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Cheers did shut down in 1997, because neighbors complained that the bar's all-ages shows were attracting kids who loitered and vandalized property. Matus and a rotating cast of musicians now perform under the name of H.A.L.O. Vessel, creating electronic music with effects pedals, keyboards, and drum machines. But, because Washington Square, Rose's, and Mars Bar have also closed, H.A.L.O. Vessel has been stuck performing at warehouses and parties.
That changed last month, when the Hungry Sailor, a pub in Coconut Grove long known for showcasing reggae, hosted a performance by his troupe on a Monday night. Accompanied by Rich Rippe, the lanky bass player for the jazz-rock hybrid Swivel Stick, on keyboards, and Chris Cline, Swivel Stick's burly drummer, on African log drum and djembe, Matus took the stage behind his custom rack of pedals.
The scent of beer and cigarette smoke was a welcome change from the dusty air in the warehouses he had been playing. So was the size of the crowd. Matus says he was pleased to see more than 50 people crammed inside the bustling bar, many of whom he had never met before. "If you're in a group in Miami, you always want to draw in new people," he remarks. "You're not going to be able to do something like that if you play at a place like Churchill's [Hideaway], because a lot of people have trouble with the neighborhood and, the truth is, it's really far for most people, who live in suburban Miami."
These Monday nights are also a departure for the Sailor, which has attracted marquee names on the reggae scene since 1975 and hosts local reggae nights. Alex Dinu has owned the Hungry Sailor for the last three-and-a-half years. He has preserved the reggae showcases on his busier nights, choosing to experiment with the slower Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evenings. (Tuesday nights feature two house rock bands that play original and cover songs, while Wednesdays bring local swing, ska, and punk bands to the club.)
Dinu says Mondays have a special feel, thanks to the man he put in charge: Ed Artigas, a local musician who sings and plays guitar in Gosport, a band known for its swirling layers of guitars and vocals. "The one thing Ed does different on Monday nights is that he showcases one band and has a DJ in between, so it's more of a hangout," Dinu says. "He's creating a different atmosphere than our other nights. For our other nights the following comes out to see their band and leaves, and then the next band comes on."
And the people do come out to the Monday-night shows, which Aritgas has dubbed "Subculture." After 11:00 the crowd never drops below 50. A recent night at Subculture featured a performance by the sequencer-driven, guitar-strumming duo, J.E. and Justin G., which attracted close to 150 patrons. "Anything's welcome and anything goes," says Ana Tosca, a local music fan and Subculture regular. "It's not really stuck to a format as to what sort of band is going to play there."
Artists like Matus, in turn, are delighted to play for folks who may not know their music. "The crowd that goes there is a little bit more open to a lot of different things, musically speaking," he explains. "People know what to expect when they go there, which is diversity. Miami's always had a problem with things being homogenized. The hardcore kids only want to listen to hardcore and the snotty indie-rock kids only listen to what they like.
"I like the fact that Ed [Artigas] is bringing together all different sorts of music, whether it's a live act or the music that the DJ plays. You have a lot of music that you honestly have to like. It's not music that's some fad that everyone listens to to be cool," he continues.
Still, Matus concedes that performing more experimental types of rock isn't going to make him rich. "I'll be happy if I make my money back in gas," he says.
Artigas says the Sailor's Monday nights aren't a money-making venture for him, either. "There have been opportunities for me to make money, but I choose to pay the bands more," he claims. "I try to give them as much as possible, depending on how the door makes out. A miserable night at the door would be thirty-five dollars, so I would give the band twenty bucks and take fifteen for me, the DJ, and the doorman. When my band would go play at Cheers we'd get paid twenty dollars and there would be 80 or 100 people there, but they had to pay three bands, security, sound, all those other costs, plus staff. That's why I'm in the band business, not the bar business," he laughs. "I don't consider myself a promoter. I do this so that more local bands have a place to play where they get treated fairly. It's a place for the scene to grow. It's not like I want a huge music scene. I just want a place where people can hear music that isn't your regular radio-hit fare."