Venue Stories: Narratives, Memories, and Histories from Britain’s Independent Music Spaces

Fraser Mann, Robert Edgar and Helen Pleasance (eds.)
Sheffield: Equinox Publishing, 2023.
ISBN: 9781800504431 (hardcover), 9781800503731 (paperback)
RRP: US$100.00 (hardcover), US$32.00 (paperback)

Max Gibson

University of California, Davis (USA)

Drawing together a chorus of individual voices, Venue Stories is a dynamic collection of creative non-fiction entries that speak on music, place, experience and community across British independent music scenes in the 20th and 21st century. In their curation of the chapters, editors Mann, Edgar and Pleasance state that their mission was to “bring stories and remembrances together, add shape to them and develop a scholarly understanding of how we can offer an alternative mode of historiography through editorial processes that are akin to the role of the museum curator” (2). Conceived and developed during the COVID-19 pandemic, this is not the usual collection of formal academic essays, but instead a radical attempt at shining light on histories that are usually ignored, marginal or not considered serious enough; Venue Stories acts as a site of resistance to erasure through the creation of an archive of stories not usually told.

Utilizing autoethnography, journalism, historiography, essaying, interview and most importantly memoir, the authors create multiple narratives of hidden microhistories. Creative non-fiction as a genre is increasingly common within academia, yet rarely does a collection come together like this that achieves its mission of illuminating histories through a multiplicity of voices, rather than the usual single-authored narrative. This approach is apparent when examining the variety of people in this collection beyond the familiar academic researcher: band members, DJs, producers, journalists, bartenders, photographers and more. Each contribute their lived experiences and perspectives, and having an eclectic roster makes for an enjoyable read. The shifts in writing styles take the reader from the depths of despair—over half the chapters end with the closure of cherished venues—to uncontrollable laughter—who would have thought the destruction of a bass guitar could be so funny? (69–77). Yet this emotional journey is never at the expense of intention of the book. Each account reveals a microcosm within a broader community, scene and history, where musical worlds are lived, embodied and reenacted through memory, and then relived through writing; the act of memory writing affords the network of microhistories to be acknowledged and remembered and serves as a way of expressing personal experience and embodied knowledge within larger structures. Memory writing thus becomes an analytical methodology.

Venue Stories contributes a great deal to the regional histories of music scenes and venues in the areas of Birmingham, Leicester, Liverpool and London. Places such as Brighton, Glasgow, Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Teesside, York and the North of England are also represented. Each entry acts as a scratching of the surface of histories that have yet to be written, and thus could lead way to a book of each region or venue in question.

Many chapters engage with a single venue, most of which are on the toilet circuit. Robert Edgar theorizes on the concept of the toilet venue, arguing that they affectionately received their name from the bands and audiences who would come together as a community in seedy spaces full of mythic history (40–50). Some of the mythic venues included here are The Charlotte, Eric’s, and The Bull and Gate.

Other authors, instead look inward, and focus on journeys of discovery, coming-of-age and personal troubles through their venue experiences. Especially important is how these authors grapple with the politics of access and inclusion, particularly that of safety and economic parity. Gender politics are prevalent in Penelope Wickson’s experience in the 1990s Birmingham jungle scene where she describes a masculinist environment rife with sexism and inappropriate behaviour toward female participants (162–174); Vim Renault and Lene Cortina, of Punkgirldiaries, outline their experiences as female band members in the world of punk, a global phenomenon famous for breaking with traditional norms, which afforded them opportunities usually unusual for women (78–87); and Polly Hancock’s memoir reveals promotional sexism during the HYPE indie night at the Bull and Gate, London (60–68). Economic politics are present in Anna Maria Barry’s contribution who explicitly points out that working-class talent is underrepresented across the creative industries, not just in live music (124–134). Ed Garland’s account of sitting on a bench in Leicester’s The Charlotte venue introduces the reader to the perspective and experience of music in venues from a position of sitting rather than standing and points to the rarely addressed issue of physical accessibility in live music venues (145–152).

Myriad genres and scenes are represented through Venue Stories, including heavy metal, hard rock, Britpop, as well as indie and underground musics. Whether a product of living musical memory or simply due to its global influence, the genre with the most references is punk and its cousins. Punk memories act as the main undertow that bring venues to life. While not intentional, the narratives of Venue Stories, emphasize live music performed by bands; stories concerning electronic dance music and DJs, however, do make up a small number of chapters. A striking entry is Thomas Jackson’s chapter on his Punk-Rock DJ Dad, whose experience as a working-class industrial worker-turned DJ illuminates the not-yet-told activities and histories of venues, towns and regions alike (238–247).

A standout feature of Venue Stories is the ubiquity of musical materiality that is littered across nearly every entry; indeed, the editors point out that “[m]aterial culture, the imagination and the memory have equal weight in these contributions and how they are written” (16). Whether it is zines, instruments, seating, PA systems, badges, clothes or multitudinous memorabilia, objects are imbued with experiences and memories, and while they might not resonate like a venue, they are valuable for understanding how material culture fits into broader society, musics and histories. It would be wonderful to see these materials brought together in an exhibit that complements the book.

Those seeking applications of academic theory will find a selection of authors who situate their experiences and stories of venues within analytical frameworks­—Ed Garland’s application of Julian Henrique’s listening skin is masterful (148)—but readers should not expect it from every chapter. Simultaneously, some might question the reliability and rigor of memory writing; the very act of working from memory elicits the possibility of inaccuracies. Yet this is to miss the point of the book. Many authors acknowledge the fallibility of memory as a caveat to their narratives and some even go out of their way to work with archival documents to crosscheck specific dates and performances—Pleasance’s Postscript One, is humorously enlightening (28).

Rich in content and histories, the many individual narratives in Venue Stories are woven together and offer a model for those working through creative non-fiction as a methodology for writing histories pertaining to music, place and experience. The hidden microhistories of individuals represent larger structures of culture and community and are afforded agency to speak; the very nature of this book is radically effective.