To the casual passerby, Maxwell’s looks like just about every other restaurant along Washington Street in Hoboken, N.J., not to say that it doesn’t succeed as such—their food is top notch (their quesadillas are awesome), and their bar is well stocked.
Yet the restaurant provides the perfect cover for the indie concert venue in the back room of the building, much like a speakeasy during Prohibition. Nestled neatly in the back end of the building, the single dimly lit rectangle of a back room seems like nothing much at first. A few steps sweep along the far wall and wrap to the back, ending just before a small bar with red and white Christmas lights coiled around the liquor bottles. The stage is set back, like an accidental recessed opening in a wall, and is small to say the least.
When filled with a band and a decent-sized crowd, the place explodes into life. Standing about seven feet from the stage, a small crowd began to build after the first band’s set had wrapped up. The Gay Blades were about to take the stage, and the sound check proved to be more than some of the girls could handle. A small group of girls screamed as the drummer kept a fancy little rhythm with the base drum while the crew adjusted the volume. Once the consistency of a soft punch to the stomach was achieved, the band ripped into action.
The acoustics at Maxwell’s are rich and full, without anything getting lost in high rafters or awkward art-deco styling that other clubs flock to for flavor. Maxwell’s lets the bands do all the talking. There were only two guys on the stage, one with a guitar and another seated at his modest drum set, but the wall of sound they produced was incredible. The vocals were piercing and poignant, floating around the intricate guitar work, all of which were driven by the constantly pounding drums. Faced with the option to either rock with the beat or be blown to the back wall, I rocked the set away. The setup of Maxwell’s offers little other choice, as the assault of sound hits hard and allows no one to escape until the band steps off the stage in a hot, sweaty mess and the crowd can collectively breathe.
Chris Gibson, guitarist for High Speed Chase and (currently) Della Valle, said via e-mail, “Todd and all the staff [at Maxwell’s] are the best, and there’s no other place like it. I toured the world as a sound engineer/tour manager [for Quicksand, Handsome, Salt, Fireside, Orange 9mm, CIV, Glassjaw, Helmet, Local H, Reach] all through the ’90s, and there wasn’t one venue that came close.”
Gibson also mentioned the impact Maxwell’s has had on the area. “Maxwell’s put Hoboken back on the map after the luster drained away post-Sinatra and On the Waterfront. It drew many low-budget, working-class musicians and artists like myself into the wild west that was Hoboken in the ’80s.”
Maxwell’s had started its life as a simple tavern, servicing many of the workers from the Maxwell House coffee factory that was a block away. Years ago, it was transformed into a restaurant. Seemingly on a whim, a band who rented the backroom to practice asked if they could perform for the restaurant’s patrons.
Maxwell’s underwent a failed attempt by the owners to make it into a sports bar and was revived to its current state. As Gibson said, “It seems the double-digit-IQ types would rather stay downtown and keep the Hoboken police busy with their best Ultimate Fighting impressions outside of the bars that offered the best Red Bull and Stoli specials.”
Few venues I have been to come close to Maxwell’s. It has the feel of a New Brunswick basement show, sans the cigarette and weed smoke and the ridiculously low ceilings, in a setting that is more accessible to everyday music fans. It is impossible to feel the same way in a huge stadium or arena. At Maxwell’s, you’re a few feet away from a musician who is playing his heart out on stage. As Gibson describes it, “It was as simple as performing in your friend’s garage—only your friend just happened to have a kick-ass PA, a fully stocked bar and a nice kitchen.”
“I remember the last time I was here,” said Brian Bonz, the energetic frontman of Brian Bonz and the Dot Hongs, after they finished the second song in their set. I was still in awe that they had managed to cram seven people onto the tiny stage at Maxwell’s, as it seems to have been designed with four people in mind. “I was a little drunk.”
“You were fucking wasted,” chimes in someone from the audience.
“All right, I was wasted. We finished the setup, and for some reason I decided to help take down the drum set.” Bonz picked up an invisible drum and held it in front of his chest. “So I have the drum, and I’m stepping for the milk crate.” He exaggeratedly stepped where the milk crate rested against the stage. The distance from the stage to the worn linoleum tile floor wasn’t all that great, but it’s clear that the crate would have helped. “And the crate’s not fucking there. Needless to say, I fall a little and wind up sort of impaled by the drum. I think we got to the hospital the next day. I’m so glad to be back here.”
Maxwell’s has quite a reputation among musicians. Jim Testa, editor of Jersey Beat and music aficionado, explains that playing at Maxwell’s is “considered a prestige gig. In a music scene with very few benchmarks left to measure a local band’s success, playing there means something, both to fans and to the music industry.”
In a time when the record industry is flailing and increasingly difficult to get into, live shows are quickly becoming the lifeblood for many hungry, young bands. Places like Maxwell’s are too few and far between, especially in the tristate area. Just about no other venue in current operation (RIP CBGB) has the prestige or the accessibility for musicians and music fans alike. Shows at Maxwell’s are decently priced and varied, a breath of fresh air from New York’s excessively decadent venues and the high prices that come with them. And very few venues offer up the intimate setting where bands such as R.E.M., The Feelies, Yo La Tengo, Hüsker Dü and The Ergs! have graced the stage.
As Testa concluded, “It’s not just another gig—it’s a Maxwell’s show.”
Zachary Huff is a Rutgers-Newark student. Posted September 2008.
