“When [President Ronald] Reagan entered office,” says punk elder statesman Mark Andersen, “it provided a focal point, like a physical embodiment of the things that we opposed.”

Andersen makes that observation to WAMU reporter Patrick Madden in a story that aired Tuesday. The co-founder of D.C. activist group Positive Force says that in some ways, the Reagan era energized punk in D.C. And some say the same could happen under President Trump.

Visit the WAMU homepage to hear Madden’s story, “Could D.C. Punk Thrive Under President Trump?” The sound-rich feature includes interviews with Andersen, Ian MacKaye of Fugazi and Minor Threat, filmmaker Robin Bell and Jason Mogavero of rabble-rousing D.C. band Jack On Fire.

Citing its “unique mix of breakneck-paced hardcore punk and dubby reggae,” the Hall included the band Tuesday on a list that also proposes Tupac Shakur, Pearl Jam, Jane’s Addiction and Depeche Mode among first-time nominees. Bad Brains not only set a standard for speed and fury, but it also had an all-African-American lineup in a genre generally dominated by white musicians. (Above: Live At CBGB 1982, featuring the band in its prime.)

Often imitated, never duplicated: the cover of Bad Brains from 1982.

A nomination is just the start of the process — actual induction comes via a vote by more than 600 historians, artists and music industry figures. If Bad Brains is inducted this year, it would be the first D.C. hardcore band to make the Hall, although one product of D.C.’s hardcore scene, Dave Grohl, was inducted in 2014 as a member of Nirvana. (Another legendary underground rock band, the MC5, is back on the list this year after receiving an unsuccessful nomination in 2003.)

Bad Brains was in the news earlier this year as family and friends launched a campaign to help fund medical care for frontman H.R., who was diagnosed in late 2015 with a rare and painful disorder called SUNCT.

The 2012 documentary Bad Brains: A Band In D.C. traced the band’s complicated history, from its roaring appearance on the D.C. punk scene in the late 1970s, through its move to New York in the 1980s, and into a phase in the ’90s and ’00s that included disagreements among members. (H.R. and two of the filmmakers appeared on WAMU 88.5’s The Kojo Nnamdi Show in 2012.)

Beyond Bad Brains’ musical influence on bands such as Minor Threat (and by extension, Fugazi) and the Beastie Boys, the cover art for the group’s 1982 self-titled album — with its image of a jagged lightning bolt striking the U.S. Capitol — has inspired countless homages.

That has happened to Nox, the emerging D.C. punk trio whose members are still in their teens.

“There’s nothing that really separates us [from other bands] besides our age,” says guitarist and vocalist Anna Wilson, 16. “I think the only limiting thing is that we can’t tour and we have trouble getting paid at times.”

That won’t last forever. The members of Nox know what they’re doing. That’s clear from their music, particularly the band’s latest song. On “Entitled,” the group’s rolling guitar lines, pounding bass throbs and chilly vocals come together for a seasoned, familiar sound. If anything could betray the musicians’ age, it may be their lyrics, which exude a certain millennial ennui.

“Nox is angst-central,” says drummer Claire Lewis, 15.

Wilson, Lewis and bassist and vocalist Stella Green, 18, formed Nox under the guidance of Ex Hex leader Mary Timony. The trio’s music has all the makings of a classic D.C. punk-rock band — head-banging instrumentals, pointed lyrics and production credits from Timony and ex-Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty, whom they met through family and friends — and they’ve already played a few high-profile gigs, sharing the stage with established bands Waxahatchee, Downtown Boys and Priests.

Wilson and Lewis, along with 18-year-old bassist and vocalist Stella Green, have made music together since 2009. They started out playing covers of The Go-Go’s but eventually developed their own material. Green and Wilson wrote their first songs in middle school.

“When I was in the 7th grade, I was getting into a lot of punk music that was political,” Wilson says. “But the thing was, I was in the 7th grade, so I didn’t have a lot of politics. I would just write about how much I hated standardized testing.”

They had always wanted to record their music, but it took some time to muster up the money to do it. So they saved up money from shows and T-shirt sales.

