The Summer the Music Stopped: Local Venues See Crowds Thin

By CHRIS BURRELL

They're all tuned up and ready to rock and roll. There's
only one problem. The dance floor's empty, and there are just
three guys standing up against the wall waiting for the music.

Not even the band can avoid commenting on the dismal turnout:
"It's a lonely night at the Ritz," says Bear, lead
singer in Bear and Company.

The time is just past 10 o'clock at night, and outside at the
door at The Ritz Cafe on Circuit avenue in Oak Bluffs, Jon Parkinson
will tell you it's been this way all summer long: Music lovers are
staying home.

"This place is dead this year," says Mr. Parkinson, the
doorman perched on a stool to see if anyone walking down the main drag
will pony up the $2 cover charge.

Sadly, different versions of the same scene are happening all over
the Island's musical venues.

Up the street at The Rare Duck, owner Peter Martell has cut in half
the number of live bands he has playing. House bands that could rely on
a weekly gig have been sent packing. The Rare Duck is down to only two
or three nights of live music a week.

"I'm seeing a definite reduction in the audience,"
says Mr. Martell. "Some bands that did very well last year have
bombed out this year. I've just put in more deejays to lose less
money."

Nightclub owners and managers point to one obvious reason for the
fall-off in the music audience: The numbers of young people on-Island
have taken a nosedive.

"I don't think we can count on the 21- to 30-year-olds
anymore," said Bob Skydell, owner of Offshore Ale on Kennebec
avenue in Oak Bluffs. "It's the same-old
housing's-too-expensive thing."

"The college kids who came out, they're just not here
anymore," says Ritz co-owner Janet King-Stead, who also blames the
high summer rents for putting a dent in the demographic that used to
fill her bar's dance floor. "It's been the worst
summer I've ever seen since I started running the Ritz in
‘87 . . . . When (President) Clinton was here, everybody could get
those outrageous rents."

There's a strong feeling that the job market is tighter and
dominated by foreign workers, driving away the young college kids who
used to slide into those service-industry jobs.

But the problem goes deeper than just the reality of a graying
Vineyard population. Consider this: One of the Island's main
classical series is also hurting for concertgoers.

Dan Culkin, president of the Martha's Vineyard Chamber Music
Society, says numbers are down at both the Chilmark Community Center and
The Whaling Church in Edgartown.

"At Chilmark, the difference is more significant. On a good
night, we would hope to have 180 people. This year our best has been
135," he says. The classical concerts happen twice a week for six
weeks.

The Edgartown concerts are drawing about 160 people a week, compared
to roughly 190 a week last summer. "Our audience tends to be
senior," says Mr. Culkin.

His explanation? It's a combination of a sluggish economy,
fewer people on the Island and too many choices for entertainment.

"There's a great deal of competition for the time and
intellectual energy of people like concertgoers," says Mr. Culkin.

Michael Barnes, owner of Aboveground Records in Edgartown and a
ticket seller for concerts at the Hot Tin Roof and high school
performing arts center, is convinced that high ticket prices are killing
the music scene here.

"We haven't sold out of anything here. We're
always left with a stack of old tickets," says Mr. Barnes.

Case in point: the reggae band Steel Pulse, which came to the Hot
Tin Roof last month. "But the tickets were $40. They get a good
show, and they ruin it. We turned away about 30 people who didn't
want to pay that,'' says Mr. Barnes.

His suggestion is to charge less money at the gate and make it up in
alcohol sales. But club owners say they're witnessing a trend
from their cash-conscious customers.

‘'With this economy, people are grabbing a six-pack,
drinking for a dollar a beer and not coming out until 11:30 to see
‘Where's the party and where are the girls?' "
says Mr. Martell.

There's no doubt that the economy has hit the young crowd
hard, says Hot Tin Roof general manager Cory Cabral. "It's
difficult to get the younger crowd that doesn't have the capital
to afford a vacation and a show," he says.

Already hard-pressed for an audience, musicians and club managers
say the competition factor is just cutting up the pie. Just a month ago,
three restaurants on the Oak Bluffs harbor snagged new entertainment
licenses allowing them to have live music.

