Ode to Great Scott

Ode to Great Scott Bidding Farewell to Boston’s Launching Pad

By Charlie Billings

Looking back after its recent closure, it feels strange that

Great Scott meant so much to me. It was small, dark, and felt a lot more like a worn-in corner bar than a bustling concert venue with shows every night of the week. But Great Scott represented a great deal more to the city of Boston, musicians, and concertgoers than could be understood from its appearance. Stepping past its imposing dark green awning and through its weathered wooden doors on a cold, dark night felt like starting an experience in itself. Once you crossed the checkerboard linoleum tile floors that would have looked more at home in a 1950s kitchen, you were in a weird little world.

In this manner, most of Great Scott’s greatest attributes were actually its idiosyncrasies. If you arrived early, there were often hardly any people there, other than the big bearded bartender and musicians loitering around the bar, since there was no backstage area at all. In fact, the curtain behind the stage fell immediately before a brick wall. Bands put their gear on a large shelf in full view of the audience. In the dim light, I often was able to slip my camera case and coat amongst the unused amps, mic stands, and cases. The stage was only a foot or two off the ground, putting the musicians barely above eye level. The sheer intimacy of the space was accentuated by this charmingly casual setting, where the audience members at the front of the crowd were literally face to face with the performers. This closeness between the musicians and the audience led to a truly comfortable environment. This allowed artists to make jokes about the excruciatingly loud hand dryers, which frequently interrupted quiet songs because the bathrooms were preposterously located down a hallway right next to the stage. Informal and peculiar, Great Scott was also a crucial tour stop and launching pad for legions of artists. It was a linchpin of the local music scene for 44 years, featuring not only nightly performances but also frequent album release shows, dance parties, and comedy showcases. Moreover, touring bands that later blew up often played their first Boston shows at the venue. Many of the best shows I saw in my time at Tufts were at Great Scott. I had my ears blown out by Swearin’. I saw a barely known Soccer Mommy open for Phoebe Bridgers, whose cover of Sheryl Crow’s “If It Makes You Happy” had the entire audience singing at the top of their lungs. I saw Whitney perform a piss-drunk late night set where they stumbled to perfection. I even saw shows where I actually enjoyed all three openers.

Most importantly, Great Scott was not just one small insular community of music fans, but rather multiple interrelated communities that gathered in the same place at different times. The crowd at an electro-pop concert was different from the crowd at a punk or rap show, but the audience was always friendly and polite in the small space. That combination of musical diversity, community feeling, and intimacy was the essence of Great Scott, and it’s what made it the iconic venue it was. Here’s to hoping the Boston area’s other small venues hang on throughout this crisis because they are essential to supporting the arts in the region and creating these sorts of integral communities.