Asked about the band’s savings plan, Green says, “We had a box.”

“It’s a shoebox,” Wilson adds.

In the past few years, Nox has strived for independence, with Wilson handling most of the band’s bookings. She’s also been studying up on how to get a tax ID and fill out W9 forms.

Beyond business, Nox’s love of yesteryear rock runs deep. Lewis’ first concert was Cyndi Lauper and The B-52’s. Green cites a love for Queen and the similarities between her hair and that of Brian May. With shaking hands, Wilson credits Joan Jett for giving her a “formative music-listening experience.”

“The first music that I got passionate about was punk music,” Wilson says.

“[Punk is] best for a live show, too,” Green adds. “It’s very fun and very intense.”

Green leaves for New York University in August, which might put Nox on hiatus. But the band is staying busy in the meantime. Nox has a seven-song release — called Space Candy — planned for this summer, plus plenty of shows.

“Anyone can do this,” Lewis says with a smile. “People think that to get shows and to play music and be a band, they have to be some kind of prodigy or really, really, really amazing or have to know everyone. But it’s really not true.”

Wilson concurs. “It makes me sad to see people who have music in them to think, ‘Oh, I just need to wait for somebody. Something will happen and if nobody reaches out to me, I’m not good enough and I should just quit.’ That’s not true.”

“Make people listen to your music,” the high school sophomore says, grinning.

Nox plays June 26 at VFW Post No. 350 in Takoma Park and July 9 at Hole in the Sky in D.C.

Often, Gray’s destination is a punk show. The 34-year-old has been infatuated with hardcore and punk rock since his teenage days in Ellicott City. But after years of traveling to shows, only to be impeded by a staircase or an inaccessible bathroom once he arrived, Gray resolved to do something about it.

In 2014, Gray started a website called Is This Venue Accessible? that provides detailed accessibility information for venues around Baltimore and D.C. Since then, the site has expanded to 26 cities, including Glasgow, Scotland, and Osaka, Japan. Now Gray is taking his project to the next level, launching an app that will serve the same purpose. He expects to debut the app later this year.

Gray’s efforts have sparked a larger conversation about accessibility as a social-justice issue, particularly in regional punk scenes. I recently chatted with Gray about the broader impact of inaccessibility and how his app aims to take the stress out of concertgoing for people with disabilities.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

On the true purpose of “Is This Venue Accessible?”:

Sean Gray: I would love to see all venues be accessible, but [Is This Venue Accessible?] is not about changing venues. It’s about providing information that there’s a lack of. If there’s no accessibility information, I have to automatically default to “it’s probably not accessible.”

I took a cab to [D.C. venue] DC9, and it’s my first time going there, and when I saw those steps I just hailed a cab and went back home. The retort for some people would be, “Well, you could just ask someone to help you.” But that’s not as easy as it sounds. For some people they’re comfortable doing that and others aren’t. It shouldn’t be that way. I shouldn’t have to ask for help to go see art. Art and music and culture should be accessible to everybody.

On what accessibility means to him:

When I was a younger teen and in my early 20s, I didn’t really know what a disability was, and I didn’t know how to own that and how that affected me and how the world — the physical world — affects me. I just took the blame myself. ITVA provides information to give you a better guide to go out and actually experience music and art and culture. To me, accessibility isn’t about physical spaces. Full accessibility is about having access to culture and aspects of life that go far beyond getting into a physical building. And I think when you cut that off from a segment of people, it’s hurtful and bad for society.

When I’m not able to get to a show, I don’t just take it as being inaccessible. What that promoter, building or band is saying to me is, “You’re just not allowed to go to this show.” It sounds harsh, but that’s the reality that I and many other people with disabilities live with every single day.

“I’ve been lucky enough to see shows that have changed my life, but I also wonder how many shows I’ve had to miss that could have changed my life.”

On the lack of awareness around young people with disabilities:

Accessibility isn’t really a sexy concept. We’re going through a political election, and I assure you, you will not hear any politician on any side talk about accessibility and disability in young people. You’ve got young people and babies used as inspiration porn, and then you’ve got older people who are disabled, and there’s this gap in between. So there’s this blank space of representation for people with disabilities, and that’s why it’s very rare to see people with disabilities going to shows.

