?!?

So, I head to the liquor store, pick up two 6-packs admirably representing the Fall season in which I find myself, load up a newly purchased CFC cooler, and bomb back to the venue in order to avoid missing the opening song.  Yet, in my haste, I damn near miss a stop sign, forcing me to slam on the breaks, and cooler; beer, ice, and all, topples over onto the floor of my backseat.

It's okay!

Sure, the cooler cracked in half, but it's a cool night and we can make this work.

And then it's up two, windy flights of stairs, through the gallery that awaits atop the landing (pictured above), and passed the ticket table.  But this time, with beer in hand!

Now the whole venue is supremely unimpressive at first.  It's a lot like being in an empty church.  Wait, is the modifier even needed in that previous sentence?  I didn't think so.  So, it's a lot like being in a church.  The ceiling is vaulted, the wooden floor creeky, and well, the pews that surround the stage and stretch the length of the converted mill are a bit on the nose.  No stained glass, but the windows are large and old, making for a rather drafty experience.  The bathrooms are separated by a small partition.  A large, deep painters sink rests outside a dark and moist "business" area, where pipes seem to protrude from every wall and floor ensuring that the user understands exactly which direction their deposit will be traveling.

Heading back around the corner toward the stage, pictures of previous performers and a variety of paintings/sketches speckle the walls, in between the 3 studios and the "backstage" office which divides the talent from the audience.

Indeed, backstage is actually at the very back of the auditorium, meaning that the band must travel, in some form or another, through the audience in order to take the stage.  This aspect alone informs the attendee that they are witnessing a show unlike any other.  For this places the table for something much more personal than any show that takes place at a club, hall, or local dive bar.  The bands, instead of feeling hemmed in by the crowd, appear to be much more relaxed in this environment, freely allowing themselves to banter with the audience throughout the course of the evening, auditioning new original tunes or cover songs, and more often than not.

All the while, the audience is open and responsive to all of this.  Sure, the BYOB should encourage some kind of excess, correct?  Afraid not.  For it is something about the environment cultivated by this musical anomaly that gives way to an eternally respectful collection of people, that while reserved in appearance, is warmly receptive to all that the musical guests thrust upon them.

Besides, it's not uncommon to see children and even grandparents at this place.  And because it ain't no backyard family reunion, the asshole uncle isn't there to swill six too many Hamm's before passing out all too close to the fire pit.

And how about the variety?  Bluegrass, jazz, progressive rock, blues, soul, gospel, indie rock, jambands, folk, zydeco, and country performances have all taken place in the shadows of the Braga Bridge.  Performers such as Adrian Belew, the Low Anthem, Tony Rice, Dicky Betts, The Wood Brothers, Beausoleil, Los Straitjackets, Sarah Borges, Jonathon Richman, Leo Kottke, Los Lobos.  I mean, the only thing that's missing is a visit from Dave Grisman, and lookie here, he's coming in February of 2010.

So for anyone that lives in New England, or even anywhere near New England, then you need to get down to Fall River, MA and check out the most unique venue in the region (apologies to the Stone Church).  And if you don't live in the area, well then all I can say is that you're missing out.  But regardless, should you ever have the opportunity or be so inclined, then a nice, drafty, creeky, curious slice of heaven is waiting for you on the 3rd floor of 16 Anawan Street.

The Narrows

(ps. There is now an elevator and the bathrooms have been remodeled, yet the charm is still intact).