Why was the stage at Little Brother’s so damn high?
We didn’t set out to have a four-foot high stage. We had designed it at 3’4″ to accommodate some really big bass cabinets without those monsters touching the stage-top’s bottom and causing sound-reinforcement nightmares. But the fire inspector said we needed a foot between the cabs and the stage. We reminded him that the wires were passive, but he insisted that the code said there had to be one foot between them, so we complied.
Now, the down side was that the performers were farther away, thus shows felt less intimate. But on the nights that we sold lots of tickets, you could see from way in the back. And man, did it cut down on stage diving.
And the top question I find myself asked everywhere I go is… “Why were you on Judge Judy?”
Actually, it’s “why did you close?”*
I believe that the end began with my intent to sell Little Brother’s to two serious, fun-loving music fans from out of town. One guy had worked for an agency and been a live music promoter in college. The other had been a touring musician that played Little Brother’s with a band that was popular on CD101.
I personally felt out of gas, trying to keep up with crowds half my age that were interested in music I only half cared about. I often said “I’ve seen this movie before and I liked it better the first two times.” I didn’t dislike the the bands or the kids coming to shows, I just didn’t love them the way I had before.
These buyers had the love, desire, enthusiasm, and just enough money to seal the deal. Although a purchase agreement was drawn up by my attorney in fall of 2006, it was contingent on them being able to buy the building too.
My personal Simon Legree – the Short North landlord that owned the building (having purchased it three years into my tenantcy) – began the so-called “negotiation” thusly: “you buy this and the next buil
ding for $x,000,000 and we have a deal.” They were so put off by the man’s arrogance that they dropped the deal and ended up buying an old theater in Madison,Wisconsin. Back to my reality I went.
I found myself without a lease, a constantly changing market and less desire than ever to do my job. I negotiated a new one that would have increased my rent 15 percent over three years and was told that the paperwork would be sent. Weeks passed without a word. I never spoke to or heard from him again.
I was contacted by his attorney, the kind that makes people tell lawyer jokes, but he wasn’t funny and he sure wasn’t joking. He told me smugly how much he loved “women’s music” (foreshadowing the lesbian business they were lining up to take over the room?) and asked if I would leave peacefully or if they would have to throw me out. He asked me for back rent, though I didn’t owe back rent, only taxes and insurance on the property, which we’d struggled to pay every year since the landlord took over the building and added it to our expenses, but we’d always caught up on them as soon as we were able.
It has been good to have a break for the last couple of years and to have plenty of time to spend time with my son, away from the double insanity of the bar and music business. Perhaps I should thank the man. On second thought, maybe not.
Any more questions?
* We also released a lot of details about this situation in 2007 and 2008 at littlebrothers.com if you’re interested in more of the back story.