Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, August 26, 1993 TAG: 9308260120
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By STEPHEN FOSTER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
On the sidewalk: kids from the skateboard set, popping tricks off the curb; poseurs dressed in baggy pants and black; partiers pierced with nose rings and the like; hot pink hairdos, mohawks and shaven scalps.
From a set of red-painted doors comes the harsh sound of guitars speed-grinding around a singer screaming, or the horns and offbeat drums and bass of a ska band.
It's happening at the Secret Garden, the newest place in Roanoke to hear music for headbangers, moshers and slammers, ska-boys and punkers - "alternative" music, in all its guises and genres.
There are other clubs around, but the Secret Garden is the only one that consistently books alternative acts, and it's the only club other than the Iroquois Club that caters to crowds both over and under 21.
"We do overs and unders," said John Muskopf, the restaurant owner. "We let the kids in . . . because it kind of ups the flow of the music."
About four months ago, a band came to him and asked if they could play a gig on the second floor of the restaurant, which Muskopf and his family have operated for more than six years.
Given a lackluster patronage on weekend nights that amounted to not much more than a few bar-sitters whiling away the evenings over drinks, and an enthusiastic prompting by his sons to bring music to the club, Muskopf decided: Why not?
Now the secret's out.
"The crowd's so diverse," said Tony Weinbender, 17. "It's not just one style or one flavor. . . . It's not just a one-race crowd either."
"Those are the crowds listening to the new kinds of music."
Erin Okerman, 23, books bands for the club.
She mixes bands from Pittsburgh, Richmond and elsewhere with a number of local acts, members of which make up a sizeable chunk of the clientele when they're not playing. Okerman says she books mainly hard-core and punk bands, and tries to give struggling acts a chance.
"When you book a big band, and you book a local band," she said, the fans "come to see the big band, and then they see the local one, and they say, `They're really cool.' "
"This is real," Okerman said.
In the expansive carpeted room upstairs, up to four bands a night play. There's no stage, but having the crowd right up on them is a plus, bands say.
"It's really intimate," said Craig Long, a bald-headed, big-hat-wearing bassist and singer for "Relative 2 Nothing," which played there on a recent night.
"It's so much fun," said Weinbender, a sax player in Swank, a ska band made up mostly of Lord Botetourt High School seniors. Swank played there regularly this summer. "It feels like a home environment. You're on their level."
For Swank, that means having their following - many of whom are under 21 - rolling around on the floor in front of them, moshing and swinging from metal rafters.
Muskopf, who tends bar downstairs, frowns on that a tad. Recently he was visited by an Alcohol Beverage Control agent who chastised him for allowing dancing to get too rowdy, he said.
On any given night, depending on the band, the crowd may be made up of half as many under-21 partiers as over. But anywhere there's alcohol being served and underage patrons - one woman called the crowd "half-young, half-alcoholic" - there's the possibility of illegal drinking.
Muskopf said simply, "We try," to keep an eye on the crowd. His sons watch for people slipping drinks to underagers, and ID's are checked at the door. Each night a few are asked to leave.
On a recent night, a police officer who had been called to escort a fake-ID holder off the premises, said the restaurant is "very good" about making sure those under 21 don't drink. "I'm surprised [Muskopf] didn't just let it slide."
"John makes good drinks, but he's really strict," said Janet Maynard, 22. "Even if I was under 21 it would be a great place to go."
Muskopf makes little money on the underage segment, but said, "I can't complain at all really. They like that kind of music. It's not really my kind . . . "
Clubs have a tendency to come and go, but Muskopf thinks the Secret Garden scene will endure. With an already established daytime restaurant business and only six employees, all of whom are related to him, he doesn't have to worry too much about relying on the nightclub aspect.
Plus, kids will keep coming, he hopes.
Said Muskopf: "There's not that many places they can hear that kind of music."
by CNB