Photo by Ray Ermel/Ray Ermel Photography
by Kyle Taylor |
A truly great band does their work for the love of the music, not the love of the paycheck. Local to Pennsylvania, The Districts have seen an irrefutable rise in stock to their name over the past few years. Last fall the group not only headlined, but also sold out one of Philadelphia’s oldest and most renowned venues: the Electric Factory. Yet, just this past Friday, the blues rock rompers kicked down any need for a stage or barricade when performing at Creep Records, a humble record store in Philadelphia’s Fishtown neighborhood.
Financial ambition is not always the driving point for bands, but reach the point of selling over two thousand tickets and it is undeniable that someone in the woodwork is thinking about maximizing profits. Often times this can create a separation between artist and fans, those unwilling or unable to drop a large portion of their weekly paycheck every time a band they like comes to town. To our great pleasure, however, The Districts found a way to beat this phenomenon. Sure, the Creep Records performance was in celebration of a re-pressing of the band’s debut album, Telephone (2013), and the record did sell out before The Districts even took their places; but, neither buying a copy of the record, nor buying a ticket, were requirements for the show.
Well over a hundred blues rock-hungry fans piled into the record store as The Districts began to plug in and the distortion began to hum. Even when wristbands denoting the store’s legal capacity ran out, fans did not stop. Creep’s many doors were propped open, and fans made room in the surrounding Piazza complex.
This is not some angst-driven piece about fighting the power or never giving into the man; it should always be encouraged to pay for and support those musicians and artists one loves. Still, it should be just as equally commended when artists such as The Districts, capable of generating thousands of dollars in ticket sales, is willing to get down just like the good old days with just a relative handful of devout fans packed into a small, sweaty space like a can of sardines.
All photos by Ray Ermel/Ray Ermel Photography