Music

Model City Records has only been open a little more than three months now. I walk in the side entrance and put six dollars in the doorman's hand. There's a hustle going on: Someone doesn't have the right plug for an amplifier. Teenagers with faces I don't recognize are running back and forth, trying to get everything in order. The show must go on. Don't mind that the show was originally supposed to start at seven — it's 7:30 now and no one's up on stage yet. Everything is disorganized and ramshackle, but hey, the night's still young.

Brainchild of entrepreneurs Tyler Vise and Ian Green, Model City Records is an all-ages music venue housed in the remains of the closed Joke Factory on 11th Street between Wilmer Avenue and Noble Street. Model City Records is the latest in a long string of upstart venues spearheaded by Vise, but his first within Anniston city limits.

The first band is finally ready to play. They're a ska band called 50:50 Shot. They break out the strings and brass and begin to play. I feel like I've jumped into a time machine and stumbled out in 2001. Tenth grade was the last time I remember seeing a ska band perform — specifically Treephort at the now-fabled 1213 Rock Shows, Anniston's most famous alternative music venue until it closed in 2004.

I was under the impression ska was dead and buried, but this group from Atlanta is proving me wrong. You can barely hear the brass over the wall of guitar noise, but the show-goers don't seem to care. They're laughing and skanking — a special sort of thrashing dance unique to ska and punk rock. More people are slowly filing in. After a few songs, there's a large crowd in front of the stage. Amazingly, all of the people here are attending due to word of mouth and Myspace bulletins.

50:50 Shot finishes their high-energy set off to a fanfare and I walk outside for some fresh air until the next band goes on. Horns are still ringing in my ears. The skate punks are out in full force now and I start getting nostalgic. Fond memories of 1213 in its hey-day flood back to me while I watch the skaters ollie and crash to the concrete. I like to think that these kids are building similar memories and I hope that Model City Records is running long enough for those memories to take form.

Vise has witnessed the birth and death of a handful of upstart projects in the years following 1213's demise, starting with The Heflin Underground in 2004. Heflin Underground had shows generating attendance upwards of a 100 people at its peak, before it was closed down by the City of Heflin — the area he was operating in wasn't zoned for business. Then there was The Station (aptly operated from a derelict gas station in Jacksonville) and City Lights (also in Jacksonville). Both venues only hosted a handful of shows before being closed down due to complications stemming from lease disputes.

Vise has been accused of running venues into the ground, but he claims it's a false rap. All of the closings have been because of circumstances largely out of his control, but he believes that Model City Records is going to stick around for a while.

At this point, Vise informs me, they are making enough money from the door sales to cover the cost of rent and utilities. But there are things the newest venue needs: A better sound system, an interior decorator perhaps, a little more organization.

Vise mentioned that he'd like to get some kind of business operating during the week, maybe a coffee shop or showings of art-house films; something to bring extra revenue in, but the initial investment might make those aspirations hard to realize.

LNO Records is the next group that goes on. To my surprise, they're a hip-hop act. The extreme shift in sound and genre is bewildering at first, but everyone at the show is enjoying it. While I draw parallels to 1213, I can't remember ever hearing a ska band and a hip-hop act play on the same night.

I'm pleasantly surprised. Vise tells me that he enjoys having an eclectic set of performers for shows, and I believe that this could be the defining factor for Model City Records. This not only brings out a diverse group of people to the shows, it exposes local music lovers to sounds and sights they might not be familiar with.

Let's Get Invisible, a rock group from Jacksonville, is setting up. I recognize the bassist as the young kid scrambling for the hook-up two hours earlier. They open with a blast of light-hearted indie rock, as different from LNO Records as that group was from 50:50 Shot. Some kids are dancing; others are trickling out as slowly as they arrived. The vocals are muddy and the keyboard is nonexistent, but the set has the youthful vigor and charm that you don't get from arena bands and sold-out stadium shows. For their next song, they ask that everyone sit down on the floor of the venue. The power someone wields when they hold a guitar in their hands is apparent as kids hit the ground — tile and caulk meeting thrift-store digs and designer jeans. I sit leaned back with my legs straight out in front of me, swaying to the rhythm, and I recapture a bit of my charmed youth.

Matthew Collier is a writer from Anniston, Alabama. He believes the heart of rock n' roll is still beating.