Feature | Far East in the City * QUEENING OVER IT BROOKLYN <strong>The</strong> Rise of <strong>Queens</strong> As <strong>The</strong> New Home of <strong>The</strong> NYC Music Scene By Connor McInerney and Sara Nuta / Illustration by Astrid Terrazas 14 the deli Winter <strong>2019</strong> *queen it <strong>over</strong> (one) To act in a way that shows one’s arrogance; to behave as if one is superior than someone else. Example: “OK, yes, you beat me—now quit queening it <strong>over</strong> me.” (Source: <strong>The</strong>FreeDictionary.com)
Housing <strong>The</strong> Struggle It’s impossible to discuss the New York City music scene without addressing the “900 dollars a month excluding utilities” elephant in the room: rent. At the crux of any environment in which young, broke musicians will thrive is the question of how they will afford to live there, and it’s a problem that NYC is notorious for, given the ever-increasing cost of living expenses for anybody who call the city home. Tangentially, when examining the city’s “It” neighborhoods throughout the years — the areas endowed with the ephemeral “cool factor” brought by the presence of artists — a pattern of eastward migration emerges, one coherent with the direction of NYC’s gentrification <strong>over</strong> the last fifty years. As the city’s scene expands eastwards, as creative types settle into cramped three-bedroom Bushwick apartments en masse, the last bastion in <strong>Brooklyn</strong> appears on the precipice of full “artist-ification.” It makes sense why musicians, venue owners, and scenesters have begun looking eastwards, towards the inevitable jump to the Borough of <strong>Queens</strong>. Looking at the context of New York’s alternative scene since the 1960s helps illuminate why <strong>Queens</strong> is the heir apparent. <strong>The</strong> genesis of counterculture in Greenwich Village, its folksy cafe society of guitar-strapped drifters, the ilks of which included Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel, provided a workable modus operandi that informs underground and DIY music in the city today; all that was necessary to host performances by up and coming musicians was a few microphones and a space that’s willing to open its doors to their admirers. Over time, such soundscapes inevitably became electric and the venues changed, moving towards the East River and into dives like CBGB and Max’s Kansas City, both of which played host to bands like <strong>The</strong> Velvet Underground, Ramones, and Talking Heads, purveyors of a distinct New York soundscape that was increasingly becoming darker, “weirder,” and more electronic. <strong>The</strong> next big transformation in alternative locale, however, wouldn’t occur until the early aughts, when the Lower East Side became the scene’s new “hot spot.” That, in tandem with the meteoric rise of then-young indie groups like <strong>The</strong> Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, TV on the Radio and Interpol, would anoint now-established performance spaces like the Bowery Ballroom, Mercury Lounge, Arlene’s Grocery and Pianos. As the LES thrived, concurrent development in the now-gentrifying <strong>Brooklyn</strong> would eventually push artists, bookers, and venue owners <strong>over</strong> the river, forming the basis of the two-borough New York scene we see today. A Tougher Enviromnent for DIY New York scenesters have developed some kind of refrain that’s reiterated when discussing (read: lamenting) a venue that’s on its way out: that when one space shuts down, another will inevitably pop up. We have come to accept that this reincarnation cycle will take shape in converted warehouses, multi-purpose spaces, and shabby bar/venue hybrids. But <strong>Brooklyn</strong>’s nightlife scene has faced heavy blows in the last few years. A combination of rising rents, creative leadership differences, and stringent building code restrictions have spurred a(nother) wave of closures. Within the last few years, <strong>Brooklyn</strong>’s had to say goodbye to DIY heavyweights like <strong>The</strong> Silent Barn, Shea Stadium, Palisades, and Aviv, among others that filled the void left behind by 285 Kent, Glasslands and Death By Audio’s closure. Most recently, the underground <strong>Brooklyn</strong> club and anchor of <strong>Brooklyn</strong>’s techno scene, Output, announced that they would shut its doors come the new year. This comes just weeks after <strong>The</strong> Dreamhouse and <strong>The</strong> Gateway announced similar outcomes. <strong>The</strong>se setbacks may stem from serious concerns surrounding illegal DIY spaces, especially in the wake of the 2016 Ghost Ship fire in Oakland, a tragic occurrence that claimed the lives of 36 people attending a house show at the artist collective space. While concerns surrounding fire safety and building codes are legitimate, many venues have faced disproportionate scrutiny from legislation surrounding nightlife (like the cabaret laws, which until recently banned dancing in venues) and city taskforces, such as the NYPD’s M.A.R.C.H. Taskforce, which targets community hotspots (as outlined by Liz Pelly in her piece in the Baffler, “Cut <strong>The</strong> Music”). the deli Winter <strong>2019</strong> 15
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