“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”
- Bob Marley
It was the kind of place you'd expect to have chicken wire in front of the stage. I don't remember if it did for sure, but it was that kind of place.
When I first moved to Memphis in 1986, I was 28 and plenty daring and adventurous. Some would say stupid. Once I hit town I started asking around, “Where's the music?” I got wind of a place called The Antenna Club. If you asked a local about it you'd get one of three responses. They'd never heard of it; they'd nod knowingly and say, “Cool” or they'd give you a sideways look with a raised eyebrow like you'd just told them you enjoyed hanging out in graveyards late at night. I had to go.
It was down on Madison in Midtown on a desolate stretch of street. The outside had a recently abandoned, post-apcolyptic look, with graffiti all across the building's front and posters from shows past in various stages of decay. A lone sign above the door said “Antenna." As you learn, in Memphis the word “dangerous” is a relative term, but on my first night walking up to the place, things felt a little menacing.
Once inside, I discovered a grimy, scroungy, interior that had the feel of a bomb shelter that happened to have a stage at one end and a rudimentary bar at the other. The band, unknown to me, hadn't come out yet. It was 10:00 pm. People milled about and house music blasted. Finally, time for the show. Out comes an outfit from Nashville called Walk the West. They were some cross between Waylon Jennings and The Sex Pistols. And they were, do I need to say it, LOUD. I was smitten with all of it. I went back soon thereafter to see Jason and the Scorchers who were the progenitors of “Cow-Punk." For those who were there, I doubt they've ever forgotten that show.
The Antenna came to be in 1981 and closed down in 1995. Through those post-punk years it was a spot for up and coming alternative bands to play to appreciative audiences hip to what was going on. Bands like R.E.M. the Replacements, Alex Chilton, The Plimsouls, Widespread Panic, Cordell Jackson and on and on and on.
I didn't go that often. It could be a bit much, even for me. But I'm glad I experienced it. It's legendary. There's now a historical marker at the site of the club, and a documentary that chronicles its place in Memphis' vaunted music history. RP