Hidden within miles of corn and dirt, Springfield's vibrant punk scene resides in the heart of central Illinois and is anything but peace and quiet. The maize horizon grows into city streets and the culture grows louder the more you drive into the state's capital, but the hardcore punk kids still live by the same rural message: If you build it, they will come.
That celebrated do-it-yourself climate is never more on display than at Dumb Fest each year, an annual punk gathering that draws hundreds from around the country to the scene's primary neighborhood, Southtown. In that neighborhood, you can find The Black Sheep Café, which has been the rock at the base of Springfield's scene since it first started hosting shows in 2005, next door to legendary Skank Skates, which was previously the main spot for punk shows since the late 80s. It's also a legendary skating location that still sees skaters drop in while bands play on one of the ramps.
"I've been able to see many phases come and go," says Clare Frachey, one of Black Sheep's owners, who has gone to shows there since she was 14 years old. "[It's] special because we are sustaining something most towns, both big and small, don't get to see."
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Now though, a generation of musicians born and bred at Black Sheep have started transforming their corner of Southtown with a budding block of new music-based businesses. The recently constructed Dumb Records and Southtown Sound recording studio now both circumvent the same small, gravel lot behind Black Sheep and Skank Skates, forming a DIY theme park of sorts that attracts bands touring through the scene each week—the alley entrance is now even marked with a gigantic green, carnival-like elephant statue. The recently launched businesses are the next breath of fresh air in the ongoing process of keeping the local community involved in the scene, with separate spaces dedicated to recording local music, distributing it, and putting it on display.
The musicians and show promoters in the area have often used creative means to keep their all-ages shows as fun and fresh as possible, marking one of the scene's most unique traits. Last month, the owners of Black Sheep rented a 16-foot by 16-foot bouncy house to blow up inside the venue during a show. "It's important to create those shows that we will never forget," says Brian Galecki, one of Black Sheep's current owners. "If we stuck to the same old show format for every single one of the thousand shows inside Black Sheep we have done, a lot of us involved would get burnt out pretty quick." In June, this year's Dumb Fest hosted shows in their record store, the studio, the skatepark, and even tunnels underneath streets throughout the city—the most memorable was a late-night set at a barn out in the farms surrounding Springfield. Kids flooded the inside of the barn, climbed the walls, and hung from its rafters as others clamored over each other below.
But the beauty of Springfield's scene, its community members point out, is its support system and its ability to remain an all-ages space for high schoolers to get involved with music.
"I never thought this kind of thing was so close to me," says BJ Pearce, co-owner of Southtown Sound and The Black Sheep Café, who went to his first Black Sheep show when he was 15. "I always thought shows like these only happened in the big cities, far away."
Black Sheep shows have become synonymous with herds of high schoolers, running around in a circle pit or back and forth against each other and the venue's walls. Despite the scene's noticeable success in getting local kids hooked on live punk music, the venue's owners say getting them to the venue is the hard part.
"Getting that new generation to come out is always a challenge," says Brian Galecki, another co-owner of The Black Sheep Café. "For us, to work towards hitting that next wave of young kids, we always have to be evolving and we have to constantly be mixing things up and trying new things."
Despite the financial challenges and the practical roadblocks of spreading the word, the Springfield scene still experiments with different ways to get more people involved. Late every summer, the all-ages show space hosts Black Sheep Fest, which highlights the most active and best local bands in the area, and they also throw annual band lotto shows, where people put their names in a hat and randomly get drafted to new bands. "Even with all of the challenges we face and the tremendous amount of our own time and money we have to put into this thing," Galecki says. "All of us realize that what we have going is extremely important to giving others a voice and outlet to create music and art and keeping a community alive in Springfield."
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Livin' Thing
Pryss
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Hospital Job
Attic Salt
Originally sharing a founding member with Hospital Job, Attic Salt started the way many bands in the scene do: at a show. When frontwoman Alyssa Currie and drummer Fred Malcom met at an open mic and continued talking about starting a band until they did. Also, like many bands that have started in the past two years, the speedy indie band started by recording and playing shows at Southtown Sound studio.
Another act filled with veterans who grew up playing in the scene throughout the 90s and early 2000s, Attic Salt guitarist Andrew Harmon says that perspective gives him appreciation for what the scene has grown into today. "One thing that has been pretty consistent is that, for a town this size, there are a lot of musicians and bands who are, at least for periods of time, very active and supportive of the general scene," Harmon says. "That element has always been here in one way or another, different generations of kids picking up and then passing the torch."Sean Neumann is on Twitter.