I’ve had promoters or bar owners say that they just don’t see people with disabilities there, and my response has been that you would see people with disabilities at these venues if you actually provided them with the information necessary to come.

On how inaccessibility hampers personal enrichment:

I did a talk at SXSW… and I asked the crowd, “How many of you here can say that you’ve gone to a show that’s changed your life?” Everybody raised their hand. Then I said, “Imagine if the show that changed your life, you weren’t allowed to go to. Not because your parents said you couldn’t go, and not because you had to work, but because you just couldn’t get in. That happens all the time to people with disabilities.” I’ve been lucky enough to see shows that have changed my life, but I also wonder how many shows I’ve had to miss that could have changed my life.

On accessibility as an overlooked social-justice issue:

We live in an age where there are a lot of bands, for good reason, talking about inclusion and oppression, and that’s great. But the thing that always seems to be lacking is accessibility. I saw a drawing once, and it was like a DIY house, and on the front it said, “We do not tolerate homophobia, sexism, racism, ageism,” and everything else, and the way to get into the house were these broken, rickety steps.

On the ambitious goals of the “Is This Venue Accessible?” app:

I’m trying to give the user the total experience of going to a show and planning that out. I want to build an app that I want to use, so anywhere in the world it’s connected to Google Maps, it knows where I am, which venues are around me, which venues have accessibility information, what information I need to make my choice to go to that show. I could have put together an app that just reflects the website, but that’s not the goal. It’s not just about changing attitudes about going to shows for people with disabilities, but making it an experience that is less stressful and less worrisome.

On how punk drove him to make a difference:

Punk has taught me that if nobody is going to do it for you, you do it yourself. ITVA was born out of my frustration of not being able to experience what I love the most — being told that I couldn’t be a part of it. I just wouldn’t settle for that.

When you have a disability, you’re sort of thought of to not be angry, to not be emotional, to not be sexual. There are things that you’re just not allowed to have, and you’re socialized to enjoy the fact that you can just get out of the house — or that you’re alive. In anything that I’ve done, [I’ve been determined] not to settle. It’s OK to be disabled and angry, or to want to see a band and not have to feel like this is a privilege that somebody’s helping you.

I want this site and this app to make people think differently. I think things are changing, and it’ll be a good wake-up call for bands and venues that haven’t thought of this or taken it seriously.

Listen: Sean Gray discusses accessibility on WAMU’s Kojo Nnamdi Show

Derived from punk and hardcore, gang vocals are ostensibly group shout-alongs, wherein the studded choir responds to or joins the frontman with rapturous, violent barks. Even though gang vocals can extend to ska and metal, they rarely appear in pop music — or rather, when a pop song claims this sacred style, it’s sterilized. On its second album, The Dream Is Over, the Toronto band PUP moves beyond its punk beginnings and turns into an anthemic and unhinged pop band. Oh, and there are gang vocals in nearly every track.

Where PUP’s 2014 self-titled debut was a turbulent affair, The Dream Is Over sounds more controlled. Not that there isn’t emotional turbulence here — in fact, much of Dream is about disillusionment, growing up and realizing that you can’t get everything you want, starting with your bandmates. “If this tour doesn’t kill you, then I will,” guitarist Stefan Babcock meekly deadpans in the first moments of the album, before the track explodes into a bar-brawling punk sing-along. It’s a hell of a way to open, but it’s telling that in the moments when PUP’s members need each other most — especially when Babcock yells, “But every line, every goddamn syllable that you say / Makes me wanna gouge out my eyes with a power drill” — they’ve got each other’s backs by shouting a response, no matter how thoroughly messed-up.

