Whether I can remember them all, I've found myself stumbling out into the streetlight glare of Davis Street trailed by a haze of thick smoke plenty of nights. I've guzzled enough Sparks and Natty Boh's at both their bars to propel my heart into violent, pulsing mess mirroring the sounds on stage, and likely for several years fewer than it naturally ought to. I've seen unwarranted freak-outs, drunks climbing the alley fence outdoors to intensify their ability to fully rock out and a guy's pants almost get lit on fire as he stumbled atop the bar. But with much regret, the Talking Head Club, after opening its doors at 203 Davis St. three years ago, will be closing indefinitely by the end of this year, according to an e-mail from booking director Lexie Mountain.
To anyone familiar with the venue (or with the unsurprising lack of decent bars in Baltimore), this should come as an upsetting shock. In its five-year history, the Talking Head has emerged in its niche as a local haven for experimental up-starts and national touring acts alike. Its intended mission is "to provide a smaller venue for bands that might not be able to fill up the larger clubs around town," Mountain said. Not as spacious as the Ottobar, not nearly as lame as Ram's Head, the club on Davis Street embodies the perfect blend of cozy filth and unmitigated revelry. It's as welcoming to destruction and a sloppy good time as the nearest frat house, but the patrons have respect enough not to wreck the place (entirely). Its unwavering bedrock of community strength has been one of its most recognizable and adored trademarks.
With regard to booking, the Web site claims, "Talking Head loves to have three band bills with one out of town act and two locals. Now that is a show." Looking through past bills, their commitment to this spirit is undeniable. This is not to say that merely residing in Baltimore will guarantee you a spot. The Talking Head has typically showcased some of the better, more curious and bizarre local talent brooding in dim alcoves throughout the city. WZT Hearts, The New Flesh, Dan Deacon and More Dogs are but a few who show up on bills consistently.
Local band Two If By Sea played their final Talking Head show on Saturday, Nov. 18. Of the club, they said, "There was relatively no pressure playing there, as opposed to opening for a bigger national act at a larger venue. This sometimes resulted in some slightly rough performances, but when things really clicked, it spawned some truly memorable live sets." They hold high praise for "the `anything goes' attitude of the whole place. No sound checks or over-enforced set times," as well as the "memorable ... sometimes maniacal" crowds. Drawing not only patrons but bands to gladly return regularly is some of the highest acclaim for any venue.
As for memorable touring bands, Mountain explained, "Some of my favorites have been Dirty Projectors, a nine-piece band crammed onto the stage, Akron/ Family playing as long as they possibly could, Caroliner transforming the space into a day-glo cave, a tender duet between Ian Nagoski and Tom Carter, Skullflower losing his mind and a five-day festival of all experimental/psychedelic/noise bands that occurred in 2004."
Notably, the club has hosted two years of Reverent Fog, a two-day, all-day mostly avant-garde and experimental festival which this past year has brought the likes of Kid Congo Powers, Pissed Jeans and Air Conditioning among an array of beloved local acts to Davis Street. This past Monday, a decent-sized crowd of regulars hovered around the bar and dance floor for the Taxidermy Lodge dance party. It wasn't as packed (or as neon) as Sonar can be, but held just the right atmosphere, despite the surrounding air of the club's imminent closing not entirely stifled by the bursts of sound and second-hand smoke. An air which, for me, hung heavy indeed.
What does the future hold? Considering the club's Phoenix-like tendency to pop up along unassuming Baltimore streets (it once occupied the space of the current Ottobar), we are well advised to expect a new incarnation of the Talking Head at some future date. When or where this will be remains uncertain. As for the physical space left by the structure, according to Mountain, "Evidently the club will either be remodeled by vending machine operators or demolished completely."
Some of the highlights left this year include Clockcleaner, a pounding, irreverent Midwest Jesus Lizard-sounding trio, Spank Rock, as part of Baltimore Bass Connection night, and the MT6 Fest II, an end-of-year "blow out" with more homegrown (vaguely) musical oddities than you can pump a fist at. Or, slowly nod a head at. Don't miss these. 203 Davis St. will be closing down for good after a farewell show this New Year's Eve featuring an ever-growing list of local bands. If you happen to be around, by all means, go. Several years of local history have been screamed, pounded and vomited out here, the memories of which will surely continue on after the new year in ghost-like splendor.
