Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you
        - Simon and Garfunkel

It's the kind of loss that hits you suddenly even if you should have expected it. It was inevitable, as most loss is, but it is no less heartbreaking. 17 months after The Coop took over for Brainstains, there will no longer be shows at that address that's been repeated so many times over the last few years: 3535 N. Lombard. I, for one, will very dearly miss seeing bands in the space that occupied that address.

The final show I attended at that address, the final show that address will ever host, was not all that different from most shows I attended there: I saw a band I'd never heard of(Gobstopper), a band I've heard a lot about(Hail Seizures), and a band I might never see again(New Zealand's Freddy Fudd Pucker)

Here's some of what I'll remember best from my times at 3535 N. Lombard over the years:

* Seeing The Vonneguts for the first time on a mid spring evening, May '07

* Eskimo & Sons covering "I Will Always Love You" and the power going out for blocks around, June '07

* Nick Vicario's 18th birthday party, August '07

* Making Kyle Morton from Typhoon say "next up Wolfgang Williams and the Punk Rock Faggots" at night three of the inaugural Sound Judgment Festival, October '07

* Throwing a bottle against the fence and getting yelled at then excused by Saffron, because it was me, October '07

* Walking the 4 miles home after the last show at Brainstains in February '08 and contemplating the histories and stories of the house venues I walked past.

* Getting a weird nicotine high on the 4th of July, 2008

* Wearing a full black suit and dancing to Strength, July 2008

* Being hungover the day after Bernie Mac died, August 10, 2008

* Moshing to Street Plant/Silent Majority at Sound Judgment Festival 2, October 2008

* The Rainy States encoring for one of the only times ever, March 2009

All the complaints about the space always seemed so silly to me. "It was too far, " people moaned. Bullshit. The 75, one of the more useful bus lines in the city, went right to its front door. "The people were too weird, you couldn't have fun there," they said. Get over yourself. All the complaints are moot now. We may well never see the likes of the space again.


Some of the best shows I've ever booked, one of the worst shows I've ever booked, and a few of the best performances I've ever seen all took place at that misunderstood and, in the end, under appreciated space. I laughed there. I yelled. I felt alive. I felt alone. I felt pride. I felt disappointment. I felt satisfied. I felt frustrated. I fell in and out of love in that yard and within those walls. We all did, and we are all the stronger for it.