After screaming every night for two years on tour, Babcock learned from a doctor that his vocal cords were shredded. (“The dream is over” were the words the doctor apparently used.) So to survive the BS that life throws PUP’s members — Babcock on guitar and vocals, Nestor Chumak on bass, Zack Mykula on drums and Steve Sladkowski on guitar — they counter with dark humor and severe self-deprecation. This might be a standard millennial self-defense mechanism, but it works to PUP’s benefit as deranged and heavy riffs tangle around crashing drums. The chaotically catchy “DVP” features a loser who calls up his girlfriend’s sister, presumably drunk, with ohh-ohhh’s that run away with the hyperactive chorus. The closing bait-and-switch — “She says that I drink too much / Hawaiian Fruit Punch / She says I need to grow up” — borders on the too-clever, but the gang vocal offers it up as a willfully silly nod to adolescence instead of as a knowing wink.

The jokes turn shades darker as The Dream Is Over carries on. The mariachi-flavored “Sleep In The Heat” mourns a failed relationship by way of the family car’s death. It does the thing Pixies did without sounding at all like the Pixies, taking a heavy pop song about a heavy subject and buoying it with a spirited rhythm. “The Coast,” with its bummer riffs and dive-bombing Drive Like Jehu-inspired switchbacks, looks to the ice thaw of the Great White North to find dead bodies, ending up as a metaphor for how life swallows you whole: “The lake gives us life and she takes it back.” With a gigantic flag-waving chorus, “Can’t Win” could easily be a Paramore anthem written for stadiums — except the flag is white, signaling surrender. “And it feels like I can’t win / I’m growing up and I’m giving in / And it’s starting to hurt.”

“Pine Point,” a lighters-up ballad about an abandoned Canadian mine, somehow offers hope in a deteriorating world. On such a lyrically and musically bombastic record, the song feels remarkably nuanced in the way it deals with death and memories, ultimately prizing a personal relationship. No one screams, but the implication is felt deeply. In spite of all of the confusion and sadness that surrounds The Dream Is Over, there’s a communal and cathartic fellowship to these songs, even if that means scrambling over heads to grab the mic and shout along.

Copyright 2016 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Hardcore, and D.C. hardcore in particular, has a rep for being stuck in the past. But it stays fresh by continually creating new pasts to draw from. A few years back, bands like Coke Bust brought the early ’80s thrashy style of hardcore back into vogue. But there are others reviving the mid-’80s melody of Dag Nasty, the late ’80s aggression of Swiz and the late-’90s chug of Damnation A.D. Soon there will be late ’00s tribute bands to Coke Bust, too. The logical endpoint is to be, to paraphrase The Onion, nostalgic for bands that don’t exist yet.

This Was My Night & This Was a Lot of Other Nights is another chapter in the scene’s love affair with itself, though an entertaining and necessary one. Editors Tim Follos and Hussain Mohammed compile show reviews and interviews from Follos’ blog Day After Day DC, covering the past decade — the most recent era of harDCore. It reads like a blog, in good ways and bad: The energy of the house shows reviewed (though “lovingly described” is more accurate; Follos has hardly an unkind word for anyone) is palpable, and he draws from a depth of knowledge and eye for detail only a true fan could.

At the same time, the long personal asides, shout-outs and inside jokes (most involving Sick Fix‘s Pat Vogel) remind you this was written by and for a small group of friends who all hang out and play in bands together.

This Was My Night isn’t so much about a particular city or era, but rather a particular crowd of 20-something, group-house-dwelling, radical politics-having, dog-walking, (ex-)vegan straight edge punx dedicated to putting on shows in makeshift spaces on shoestring budgets.

So the 12-page review of the 2013 Damaged City Fest that opens the book is kind of overkill. And for a book aiming to document an era that produced hundreds of local bands, a lot of the same ones show up again and again — Ilsa and The Max Levine Ensemble, both terrific bands, but reflective of the authors’ personal preferences.

There are a lot of others from that period that don’t appear, either for taking a different punk-derived trajectory, or just being in different social circles. They include Deathfix, Mass Movement of the Moth, The Apes, The Shirks, The Cassettes, Medications, Imperial China and the whole Sockets Records roster. Today, as always, there isn’t one D.C. punk scene, there are many scenes, and they don’t always communicate well with each other.

