Mandancing has been one of my favorite bands around for years now. There are some artists that just seem to tap into a state of raw passion, and few have that power like Steve Kelly. I’d also like to give a shoutout to Ben Petty for perfecting the wistful side-stare.
Basement shows were essentially my introduction to the independent music scene back around 2012. Every venue has its own vibe, but the energy is always similar—a bunch of people, from a bunch of places, all cramming into the dusty, sometimes dirt-floored basement of a 1920’s two story house in New Brunswick, all hoping to hear their favorite local artists do their thing before they “make it”. I’ve seen some incredible performances and met some amazing people in those dark cellars. I’ve squished myself between air ducts to get decent views, I’ve mushed tissues in my ears when I forgot to bring earplugs, and I’ve learned to open beer bottles with MacGyver-like methodology.
Packed in the crowd, held up more by your neighbors’ shoulders than your own feet, basking in the decibels pumped out by antique wiring begging for rest, you’re a part of something greater. A shared frequency—a shared purpose—to appreciate the expression of others. To empathize. To drink PBR’s and Miller Lite. To be a member of a community with a common love of art and music, and a common respect for each other. I’ve even played some of my favorite shows in basements.
Fun fact: On the Curry side of my family, both of my grandparents grew up in the city of New Brunswick. Nanny and Pop-pop lived on opposite ends of the College Ave campus at Rutgers, in the very houses that now host streams of students semester by semester. I’ve attended and performed in the basements of houses on the childhood streets of my grandparents—wondering if the loved ones that made me possible ever wandered through the room decades before, maybe visiting neighbors. There’s something to be said for legacy here, but I’d rather just feel it than try to put it to words.