Sonic Youth - Apr. 7, 1995 - Barristers
photos by Chris Walker & unknown
For the uninitiated, Barristers was a lawyer bar that had moved from one side of the Memphis downtown courthouse block to an office building at 147 Jefferson Ave. with 2 entrances/exits: 1) Inside the office building 2) An alley that runs north and south, now known as Maggie H. Isabel St. Heading south from the above picture will take you directly to The Peabody Hotel and The Rendezvous. It was hard to find and I’ve heard from many that was part of the charm. Supposedly, Jerry Lee Lewis owned this hole in the wall in the 70’s (if anyone can verify that, please do).
The place was owned by a redneck couple, Cindy and Ray, before I took over. They kept the bills paid with gambling poker machines played by about 3 lawyers. When the lawyers started showing up less and less, they started booking bands. The only thing I recall about my first visit to the place in 1993, to see instrumental surf rock band, Impala, is how much I loved it.
Barristers had excellent acoustics. Lotta wood paneling, weird angles, a high, soft, porous ceiling, and old, brown, beer stained, turf carpet. A room full of people didn’t hurt either. I immediately approached Cindy to discuss doing some shows and she was delighted at the prospect.
Side note:
Also in 1993, the shot-in-Memphis Tom Cruise/John Grisham film “The Firm” came out. It was a huge deal at the time for Memphis. I knew that Tom Cruise ran down Maggie Isabel alley in the movie, so I pulled up the footage for this post.
You can see Barristers just past the door he runs into. At first, I thought he ran into Barristers itself, but after re-watches, it’s the Greek restaurant next door.
I booked a few shows with Cindy over the next 12 months. One was the GG Allin-less Murder Junkies with Jeff Clayton of the Antiseen on vocals. Other than Dino, the drummer, playing nude and Jeff cutting his head open, it was uneventful. It was at a Today Is The Day show I booked there where she told me (with a two day old shiner) that she was wanting to sell the place. You know how it turned out.
The first show of my tenure as the steward of Barristers was The Hentchmen1 and The Oblivians right after the Christmas of 1994. The show did well and there was some excitement within the scene about me taking over. I had booked several national acts around town at this point, not to mention I’d been attending the same shows as everyone else for the past 8 years. They knew I loved the music.
Shangri-La’s Memphis Flyer ad right after I took over Barristers
Dec. 29, 1994 - Oblivians/Hentchmen - My first night as owner of Barristers
When I took over at the beginning of 1995, the calendar was a mess. There were about 7 shows booked for the next 2 months and none of them were winners. The good thing about Cindy was she would book anybody, anytime. The bad thing about Cindy was she would book anybody, anytime and now I was left to handle the mess.
I took over at the worst time for a live rock club. In the winter, few bands tour and everyone is broke from the holidays. South By Southwest happens in March and that marks the beginning of rock show season. I used January and February as a chance to get settled in, learn the building, develop some standard operating procedures, honor Cindy’s remaining commitments, and start booking and promoting March. See the fruits of my labor below.
This is an old misprinted calendar that I doodled on from March 1995:
March was a good month and some people were starting to become regulars. The local musicians were taking notice too. The word travelling was I was easy to deal with and gave 100% of the door and free beer which was a more generous deal (possibly the most in town) than the competition not to mention those awesome acoustics2. April, May and June filled up quick.
One of those dates was April 7, 1995 and it was booked by local singer/songwriter Lorette Velvette. She had friends in a band from Berlin coming to America called Cuban Rebel Girls. The show was expected to get around 50-75 people and they were adult drinkers who had been in the scene since the early days of the Antenna club when Lorette played with Tav Falco. I don’t have a copy of the flyer but you can see it circled in this early photo below of John and I at Barristers:
If you’ll notice on the calendar above, Thursdays were “Cinema Au Gratin” hosted by local filmmaker and artist, Mike McCarthy. He’d show obscure exploitation films then talk about the history of what we saw. It was good for 10 to 30 people. The night of the phone call that made Memphis Music History came during the screening 24 hours before the Cuban Rebel Girls/Lorette Velvette show. I don’t remember what we were showing. There were 14 people watching some schlocky cinema when the phone rang.