‘This Was My Night & This Was A Lot of Other Nights,’ back cover

This Was My Night isn’t so much about a particular city or era, but rather a particular crowd of 20-something, group-house-dwelling, radical politics-having, dog-walking, (ex-)vegan straight edge punx dedicated to putting on shows in makeshift spaces on shoestring budgets. And in that sense, it’s really about one band, Coke Bust, whose members and fellow super-promoters Chris Moore and Nick Candela (aka Nick Tape, who’s since moved to Brazil) held this scene together mostly by themselves through sheer force of will.

Thus one of the best pieces in the book is by Nick Tape, in which he describes the benefits of booking shows at the Corpse Fortress, the famously filthy, hot, dilapidated Silver Spring house that put on memorable shows until the neighbors finally got sick of the ruckus and got them all evicted.

“As a promoter, access to a venue with no rules and no set fee is enormously helpful,” Tape writes. “The lack of a fee allows promoters of shows with mediocre turnout to still pay bands somewhat respectable amounts at the end of the night.”

The second half of the book is made up of interviews with familiar punk figures, some of which are more lucid than others (Bad Brains’ H.R. is, predictably, in another world). There’s a bittersweet chat with the now-deceased Dave Brockie of Gwar. There’s a theological discussion with Positive Force co-founder (and fellow scene historian) Mark Andersen. There’s the requisite Ian MacKaye interview — a surprisingly unique one given the man must give dozens of interviews a month — in which he takes a deep dive into the history of Georgetown.

Follos is a skilled interviewer, able to draw out rich personal stories without being too much of the fanboy that he is (and most of us who read the book are). He can also be mischievous, asking Brian Baker, “Why is it necessary for Bad Religion to have three guitarists?” and getting Ian Svenonius to accidentally agree with conservative columnist George Will.

It’s fair to wonder whether a book like this needs to exist, especially for a genre saturated in self-documentation — and especially today, when many of the bands documented still exist, and a lot of the material is already accessible online. But I’d say it does. Given the book’s ultra-insider perspective, the target readership seems to be the 50 or so people who already appear in the book.

But only an insider could tell the story of the Bobby Fisher Memorial Building, another DIY space that the Borf graffiti collective jury rigged and briefly put on art installations and punk shows before it inevitably got shut down: “Towards the end, they cut our power, because we were stealing power from a neighbor who was also stealing power,” writes Chris Moore. “We ran over 15 shows on generators. Cops never shut down the shows… Seeing 20 people installing soundproofing and insulation… that’s awesome.”

The authors of This Was My Night & This Was a Lot of Other Nights host a book-release party Monday, April 25 at Black Cat with Scanners and Mirror Motives.

According to H.R.’s wife, Lori Carns Hudson, the veteran performer (aka Paul Hudson) was diagnosed in December with a rare and painful condition called SUNCT, which stands for short-lasting, unilateral neuralgiform headache attacks with conjunctival injection and tearing.

“He’s been getting headaches for about 10 years,” says Hudson, who lives with H.R. in Philadelphia. “He used to think they were migraines but it’s been very, very strange. They’ve progressively gotten worse until they culminated in November [to the point] where he’s just constantly in pain.”

The couple’s friend, Brian Marsh, started a GoFundMe campaign Monday to help Hudson cover her husband’s medical treatment and other expenses. The campaign aims to raise $30,000.

Hudson says H.R., who has struggled with physical and mental issues for years, is unable to work.

“He goes out and takes a very brief walk every day,” she says, “but he mostly just relaxes and watches TV.”

Hudson supports him with income from her retail job, and she’s begun selling H.R. artwork (like the above) for extra money. Meanwhile, her insurance covers some of her husband’s medical expenses. But conventional treatment has only helped so much.

“We’ve been through a lot of doctors … [and] the medical community does not understand this specific type of headache,” she says. She would like to try herbal remedies — Hudson herself is an herbalist — but those aren’t covered by health insurance.

Money raised from the GoFundMe campaign would help pay for alternative treatment and other expenses, like traveling to see medical specialists.

