Richmond’s DIY venues are disappearing

So are the resources they provide

Molly Manning, News Editor 

Maeve Bauer, Spectrum Editor 

Cora Perkins, Assistant Spectrum Editor 

The first thing to greet partygoers at a recent “First Caturdays” rave was the smiling faces of cat ear-wearing volunteers. They sat behind a table lined with menstrual products, opioid-overdose antidote naloxone and pamphlets and zines about mutual aid and human rights — all free resources. 

The rave was held at Powers BMX Shop, where bike ramps for bunny hops and tail whips the garage are turned into DJ stands, and the space outside is used as a stage for fire spinners and local artists. 

“That’s really what this stuff funds, everybody’s artistic vision and creating a space where people feel safe to explore themselves and their interests and their hobbies and their flow,” said Maeve Fasce, a volunteer. “Yeah, just get a little weird, a little fun and listen to music. And I see all people from all walks of life come here and it is really amazing.”

Attendees were told they must ring the bell hanging at the edge of the check-in tent on their way into the event for “good luck.” 

In junkyards, under bridges and in the furthest reaches of Richmond, do-it-yourself music venues have provided people with alternative spaces to safely party for decades. But as the city develops and demographics change, the scene has shifted to more established venues that do not provide the same resources to attendees.  

What is a DIY venue?

DIY venues are usually not designated event spaces. They can be anywhere a drum set or spinning table will fit — from someone’s living room or backyard to empty warehouses. 

Many DIY venues are often tailored to queer people, people of color and neurodivergent folks, from the music they play to the environments they provide. Creating separate spaces away from the amps to destimulate is common, unlike many traditional concert halls and beer gardens.

The “First Caturdays” rave and mutual aid fundraiser was organized by the Party Liberation Foundation in partnership with Mutual Aid RVA, better known as MAD RVA. To them, community support both inside and outside of rave scenes is a part of what makes events worthwhile. 

There is plenty of overlap between partygoers at events like “First Caturdays” and groups like MAD RVA. The nonprofit’s main operation is the Meadowbridge Community Market, a free grocery and supply store. During the January water crisis, MAD RVA distributed thousands of water bottles to people in need. 

Fasce, a newcomer, emphasized the family aspect of PLF. They not only show up for the greater Richmond community at raves — there is a lot of inter-foundation support within the members’ day-to-day lives. 

“I think that our team, the people who are part of us and do set up and break down every event, are such integral parts of their community even outside of PLF,” Fasce said. “We all come together and use our skills to create art on the biggest scale that we can muster.”

Kaylin Howard, a member of both PLF and MAD RVA, said community support is vital.  

“You got to put your own mask on first, but also you have to help each other,” Howard said. “When you’re in these like, smaller collectives, it’s like, ‘all right, we see each other, we need help, we’re going to help each other.’”

Howard has been able to join other groups through the support she has gotten from PLF. The close-knit nature creates a butterfly effect of positivity. 

DIY events like “First Caturdays” make space for unique vendors and performers. Many PLF members are fire spinners, sculptors, aerialists, poets, painters and artists of all types — bringing “Burning Man” to backyards. They also hold workshops with instruction for anyone interested in fire spinning. 

Information for DIY events is mostly circulated through independent social media pages, such as the RVA RAVERS Facebook group and the organizers’ Instagram pages. The most remote events usually have coordinates, not addresses. Attendees may have to message organizers privately for addresses. 

DIY venues shutter across the river city

While some DIY mainstays like Gallery 5, the nonprofit that has hosted First Fridays for years, help uphold some aspects of Richmond’s weird nightlife, more venues and organizers disappear every year.

The Wharf, officially known as Richmond’s Intermediate Terminal Warehouse, once stored salt and oysters before it became a popular destination for raves — until Richmond announced plans to revitalize the dilapidated site in July, according to VPM News. 

The Deck, a backyard of a home on Cary Street, known for the tree revelers who frequently climbed mid-set, hosted various 18+ events for several years, including “Goth Prom.” The venue quietly closed in [specific year]. 

There was also the Imperial Lounge on Main Street that brought DJs and rappers from across the country to perform on their second-floor stage in Richmond, until the ceiling caved in earlier this year. 