It was Doug Easley. Doug’s studio was becoming nationally known due to the success of the records he recorded by The Grifters and Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and at that exact time, Sonic Youth were in town recording their record, Washing Machine, with Doug. I had known Doug since 1989 when he recorded our Cruel Injustice demo. The call went like this:
Doug: Chris, Doug Easley.
Me: Hi Doug.
Doug: You know I’m playing with Lorette tomorrow night.
Me: I did not. We’ll be happy to have you.
Doug: You know Sonic Youth is recording with me.
Me: I did know that.
Doug: Would you care if they came up and played a quick little set before our bands?
Me: You’re asking me if Sonic Youth can play my bar?
Doug: Yes.
Me: The answer is yes. Am I allowed to tell anyone?
Doug: Sure!
When something exceptionally awful or wonderful happens to me, my mind shifts into autopilot. It won’t let the horror or elation process and then it’s like I’m looking out of the windows (my eyes) of a small dark room (my head) with the only light being what I see and the left side of my brain takes over. What do I do now? How do I handle this? Who should I call? Is it ok to scream? How bout now? NOW?
Memory nuggets:
I don’t remember much after I hung up with Doug. I feel like I called my Memphis music writing friends at The Memphis Flyer and The Commercial Appeal. The phone started ringing 10 minutes later and did not cease until the show was over.
I could take the phone off the hook, say “Barristers” and someone would reply with “Is Sonic Youth really playing there tomorrow?” Then, without placing the receiver on the hook and just pressing down/releasing the switch and without it ringing, there would be another person there asking the same question.
On show day, I remember the alley being full of humans early. We got to the point where we had to unplug the phone. The place filled up fast. Everyone wanted to claim their spot for the late addition to the bill. Then Sonic Youth arrived…
I don’t know if Barristers ever got that full of human beings again. The Trained Crowd Manager© in me bristles when I think about how dangerously crowded it was. You’d think we made a mint in bar sales, and we did well, but not as well as we’d hoped. It was too crowded to get to the bar. About 20 minutes went by without selling one drink.
Either the next day or the day after that, I called The Antenna answering machine to see if they’d updated it in a conscious effort to avoid double booking similar bands or events. What I heard floored me. It started with the words spoken in a southern drawl I’d spent my teenage years hearing on a weekly basis:
“Thanks for calling The Antenna Club located at 1588 Madison Avenue…”.
Then, Mark McGehee, operator of The Antenna at the time, proceeded to rant on the venue’s outgoing phone message about how disappointed he was in Doug Easley and Davis McCain for taking Sonic Youth to Barristers instead of The Antenna. The only words I remember Mark saying after the greeting were: “Thanks a lot, guys, for taking Sonic Youth to Barristers…” then talked about loyalty issues (Davis ran sound at The Antenna for a while). The rant was 4 or 5 sentences long.
I felt terrible. I felt a lot of things, actually, but initially terrible. I understood how Mark’s feelings were hurt. Mine would be too, but it was nothing but happenstance. I feel like no matter where Doug was playing that night, he would’ve asked Sonic Youth to play with him. He just happened to be playing my place.
I’m glad I kept a lot of press clippings from those days. They’re not on the internet anywhere but here. The following week, The Memphis Flyer wrote this about the show:
When the word got out to booking agents around the country that Sonic Youth played Barristers, it became easier to get those guys to take my phone calls and trust me to book their bands.
A few months later, the phone at Barristers started to ring:
I answered: “Barristers…”
Caller: “Is it true that the Beastie Boys are playing there this week?”
Me: “What?!?”
Caller: “I heard the Beastie Boys are playing there this week.”
Me: “They are more than welcome to play here, but this is news to me.”
We ended up taking something like 20 calls over a 2 day period about that. We finally started saying “Yes, they’re playing here. Bring your money.”
Barristers physically doesn’t exist anymore. Like the many drunken patrons that came before, the building that housed it was demolished. This is what the spot looks like today:
This would not be the last time Sonic Youth and I would cross paths…
Next week: Top Ten Bands I Promoted Part 3
The cover of The Hentchmen’s “Ultra Hentch” is a photo of them performing live at Barristers!
F.Y.I: This is not a sustainable business model for a small music venue.