SLC Punk 

• Courtesy Photo

If you're an avid concert-goer, or something close, there're a few nights a year that reinforce the idea that it's important to leave the house, to find someplace new, different, exciting. Here's an example.

A day before the show, I was texted a flyer for an April 8 event at a venue called Black Lung Society (740 W. 1700 South). It contained the names of four bands with local ties: The Zissous, Sleep Cult, Ace 52, Admitted Bastard. Intriguing enough, and on a wide-open Friday night—count me in!

As we showed up, it was obvious that this was a non-traditional, warehouse-style show, with cars parked on a couple of different office lots. On one of them, a car's back hatch was cranked open, music flowing. A few folks were hanging out and smoking in small pods, while more music was sneaking out from inside a lighted doorway. Clues were strung together. This was the place.

The second of the scheduled four bands, Sleep Cult, had just started inside the black box-styled venue of Black Lung Society, a crowd of 50 pushed up to within a few feet of the group. Two young fans were slamming into one another with joyous abandon, sometimes joined by a third. As someone who saw the explosion of grunge as a young concertgoer from 1991-1995, what was happening here was eye- and ear-popping. It's as if Sleep Cult had teleported from a garage show in early '90s Seattle, Austin or Boston, their influences clearly owing a debt to Sub Pop's finest hour. Wow.

What was happening didn't feel like a simple show; it felt like a scene. From the kinship on the parking lot to the collective spirit of bands moving gear, this place had a vibe unlike your average concert space.

Black Lung Society is operated by Julius Gray. He created it in the spirit of independent rooms that have allowed countless American bands a first place to play, while providing fans a low-dollar, safe environment to enjoy shows that freely mash-up genres, or that book to a very specific, niche audience.

"I myself have never really felt like I belonged amongst a majority of my other peers," Gray writes of his space. "But going to local all-ages venues in my youth, I felt a bit of respite and solidarity amongst like-minded individuals who offered a new perspective on life. In simpler terms: We are the haven for subculture, whether it be hardcore, punk, metal, hip-hop, etc. Everyone is welcome here, especially those who do not feel like they fit elsewhere. We have a strong underage presence within our community and for as long as I have been attending shows (since I was 14), many of them deal with ostracization from either their peers or elders and it is of the utmost importance to have their presence and voice respected and heard."

As Black Lung is located within a non-residential zone, the space—active since Sept. 4, 2021 of last year—has put fans in charge of the culture, both inside and outside the club. As if in nature, the idea here is to leave no trace, to treat the venue and its neighboring ecosystem with a light touch.

"It's difficult to run a business like ours and please everyone," Gray notes. "Our community distinctly understands their behaviors reflect on us. And, as such, we have a lot of people who hold each other accountable; it's about treating everyone with respect."

On this night, all four bands onstage were their own animals, different from one another in important respects, though the varied audiences circulated back into the room as each took the stage. It was a fascinating, varied thing to watch, to experience.

"I've had a death metal band thrown into the middle of a rap show," Gray says. "I've had rappers thrown into metal shows. It's a blast, and that's the point. I love letting bands throw together their bills too; it's just kinda 'whatever works.'"

A young band called Ace 52 would play an energetic set between Sleep Cult and the night's headliner, Admitted Bastard. By the time that last set began, the crowd grew to around 100 people. A pit formed. The longest-haired members of the audience stood directly in front of the band, cascades of hair swinging in big, impressive circles. The rest of the crowd was head-nodding, swaying, swept up in the glorious noise that this Salt Lake City instrumental metal band was offering to them through ridiculous amounts of both speed and skill. No two ways about it, Admitted Bastard is special.

As is the unassuming room that hosted them. Long may it create these magical moments.

You can find Black Lung Society's show info on both Facebook and Instagram.