dionoczar and Lady Bones didn’t know what they were starting. The cramped, narrow basement trickled with sweat and fresh pipe condensation. The air quaked with distorted guitars and fierce drums. The floor vibrated with a crowd at capacity. This and more was the Overlook last Friday night before the property manager surprised the house venue with a visit. Comfy (who made a one night, round trip journey from Utica, NY) and High Pop were sent packing early.

• Silver Lining: the two touring bands made the effort to come to Boston and were thankfully still compensated by donations collected at the door.
• More Silver Lining: in fact, dinoczar and Lady Bones, the two Boston-based bands on the bill, gave their share of earnings to both of their traveling counterparts.

Still, what of the unplayed music? What of the Overlook’s future? They have had a short history, but according to its staff, that does not necessarily mean they are history, and thanks to their input on this article, the following tale can unfold.

Hosting house shows since December, the Overlook was on the rise to make a name for itself among underground venues. Bands such as Raindeer, Horse Jumper of Love, Quarterbacks, Community College, and Us and Us Only were among its bills. Its creators took pride in their lineups that gelled together local and touring acts. Overlook strode for professional quality performances.

They believed in promoting donations for the bands because, in the words of the Overlook manager, “there is a culture that wants entertainment to be free, that a house show is just a regular party where musicians happen to play, that there’s no need to pay. This is not OK.”

Their first concert was pure chaos. The place was packed for Midriffs, Nice Guys, Televibes, and Vundabar, it was hard to keep things under control. Collecting money at the door was a nightmare. People were vomiting in surprise locations. Two were caught fornicating behind curtains. The basement was at risk of becoming a permanent crater of wreckage. One attendant, who wishes to remain anonymous, called the show “something to tell your grandchildren about”.   It was baptism by fire education.

The crew of the Overlook reminisced how the intense crowd pushed against the heating pipes to such a critical point that the sound guy had to climb up onto the structure and hold everything back with a hammer to keep the audience from snapping anything apart. The singer of Vundabar  shouted to “get that fuckboy off the pipes!” before realizing (and retracting the “fuckboy”) what was happening.

After that night the people at Overlook began to organize. With help from other members of the Boston music scene, they streamlined more efficient door management, built structures to protect the piping, developed soundproofing and monitor/PA set ups so that the audience would have a quality listening experience and even bought walkie-talkie headsets to communicate with one another during shows.

Many friends volunteered to help and learn what it took to put on a gig. It was a fantastic opportunity to overcome the exasperating difficulties of showcasing the variety of music that flows through the city. Overlook was a community effort that did not go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Friday night was shaping up to be another top notch event up until its abrupt end.

I was there to review the show and it was my first time at the Overlook. I enjoyed the neon and Christmas tree lighting, the zig zag painted murals, and the draping curtains that made the basement a comfortable cozy location. The close quarters became closer as the crowd moved in and I took refuge in the corner by washer and dryer machines while the concrete hallway-like space filled with college aged audience members. There was a mixing desk hidden behind a wooden cubicle and a legitimate stage a couple inches off the ground with all the audio fixings you’d find at any bar or medium size venue.

dinoczar entered and blasted their way into the crowd’s ears and heads with punk rock intensity. Highlights included the popular “Ghouls” and a energizing finale cover of Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid.” They sweated and the crowd sweated and I sweated as the music kept going, never relenting, always at up-to-11 fuzz distortion. The audience rocked their bodies to the thumping fast rhythms. A sense of victory exploded in the air. The best kind of opening for a basement show. Everyone was pumped to continue the action.

Lady Bones moved in and kept the high paced motions crashing onto the sands of the crowd. Their set contained a little more dynamics in volume in the sense that there were brief, maybe 20 second bits of their songs which grew quiet. But for the most part, in such a small, condensed environment, anything that came from the stage, regardless of dynamics, reverberated and raged upon the audience. Wave after wave of sonic booms, from their song “Dead Dogs” to their closer “Botched” (a new track on their upcoming full length album that drops this June – keep an eye out for it) Lady Bones wailed away.

The Overlook was buzzing and alive after these two bands. People were dancing like mad, laughing, singing, partying and readying for Comfy and High Pop. It looked to be another testament of the house venue’s memorable character and potential.

When suddenly word spread via walkie talkie headsets between Overlook staff that the worst case scenario was going down. It was the property manager himself at the door.

I was upstairs having drinks and talking to classmates, a nice rest between sets where we could enjoy ourselves. Mid-sentence I was interrupted (rather rudely I naively first thought) and we were told we had to leave. We didn’t take the threat seriously. The property manager? Yeah right. But the staff were not playing, they told us to shut up and soon the place grew ominously quiet. The staff were caught off guard. They claimed this man who never answers their calls for normal tenant issues  (and allegedly underpays for maintenance, the scumbag) decided to mysteriously drop by Friday night.

I admire how the staff handled the stress. With their walkie talkies they were able to keep order and evacuate the basement, the porch and the upstairs rooms before the property manager had a chance see most of the damming evidence. People complied and left in a calm manner. We all avoided a shit show, that’s for sure.

But the Overlook, are they now done and out for the count?

Like a 1980s horror movie, a big question mark appears that the end of this tale with a “The End?”  Apparently in the aftermath of all this,  the police became involved and with a a hefty fine and an impending hearing, things do not look good for the Overlook crew. Maybe we’ll see the Overlook in a different form. Or maybe new offspring will arise.

Overlook’s defeat at the hands of the property manager adds to the unfortunate list of many who face such a fate. Yet the Overlook knew what they were getting into. In fact, that risk inspired them to start their own venue. Their booking manager explained what upsets them the most is “how hard it is to find enough spaces to showcase the amazing talent that resonates throughout the city.” The people at Overlook love the culture of house concerts. They know it’s important to host successful house shows and they went through the effort to organize one of fine caliber.

I hope something positive comes out of this. Basement shows are a tricky yet rewarding experience for everyone involved. All around Boston, there are unique combinations of  intimate, friendly, well attended parties with fantastic concerts from local and touring acts.

If you’re not a fan before seeing a band at a quality house show, its hard not to be when you leave. People love music and being around others who love music, that is why Overlook got into this business.

It was and is important to Overlook and others for this culture to keep moving forward.  The first concert anonymous crowd member lamented the end of the Overlook, hoping that “they keep fighting” because “Overlook had something that was gold and genuine. They did a good job running things. They didn’t take no for an answer, they dove right in and learned on the go.”

Best of luck to you Overlook. Like a Phoenix I hope you rise from the ashes in a new form that is just as fascinating and inspiring. I hope you prove to others that house venues can take the blows and return for a new fight. The underground performance culture is critical to the Boston music scene. It provides an outlet for bands and fans alike that a sanctioned (and sometimes sterile) venue can not complete with. Overlook and many others in this city are not simple house parties with out of control concerts. They are legitimate performance halls. They provide its staff of volunteers with crucial learning experience. They bring new and exciting cultures into our city. They are incubators for creativity and community. Take care Overlook, thanks for everything. We hope to see you again sometime. And if not, it’s been real.

Party on Overlook

Special thanks to the people at the Overlook for the information and thanks to all the bands who played during its initial run.