things will happen while they can

I moved to Boston about 11 years ago; young, naive and excited about my future. I wanted to direct music videos more than anything. Though I lived overseas for 19 years or so, I have recently begun to appreciate Massachusetts as my home. Unfortunately, much like the landscape of Karachi, Boston is changing. I walked down Lansdowne Street the other day, and saw the chain link fence that surrounded what used to be Axis and Avalon. The crews haven’t begun tearing the place apart, but you can tell it will only be a few days now. I stood in the rain for a while (getting completely drenched) and like a movie, I saw the chain link fence fade away as the evening turned into night. The street bustled with activity as scantily dressed women and over dressed men appeared from my past to line up outside Axis for 80’s night. My memories took me back to the late nineties, when my sister and I would dress up in our nicest cocktail dresses in our dorm room and board the T to head to Kenmore. The night was always filled with excitement and anticipation. We wondered what songs we would hear that night. If Depeche Mode and Duran Duran would be played before 1:50 or if we would have to go home disappointed. Every Friday night without fail we would head down there, drink water, and dance until closing. Sometimes men would hit on us, sometimes they wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter. We weren’t there to pick up guys, we weren’t there to meet people, we weren’t even there to drink. Our sole purpose was to dance. Strangely enough, she met her husband there eventually.

As I stood there in the rain I remembered my first concert at Avalon, Catherine Wheel, and I remembered seeing Our Lady Peace there. Though my memories are hazy, I think I also saw Placebo, Stabbing Westward, and Econoline Crush there at some point as well. One night, when they were sold out, I sat outside the door listening to Type O Negative. So many memories, being torn down to make way for another cookie cutter venue. To the left used to be Embassy, and before that Mama Kin. I saw Econoline Crush there too. The whole landscape of the street is changing. The whole purpose to make more room for Red Sox fans and BU families. “Let’s make it BU friendly”.

I was reminded of a few years ago, after I had been out of “the scene” for a while, I called up a friend of mine and suggested we go to Man Ray on a Saturday night. There was a moment of silence before I was informed that Man Ray had been torn down for quite a while. Much like the Rat and the Deli Haus, one by one all of the haunts of my late teens and early twenties are being demolished.

Sappy as it sounds, I started to cry as I realized that in truth, whether the buildings remained or not, those carefree days with childlike reckless abandon and irresponsibility are over. The buildings and clubs were just symbols of that time. They will be replaced with architecture that will become symbols for other people, and represent their youth. With any luck, they wont be torn down in their lifetime, or at least not until they move away. But for me, every time I walk through Central Square or Kenmore, or Landsdowne, I see a gaping hole where my past used to be.