"There are too many venues," says Mr. Skydell. "We
had a great concert, an award-winning blues act but the turnout was
definitely thin. I told the guy, ‘Right now, there are seven bands
within 200 yards, and there's only 500 people on the street
looking for something to do.' "

The impact is being felt on both sides of the music scene, for
owners of the establishments and the musicians themselves.

Guitarist Buck Shank was one of those musicians cut loose from a
weekly gig at the Rare Duck. "That was the always the bread and
butter. It's piecemeal now," he says. "Clubs are
skeptical about mid-weeks, and it gets a little tougher."

At the Rare Duck, Mr. Martell says, "We're probably 20
to 30 per cent off last year. That's a lot of money."

Don Groover, a guitarist in Bear and Company, says the crowds
finally roll in past 11 p.m., but "sometimes it's like
pulling teeth" to attract the audience.

"It's been a hard road," says pianist and keyboard
player Jeremy Berlin. He has steady gigs at Park Corner Bistro,
Lola's, the Ritz and in the cellar bar at Atria, but the scene is
entirely unpredictable, he says.

"There's a real ebb and flow," he adds. "A
lot of the older people aren't into going out that late. You
really have to pull them in."

Pulling them in, though, is not an impossible feat. Over at the
Atlantic Connection, Mr. Santoro has cut back on the national acts and
focused on bands that have a broad appeal across the age brackets and
don't cost as much money.

"I booked Arrested Development, and that catered to an all-
around audience from 21 to 50," he says.

Wednesday night's show by the Jamaican reggae act Luciano was
another example of Mr. Santoro's formula for fighting off an
anemic music scene.

The band pulled in 370 paying customers, who dropped $20 apiece on
tickets. Audience members cut across the age, race and even ethnic
spectrum. The Island's transient Jamaican work force turned out in
huge numbers.

"I've had Luciano on my list for three years,"
says Mr. Santoro. "The Jamaicans love him, but you book Toots or
Burning Spear and you don't see these people. He's younger
and more hip."

Increasingly, Mr. Santoro is turning to the duo at Aboveground
Records - Mr. Barnes and store manager Chris Liberato - to
help him make wise booking decisions. "If I have the backing from
Chris and Mike," says Mr. Santoro, "then I know
there's a buzz, and I'm not afraid to bring them in."

The AC can hold 450 people. He's tried to keep ticket prices
between $10 and $20. "This year, I'm not making any money at
the door," says Mr. Santoro. "I just want to cover my
costs."

Over at Offshore Ale, Mr. Skydell says he's losing money with
the live music but maintains that clubs have to subsidize the music.
"If I can cover half my expenses at the door, I'm
ecstatic," he says. "If people say they heard tremendous
live music here, that has promotional value."

His approach is gearing the music toward an older crowd. "I
was at the Roof for Vineyard Vibes, and it was jam-packed, but the
average age was 50," he says.

A Tuesday night gig features an open stage. Jim Belushi and Carly
Simon have turned up for impromptu performances.

"The average age is 40 and above, and the word has gotten
out," says Mr. Skydell.

Both Offshore and the AC are also trying to nurture an even younger
audience by occasionally hosting a 19-and-over show. Audience members
who are 21 and over are fitted with a wrist band while the underage
folks have their hands marked so they can't get alcohol.

Music lovers also appear to be hungry for something new. At the
Offshore Wednesday, a new band on the scene called Dogwood pulled in
well over 40 people.

Back on Circuit avenue at the AC, Luciano, his six-piece band and
his three female vocalists were electrifying the dance floor. Well past
midnight, Luciano was still high-stepping across the stage to the
chest-pounding bass.

"It's the best reggae to come to the Island in a long
time," said Skip Davis, sweat dripping from his gray hair and
soaking his black shirt.

Ian Thurber, a 22-year-old from West Tisbury - still smiling
after the show when he went for back-door doughnuts behind Reliable
Market, said simply: "Everybody's sick of seeing
Toots."