Does anyone remember The Tardis Room? On Killingsworth? I don’t mind talking shit ’cause it’s permanently closed. The Tardis Room was never the name of an actual establishment, it was the name of a room in an establishment called The Fish And Chip Shop—literally, a room whose square footage was mostly occupied by large, wooden tables. There was an actual raised stage, but it took up half the room. Despite the neat, sci-fi vibe and good food, the space didn’t really scream "live music spot" at first glance. Maybe for a slam poetry evening or a sad-boy, acoustic singer-songwriter showcase, but nothing much bigger and louder than that. Moreso, such a small, intimate space with a deep fryer sizzling in the next room didn’t seem like it warranted a salaried booker who lived in another state—putting together ten-band bills and sending them each a multi-page confirmation email for shows. I’m not just picking on The Tardis Room (Rest In Power). This is a trend I’ve noticed in Portland—taking cramped, awkwardly small spaces and rebranding them as a trendy, live music space. More of an "art" space? Bookstores are one of the oddest choices since most folks usually associate those spots with peace and quiet. One of my all-time favorite "why the fuck is this a venue?" spots was the Burgerville on Hawthorne. Woe to the stumbling drunks who wandered in on a Friday night just to satiate their strikeout drunchies.
If you squint, it makes sense. One of the biggest bummers of the local music scene is people not showing up. If you can’t get more people to come, the next best thing is to make the space smaller so the venue "looks" packed. Is this the NPR tiny desk concerts’ fault? If you’re cultivating an "intimate" vibe, the drumset that’s pressing up against the front row’s noses doesn’t exactly facilitate that. I used to think that Portland’s biggest issue was too many bands, but maybe the real problem is too many venues. The demand is not there since ill-attended local shows have become a meme at this point. Is this yet another example of the criminally under-regulated free market allowing for a hyper saturation of products we don’t need, simply because everyone wants to be a "small business owner?" Maybe. I mean, who really has a small pile of money and means and says, "You know what this town reeeeeally needs is another small, quirky music venue." Yes, I get it; the idea of starting a band there is equally unnecessary. Or doing anything artistic. See, the cat who opened up the semi-legal psychedelic mushroom shop (Rest In Power). Now there’s a unique, new idea for an untapped market!
But I’m not here to solve problems; I’m here to make jokes—edgelords who go against trends just because, are the definition of cringe. We can’t stop cute little capitalists from wanting their wafer-thin sliver of the ever-shrinking pie. So here are some ideas for Portland’s next "why the fuck is this a venue" venue.
You’ve heard of music in the park. What about music in the tiniest park in the world!? Feasibility be damned. Since everything in the arts has just devolved into an attention-grabbing gimmick, might as well go for broke. The arbitrary-to-the-point-of-pointlessness of having a "word’s smallest park" should be taken to task as to whether or not it can actually be considered a park. In order for it to be considered a park and not just a circle of dirt, you have to be able to do some classic park thing "in" said park. Whether it’s Shakespeare, a playground, or a mediocre cover band, I will leave it to ambitious, trendy promoters to figure out how to do this. Maybe every band member has a foot in the circle? A phone displaying said band placed against the little tree in there? I dunno. It’s a stupid idea for a stupid park.
Similarly to how many tiny little bars think they can just scale down the experience of a live band to a smaller setting, I am confident that one of the smaller and less successful strip club owners is one line of cocaine away from trying to do the Dante’s thing, but on a smaller scale. Now, Dante’s works as a venue cause it has A) a large stage and B) a removable pole. Also, all the proper staffing and equipment to host live music. Still, I imagine some desperate or delusional club owner could look at their tiny corner stage of their little flesh house past 82nd Avenue and just figure, "Look, that’s a stage. It’ll work." It won’t, especially if they can’t move the pole. But I’m here for it, and I’ll go see a show there ’cause I’m all for watching dumpster fires.
Someone once told me you could see shows at Pioneer Square from the outdoor patio of Departure, the swanky bar atop The Nines—kitty-corner from said square. You can’t. You’re way too high up, and all the reverberation amongst the tall buildings just gives you the vague impression that some noise is being made down there. However, the time I was stupid enough to try this, I realized that maybe Departure could capitalize on the nice view of the city with a loud rock band to interrupt patrons’ expensive cocktails. I’ve seen bands in more inappropriate spaces.
Possibly the only serious entry in this listicle. Yamhill Pub is perhaps the divey-est bar in Portland, in the traditional sense of the word. There are definitely dirtier bars, more local bars, etc. But if you look up "dive bar" in a normie dictionary, you’ll see a picture of Yamhill Pub. At one point, their restroom not only had no lock on the door, but they didn’t even have a toilet. Just a hole in the ground that I assume led to some sort of sewer system. There is literally no place to put a band in this bar, and that’s why I absolutely want to see it happen. Hell, they can just put the band in the bathroom. Just rip off the "door" and tear the toilet out again. Put a plank down. Make this the place where touring crust punk bands play in Portland. Don’t just play in the basement of some punk squat. Play at Downtown Portland’s most iconic dive bar instead! A PA System? Bah! That’s for rich posers! Use this megaphone instead!