Community Service was a legendary series of parties oriented for Black and queer Richmonders that carried the “NOTAFLOF” sentiment: No One Turned Away for Lack of Funds. They operated out of an old junk yard in Manchester before ending their lease last summer, though they still hold occasional shows at different venues.

Most notoriously, Grace Street’s Strange Matter closed its doors in 2018. The space was a hub for all things underground, alternative and hardcore for nearly a decade. 

929 W Grace St has held many names throughout decades — dating as far back as when Grace Street was known for punk bars and porn theatres — but is currently being held hostage by land owners unwilling to develop it. Bands still cover the empty building’s glass walls with show fliers to this day.

Closures of these spaces that were central to Richmond’s rave and underground music scene in past years coincide with the introduction of new venues. 

Tamia Franklin, better known in the rave community as srryforpartyrockin, started spinning sounds last year. She credits the shift to the cutdown on venues in Richmond, especially around VCU, the change in attendees and their attitudes and fewer events being planned by DIY organizers. 

The rave scene has become more mainstream, causing event prices to rise, Franklin said. The responsibility to create a safe and affordable DIY space that does not get shut down before it starts is becoming increasingly harder. 

“I threw a rave once, and I was charging $15 at the door, and low-key I never want to do that again, because I would never pay $15 for an underground show,” Franklin said. “Nowadays, people are charging like $20-$25 and we’re college kids, and most of the rave scene is. We’re not here to spend money, we’re here to enjoy the music and enjoy the community.” 

The rave scene follows the core ideas of “plur” — peace, love, unity and respect — but the crowd brought in by new venues values those principles less and less, Franklin said. 

Moving to bigger, more corporate spaces

The Camel and The Canal Club — more established, older spaces — are noted by Forbes as iconic venues frequented by less mainstream artists, naming Richmond as “The Underground Music City Everyone Needs to Visit.” Spots like The National and The Broadberry have hosted musicians of nearly every genre. 

Newer concert spaces like Allianz Amphitheater and Ember Music Hall have popped up around town and have been criticized for high prices, a lack of music tailored to Richmonders and for being created by out-of-town developers. 

According to Elika Nikouee, a fire spinner and frequent raver, Richmond’s electronic dance music and flow scene was dormant from 2018 to 2023. 

A resurgence in the scene started out with smaller DJs hosting events at DIY venues, then it grew into something new. 

“There was like no scene from like, 2018 to 2023, and then 2023 the scene started and it really blew up in 2023 and this year,” Nikouee said. “Huge artists are starting to come to Richmond, we’re starting to become [a] really bigger scene/EDM hub.”

Nikouee credits the resurgence of the underground scene to MEEP, a Richmond-based DJ. He started hosting events himself, inviting other DJs to collaborate with him and use his own equipment, sparking a continuously growing community. 

LOSO, the speakeasy-style club behind Thai restaurant Sabai, welcomes DJs every weekend. The space reopened in 2024 out of what was formerly known as The Jungle Room, and also focuses on electronic or EDM. 

What we stand to lose

Paige Advocate-Ross and their roommates have been hosting shows at their home, The Rabbit Hole, since 2022. It is one of the last-standing house venues for alternative music left in Randolph following the closures of Spiral Mansion and the Cactus Shack.

Advocate-Ross said they created the venue after seeing how unsafe Richmond’s scene was for women. They wanted to host various genres to showcase all of the city’s music.

The Rabbit Hole has held a Planned Parenthood fundraiser and a community organizing night, where they distributed food, period products, clothes and pamphlets with various resources. 

More established venues typically have higher ticket prices, causing a financial barrier for some, Advocate-Ross said. However, they hope larger venues will allow local bands more of a platform, playing with the bigger names coming in. Many DIY organizers are still involved in the scene, just in different ways. 

Advocate-Ross said they are unsure if bigger venues have resources like naloxone and fentanyl testing strips available, but they have seen an increase in drug use and addiction. 

“I think it’s just so important to get people out of corporate spaces,” Advocate-Ross said. “When you’re at a DIY venue, whether it be under a bridge or someone’s house or like the backyard or something, it feels like you’re just kind of in someone’s space with everyone else.”