Shortly before midnight on Saturday, hard techno began pulsing from the Market Hotel, a handcrafted music venue nestled beside the elevated Myrtle Avenue subway station in Bushwick, Brooklyn. The crowd, many in their 20s, wore sunglasses, ripped jeans and fanny packs, lined up in the cold and threw themselves onto the dance floor.
The party, Market Hotel Sweet Sixteen, was intended to commemorate the venue's legacy as a DIY rock club. But as the beat continued into dawn, the celebration became about the current moment in a much-changed underground scene.
More than a decade ago, the Market Hotel nurtured a middle-class bohemian demographic and provided a stage for punk and indie bands like Real Estate, Vivian Girls, Titus Andronicus, and So So Gross. In its early days, it was defiantly underground, operating without a liquor license and housing musicians who slept in its cubicles. The address was passed down by word of mouth. If I knew, I would know.
Founded by So So Gross and music promoter Todd Patrick, known as Todd P, Market Hotel dates back to the days when a Pitchfork writer could rescue a noise-rock band from obscurity with a positive review, and was a favorite among millennials. It has become a hotbed of Brooklyn nightlife. At a recent Sweet Sixteen party, it was clear this was a timeless place where flannel shirts were all the rage and craft beer was served in mason jars.
“I don't know much about the indie rock scene that used to be here, but I appreciate the space it has now,” said Ashley Van Eyck, 26. Express yourself. ”
Connor Samuelson, 30, was old enough to remember seeing Pabst Blue Ribbons splattered across the floorboards. But just as Bushwick has changed, I think the Market Hotel has changed as well. It's evolved from the days of guys in leather jackets spilling beer everywhere. ”
As Brooklyn's early gentrification came under critical scrutiny, so did other DIY facilities like Shea Stadium. Patrick's 285 Kent and Silent Barn are gone, and the Market Hotel has been reborn as a new kind of haven.
Punk and rock are still in the mix, but the venue now hosts all-ages hip-hop shows from artists like Cash Cobain, Babytron and Destroy Lonely, and its electronic music program includes hyperpop and ghetto tech. Subgenres such as are introduced. It has also become an important nightlife space for Bushwick's queer and trans communities, regularly hosting parties such as Intima, Dick's Appointment, and La Gotafria.
“I think it's meant to adapt to any creative scene, whether it's a market hotel or the Lower East Side of the 1970s,” said Malik Brown, 24, the venue's general manager. Ta. “They're the people who came here before us, and none of what's happening now would be possible without them. But we're trying to reflect the underground scene now.”
Joni Graham, curator of nightlife at the Market Hotel, noted this change. “The New York scene repeats itself with different names and styles, but what changes is who gets to be a part of it,” she said. “Being an artist at the Market Hotel seems like a great time once upon a time. But there's always room to get better and better as time goes on.”
As the J-Train rattled past the windows and fog from smoke machines filled the dance floor, people went wild for sets from DJ Chaotic Ugly and AceMo. After a sweaty set by Umr, a producer who has worked with Charli XCX, Ms. Gram, 25, took to the stage carrying a birthday cake with lit candles on top.
“We came here to celebrate the Market Hotel's birthday,” she said. “We love you. You're beautiful. You're growing up. And we know you're going through adolescence right now, but you're going to get through it.” ,It is okay.”
Todd P., who had put his two children to bed before arriving at the party, stood to the side of the stage as hard techno blasted in his face. The 48-year-old, with a silver beard and a bun and black beanie, was drinking kava tea from a deli cup. He still oversees the market hotel and avant-garde music venue Trans his Pecos, but has delegated most of its operations to younger staff.
He left the club for a breather and refilled his tea downstairs at the Korean grocery store Mr. Kiwi, where he reflected on the scene he had created as the ceiling shook.
“I had a lot of time to step back and look at the Brooklyn moment of the late 2000s, the heyday of the so-called market hotel, and decided that we didn't want to be tied down to who we were,” he said. said. . “I've been thinking about the impact these spaces have on the neighborhood, and the downside to the secrecy is that these spaces can be a nuisance to people in the know, usually all similar people. We've been thinking about becoming objects. We're proud to say that we no longer have that problem at Market Hotel. These spaces shouldn't be just for a group of privileged college students. .”
“We don't want it to be a nostalgia exercise,” he added. “When bands like Wavves and Girls used to play here and people were hanging in the rafters and playing to rooms full of Pitchfork writers, that continuity is now broken. We’re not trying to recapture the past.”