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| - I saw Oh No! Oh My! play here. And Band of Annuals. And Eternal 42.
Maybe Joy Electric. But I can't be so sure. Once I learned about the "red cup rule" (booze can be brought in as long as it's in a plastic red cup), all of my experiences at Modified became one long haze of noise and staring intently at paintings and going "I see...yes...very interesting."
The Modified was like the "seedy bar/club" cliche in every movie you ever saw. You couldn't get within ten feet of the building without being pwned in the face with the scent of B.O. and pot. There are homeless people on the patio, lushes on the sidewalk, and a very disinterested door guy who doesn't even look up from his book to stamp your hand with some socio-political metaphor.
Amidst all the decay and broken glass there was (and still is, why the fuck do I keep switching tenses?) something really special.
The bands that came (come) aren't always the biggest and most well known. Because if they were, they'd be playing the Marquee.
But the shows are always worth watching. Even if the bands suck (and trust me, a lot of them do), the energy exchange between them and the crowd is intense.
I've seen people go entire shows clapping in rhythm with the songs. I've seen people cry. I've even people engage in group hugs and collapse to the ground.
...indie kids.
Unlike other venues, people came to the Modified to be seen (or it is scene? Get it? Fuck you).
You never learned their names, but you could spot them in a crowd. Girl with Crazy Hair. Boy Who Wore A Little Too Much Makeup For It To Be "Ironic". Girl That Always Smelled Really Good. Guy Who Always Wanted To Help The Band Move Their Gear.
I often wonder what my "scenester" nickname would be...
Yes, it's dirty. Yes it's cramped. And yes, if you try to pee near the dumpster the guy who owns the restaurant next door will yell at you in Chinese.
But after all of Phoenix is gentrified into submission, and all the art galleries and performance venues are bulldozed over to make way for more strip malls and high-end shopping outlets (with the occasional Starbucks dotted in to "give it culture"), we will have wished we had visited it more often.
Oh well. Maybe the Phoenix Art Museum will put in a performance venue.
"Hello Phoenix! I want to hear all of you singing along on this one! Even you, guy pretending to make sense of that Monet. Alright, let's go!"
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