CAVE 9 (2002-2009) R.I.P.

It pains me greatly to write this, but Cave 9 has officially closed.

This is when it sucks for BHAM.FM to be the first to report something.

(side note: I’m writing this on March 15, the Ides of March. Coincidentally, today really has turned out to be tragic.)

As you may have read in the Retrospective series (now titled “History” on the top menu), Cave 9 was one of the most recent in DIY ventures for Birmingham, following a series of similar shutdowns in the past. In a city full of 18+/21+ shows, it was often the one place where people of all ages, backgrounds, musical tastes, etc. could come together under the banner of independent music, as well as arts and crafts.

For the past few years, Cave 9 had been struggling to stay afloat due to a problem with state back-taxes. They also ran into safety concerns as crime became more prevalent in the original location at the corner of Magnolia and 23rd, so they relocated to Greencup Books. However, some issues became apparent with that location, which led to the move to its most recent location on 1st Avenue South. This was all to culminate with the Madball show; however, the fire marshal shut that down after a complaint from a neighboring business. To make matters worse, a cease and desist letter was issued from the mayor’s office, threatening arrest if any further shows were put on at the new Cave 9. With yet another location out of the picture, and virtually out of options, the decision was made to officially cut losses and close the doors, as it were.

As my friend and former bandmate Tim Stooksberry put it, “I can’t imagine what I would have done without places like Slacker 66, the Crush, Big Dan’s, etc. when I was underage.” We were both over 18 by the time Cave 9 opened, but we saw a lot of new kids coming in that were easily at least as young–if not younger–than us when we started attending indie shows at Slacker 66. Let me tell you this: if you’ve seen Alabaster these days, you’re basically looking at Hoover, but back in my day, Alabaster was just a hick town that everyone was trying desperately to escape from. The shows that I attended with Tim and other friends from high school–and where I met and made even more friends–were that escape. It’s probably not much of a stretch at all to assume that Cave 9 was the same escape for a new generation of kids right behind us. With venues like Bottletree, Rojo, Speakeasy, etc. around, the indie sensibility remains, but with all of these locations serving alcohol, this severely limits the options for the youth of the Birmingham area. And with the need for these for-profits to at least break even, there is less likelihood that independent, unsigned, and promising acts will get a fair shake for fear that the otherwise unheard of musicians/talent will not attract enough of a crowd. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not trying to impugn these great venues for simply doing business the best way they can; I’m lamenting the loss of a choice for the kids and a chance for the truly DIY talent.

Cave 9’s motto was “We’ve got too much heart” due to the intensity and passion with which the club owner and volunteers worked to make the club enjoyable, as well as the same fervor given back by the community who regularly attended and the bands who kept Birmingham on the map by making Cave 9 their home for a night (in some cases, quite literally; some bands actually rolled out sleeping bags on the floor of the club before hitting the road again the next day). Whether it was supporting Birmingham’s true independent music scene by hosting Awesomefest as an alternative to a Furnace Fest that had become trademarked property of Tooth and Nail Records, having loyal audiences who would even host touring bands in their own homes for the night as well as take them out for dinner at local favorites like Al’s, New China Town, the Purple Onion, Rojo, etc., and even hosting a punk rock wedding complete with silly string and vegan cake and cookies, Cave 9 truly embodied their motto with the overwhelming amount of love that every single person involved contributed. It is my sincerest hope that this heart will not die with the physical club’s closing, but that another inspired generation will carry the torch and give Birmingham’s youth an alternative outlet for their creativity, hopes, and aspirations. As long as there is music to be played, kids will go through their parents’ and older siblings’ record collections/CDs/iPod/last.fm, pick up instruments, jam with friends in garages and basements, and eventually make it to a stage somewhere and fall absolutely in love with the possibilities.

For a complete listing of shows moved from the now-closed Cave 9, please visit our “Cave 9 Moved Shows Listing” post or the official Cave 9 website