Friends have suggested that H.R. try psychoactive drugs like LSD and psilocybin mushrooms, but Hudson rejects the idea.

“He would never do any kind of psychoactive drugs,” Hudson says. “So it’s not something that we will be trying.” But she adds that they are looking into CBD oil, a common medical marijuana treatment.

Hudson says despite H.R.’s chronic pain, he maintains a positive outlook. “He really does live that PMA,” she says, referring to Bad Brains’ philosophy of a positive mental attitude. “He still has a smile on his face every day — even though he’s spending most of the night sobbing and crying out because the pain is just so much.”

So far, the campaign for H.R. has raised nearly $6,000.

There is also an ongoing GoFundMe campaign to raise money for Dr. Know, the Bad Brains guitarist who suffered a heart attack and organ failure last year. That campaign has raised more than $40,000 since it launched last week.

This weekend the two musicians, who play in Northern Virginia pop-punk band American Television, are putting on the inaugural Breakin’ Even Fest at Songbyrd Music House & Record Cafe in D.C.

“As we’ve gotten into our 30s and life has progressed,” Flowers says, “it’s gotten harder and harder to do some of the touring and other things that bands do.” But that doesn’t mean they’re bowing out of music altogether.

Taking place March 4 and 5, Breakin’ Even Fest will feature more than a dozen bands from across the D.C. region, including local favorites Lilac Daze and Loud Boyz, as well as New York rockers Iron Chic and Timeshares.

The fest focuses on tuneful punk rock, a style Flowers says he doesn’t encounter enough in the D.C. scene.

“There’s a lot going on in D.C. already,” the drummer says, “but we saw a little bit of a void in the music that we really like — melodic pop-punk with a little bit of a hard edge.”

D.C.’s biggest punk festival, Damaged City, specializes in a faster and more aggressive side of the music. Flowers says that fest “is really great, but it’s not really the music that Steve and I like.”

To help pay for the event, Rovery and Flowers have arranged a number of local sponsors, including Mobius Records and vinyl-pressing company Furnace Manufacturing, which have each donated merchandise to be raffled off over the course of the weekend. Rovery says each “mystery merch pack,” given away a few times each night, will be worth around $200.

In addition to the ticket prices — an affordable $27.50 for the entire weekend — proceeds from the raffles will go directly to the bands. Rovery and Flowers won’t be taking any for themselves.

“We came up with the name Breakin’ Even is because our goal is to break even,” Rovery says, “but first and foremost we need to make sure the bands get paid.”

Breakin’ Even Fest takes place March 4 to 5 at Songbyrd Music House and Record Cafe in Adams Morgan.

Returning for its fourth edition April 7 to 10, the all-ages fest will take place at All Souls Unitarian Church, Calvary Methodist Church, Black Cat and the Pinch, all located in Northwest D.C.

Organizers are also adding 10 more bands to the already robust schedule. (See a list below.)

Tickets can be scooped at Ticketfly, D.C. record stores Smash Records and Joint Custody, Celebrated Summer Records in Baltimore and Vinyl Conflict in Richmond. A limited supply of discounted three- and two-day passes are also available.

Damaged City Fest has grown both in size and reputation since it debuted in D.C. in 2013. Bookers Chris Moore and Nick “Tape” Candela have stepped up their game for this year’s round, flying in Japanese hardcore legends Systematic Death for the occasion.

Also on the docket: lots of vegan food.

Latest additions to Damaged City Fest’s 2016 lineup in bold:

Zero Boys (Indiana)
Systematic Death (Japan)
The Avengers (California)
Sheer Mag (Pennsylvania)
Tau Cross (England)
Youth Avoiders (France)
Disguise (Ireland)
La Urss (Spain)
S.H.I.T. (Canada)
Blood Pressure (Pennsylvania)
Coke Bust (D.C.)
The Goons (D.C.)
Eel (Pennsylvania)
Caught in a Crowd (Massachusetts)
Dame (Massachusetts)
Torso (California)
Post Teens (Florida)
Rubbish (Florida)
Stalled Minds (France)
Triage (Canada)
Gaucho (Canada)
Busted Outlook (California)
Genocide Pact (D.C.)
The Pessimists (Brazil)
Sem Hastro (Brazil/U.S.)
Holder’s Scar (North Carolina)
Digital Octopus (France)
Firing Squad (Virginia)
Protester (D.C.)
Depths of Reality (Massachusetts)
Firewalker (Massachusetts)
Drug Control (California)
Odd Man Out (Washington)
Bricklayer (Washington)
Stand Off (D.C.)
Homosuperior (D.C.)
Radiation Risks (New York)
Bust Off (D.C.0
Kombat (D.C.)
Collusion (D.C.)

