When I heard that Port City Music Hall, in downtown Portland, had permanently closed, the wind was knocked out of me and I fell head first into a well of grief that quickly spread all over social media. From local musicians across many genres who have played there, to those who worked there, and all of us fans who have been to countless shows, there was a collective expression of sorrow and anguish interspersed with the sharing of memories about the venue.
I’ll also add in my own healthy dose of denial. Is this just the beginning? It’s been said repeatedly that live music was among the first things to cease in March, and it’s impossible to predict when, or worse, if it will ever be the same.
How many venues will be left standing? It’s unconscionable.
Port City Music Hall, with a capacity of about 550, first opened in 2009 and was purchased by the parent company that owns the State Theatre in 2013. That’s when Lauren Wayne, general manager of the State, took over. She had already been booking a few shows a month there, and once it was fully under her purview, that number increased to between 15 and 20 shows a month. She and her team had been absolutely crushing it with bookings, and we were fortunate to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
The venue is big but not too big, so you were never too far from the action happening on stage. Also, the sound system is fantastic, the staff was always welcoming, and they were never once out of Jameson. It was a transitional spot for bands that are too big to play the smaller listening rooms but may not draw a big enough crowd for the much larger State Theatre. This is why we’ve been treated to national acts as they were up and coming, like Maggie Rogers, Lucius, Father John Misty, Neko Case and Jason Isbell, all of whom went on to play at the State Theatre or Thompson’s Point. On the local front, Port City Music Hall has been an essential venue for the likes of Spose, Mallett Brothers Band, Rustic Overtones, Anna Lombard and The Ghost of Paul Revere, among others.
I long lost track of how many shows I’ve seen there since 2009, but it’s a lot. From many of Kenya Hall’s Stevie Wonder nights to Anna Lombard’s album release show (and that famous moment when the fire alarm next door at Binga’s caused a half-hour evacuation in the middle of the show), to national acts like Kathleen Edwards, Tank and the Bangas, Lucius, The English Beat, Margo Price, Rachael Yamagata, Cigarettes After Sex, Maggie Rogers, Rachael & Vilray, Juliette Lewis, Billy Bragg, Aimee Mann and so many others, the place has often felt like a second home to me. I had my two favorite spots to stand – either right up front or to the right of the stage by the wall. I’ve never seen a show there where I didn’t run into friends and acquaintances. And I’ve rarely left feeling anything less than completely satisfied. I’ve also been fortunate to stand on that stage as host of Maine Academy of Modern Rock’s Girls Rock showcases. It’s not just a building. It’s a gathering place.
As hard as this is for me, I feel so much worse for others more directly affected. When venues close, it causes a seismic shift in the very foundation of live music. For sound technicians, tour managers, bands, promoters, venue staff, publicists and everyone else in the live music industry, their entire worlds, not to mention livelihoods, have been turned upside-down. They don’t get to do what they love. And we don’t get to be on the receiving end of that love, having the time of our lives at a packed show, waiting for the headliner to come on with a bunch of friends while debating which T-shirt to buy on the way out and guessing which song the band will open with.
The Save our Stages Act, the Restart Act and the Encores Act (or some version of them) are bills that Congress had better get passed so that there isn’t a domino effect across the country. I’ve been signing petitions, emailing senators and doing my best to support venues, and I urge you to do the same. I don’t ever want to take a walk up and down Congress and some of its surrounding streets in Portland (not to mention the rest of the state) to find music venues – small and large – boarded up with “For Lease” signs in their windows.
Is this it? Is this the real end of Port City Music Hall? We can only hope for the passage of one or more relief packages soon.
Some may view live music as a luxury. But for those of us who consider it to be a favorite way to enjoy, appreciate, participate in and be moved by art, it’s anything but.
Thank you, Port City Music Hall. Thank you. You will never be forgotten, and I sure hope to hear the beep of my ticket being scanned after I’ve arrived for yet another epic night of live music.
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