15 March 21st-March 27th, 2024 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | statesmen that are kind enough to kind of show you the ropes. That’s what contrib- uted to the overall vibe of the scene. It’s like you’re a part of something that we’re all a part of. It made it the community. You can hear it all over While bands learned on the job, there’s no denying that the awful sound was part of the Long Wong’s charm. It was about embracing those DIY vibes and celebrating the venue for what it was: a chicken joint that threw concerts. Sara Cina, booker/manager: We didn’t have a sound guy, we didn’t have lights, we didn’t have a PA. There were a couple of speakers and the thing was slapped to the wall. It was the least likely music venue. Zubia: You could hear flaws and all. So you couldn’t disguise anything. You were either tight, well rehearsed and had your shit together, or you didn’t. You couldn’t hide behind any production, or having any distance, which creates some sort of illu- sion that the band is better than they are up on stage. Adam Carter, guitarist for Steppchild: The room sounded awful. There was no lighting there. There was no sound guide. The mixing board was on stage. The bands were controlling the mixer. The mixer only worked at 75% of its ability, maybe. And you know what, if I could, I’d go step back on that stage tomorrow. Still, bad sound quality had some real upsides. Grippe: If you can sound good at Long Wong’s, you can sound good anywhere. Except in the cases where you’re at the mercy of a sound guy or something when we started playing bigger venues and touring with like Joan Osborne or Dishwalla or bigger bands. True to the very roots It wasn’t just that the sound sucked and people made do. Rather, Long Wong’s was a touch dysfunctional to its core, and everyone embraced that as a badge of honor. It meant they’d all built this place from something weird and broken into something wonderful. Dave Wolfmeyer, singer/guitarist for Truckers on Speed: There’s maybe three buildings in the whole state that were actu- ally built with music in mind. Everything else is just a restaurant in a strip mall that somewhere a manager or an owner was like, “Oh shit, we need to get butts in seats and people drinking, so let’s do music.” I mean, every fucking room in the state sucks ... except the handful of places that were designed for music. Still, that tight space did have its benefits. If you’re going to a rock show, there’s some- thing to all that close proximity to bands and fans alike. Carter: That little room got so smoking hot and heated up that most of the time that door was open and all of the time that curtain was open behind the drummer. But there’s just an energy that this type of restriction brings. I also think that there was a whole component of the audience going, “Hey, I am here seeing this tonight. I am one of the few.” Like, “I got in here to be in the room while this was happening tonight.” Wolfmeyer: Whenever you’d load your crap off the stage and hang out afterward, you’ll have people coming up and telling you if they like you, which was cool for immediate feedback. Or I guess let you know if you suck right away too and just walk out. Could we have gone into a metal bar and done what we were doing and get the same reaction? Probably not. Rhodes: Because it’s so small, and there’s no negative space in between people as you’re looking out from the stage. And it amplified the energy. Like, you can’t bottle that shit. People would move in one place, you’re shoving some- body, so somebody else down the bar is moving and feeling your bump. Even some of the, um, less savory elements of Long Wong’s are often viewed in hindsight with a touch of nostalgia bordering on romanticism. Wolfmeyer: God, there was one stretch where one of their pipes broke under the building. And I mean, it was fucking raw sewage under there, man. It stunk to high hell. And in the middle of monsoon season — that didn’t help anything either. We’re playing and six inches below us is just this cesspool. But that’s fucking rock ‘n’ roll, right? Bruce Liddil, longtime Tempe resident: A friend of mine lived next door, or two lots over at a motel that became apartments. He called it “stinkin’ drinkin’” because the bathrooms were notoriously awful- smelling. I could pretty much take a deep breath and go in there and do your busi- ness and get out as quickly as possible. Something in the water It wasn’t just lackluster sound quality and poor design choices. So much of what made Long Wong’s feel truly magical were the intangibles. Grippe: The truth is that within a 5-mile radius during the early ’90s, Long Gone from p 13 >> p 16 Curtis Grippe, drummer for Dead Hot Workshop and Ghetto Cowgirl, works on sound during Long Wong’s final weekend. (Photo by David Rhodes)