D.C. punk band Priests will headline a benefit show Friday at 411 New York Ave. NE, the location of the arts facility slated to become a boutique hotel. Also on the bill are experimental duo Janel and Anthony, synthesizer musician Adriana-Lucia Cotes and Ian Svenonius‘ solo project, Escape-ism.

The building on New York Avenue has operated under the name Union Arts since 2013, serving as a work and practice space for musicians and artists. Before that, it was used regularly for underground concerts and dance parties. But property taxes on the building became too high for the previous owners, and they sold the property last summer.

D.B. Lee Development, Inc. Construction and Brook Rose Development, LLC, purchased Union Arts in June 2015. They later announced plans to transform 411 New York Ave. NE into a high-end hotel with eight studios and other art spaces managed by the nonprofit CulturalDC. But up to 100 artists use the building on a rotating basis, according to supporters, and the new configuration is likely to push many of them out.

Supporters of Union Arts packed a zoning commission hearing Feb. 1. Many offered testimony about the scarcity of affordable arts space in D.C., which has rapidly gentrified in the last 15 years.

Janel Leppin of Janel and Anthony says the outpouring of support inspired her, and she decided to organize a show to bring attention to the situation.

“More than anything,” Leppin says, she wanted to “raise awareness for the need for spaces for artists in D.C.”

A flyer for Friday’s Union Arts benefit show

Leppin has performed at Union Arts numerous times. She says when choosing bands for the benefit concert, she picked acts who have been involved in the space in some way.

Priests fit that description. The band’s members have set up shows at Union Arts and two of them testified Feb. 1 on the importance of Union Arts to local music.

“It’s definitely a hub of music activity,” says Priests singer Katie Alice Greer in an interview. “It is a unique building right now in D.C. in certain ways. There aren’t a whole lot of other spaces left that are not private homes or businesses. … There’s not a lot of middle-ground spaces where people are actively making art and putting on shows for any band that they think is cool and interesting — in a way that’s not really driven by alcohol sales.”

But saving the building as it is now may not be feasible. According to Gail Harris, managing member of the LLC that sold Union Arts last year, the rent paid by artists did not cover the building’s property taxes. The new owners have asked the current tenants to vacate by Sept. 1. (Though at the hearing, D.B. Lee President Dennis Lee said that date may be flexible.)

CulturalDC says the new studios will accommodate “up to 20-plus artists” who can apply in an open call. Developers point out that musicians will also be considered for art spaces.

But current tenants are still challenging the redevelopment plans. Leppin says proceeds from Friday’s show will help the building’s artists with “whatever cost[s] they are faced with.” She later writes in an email that funds should go to help artists who are trying to find new studio space.

“We will raise the money to help Union Arts continue its work as an arts venue and basically a community center for the public — for as long as it can,” Leppin writes.

Desirée Venn Frederic, founder of vintage shop Nomad Yard Collectiv, which operates out of Union Arts, says that means lawyer’s fees. “In our current fight we acknowledge we need legal support and legal guidance,” she says.

The number of people who signed up to give public testimony Feb. 1 was so great that a second zoning commission hearing was scheduled for Feb. 23. Leppin says she hopes Friday’s show sparks enough interest to overwhelm that hearing, too.

The benefit concert for Union Arts takes place Feb. 19 at 411 New York Ave. NE. 8:30 p.m.

Top image: Protestors at a Feb. 1 zoning commission hearing on the planned redevelopment of Union Arts.