That Music Thing (TMT) 7th March 2019
Recently established at Epic Studios, That Music Thing (TMT), is the opportunity 19-year-old me, my neo-swing—ska jazz—punk rock band, and the rest of the scene we were part of (noughties Jersey Shore) would have leapt at. And it represents everything I wanted to provide my community and its talent. I saw and heard something I didn’t see or hear anywhere else, and I wanted to share that experience with the world.
The more outlets, the more exposure. Get the band in the paper, and the county knew about them. Get the band on the radio, and the state knew about them. Get the band on television, and the nation knew about them. Supporting the grassroots music scene is my passion. One obviously shared by TMT.
TMT is one of the most recent installations at Epic Studios, Magdalen Street’s very own media and entertainment centre. Recurring every month, the music showcase serves as a springboard, boosting the careers of four up-and-coming acts.
As the versatile venue is renowned for its television studio origins and concerts, each performance benefits from privileged access to its reputable, all-encompassing resources – industry-standard equipment and the experienced personnel behind it. The rigorously-controlled environment – which includes everything from how the acts will look on camera to how they sound on stage – leaves them with nothing to worry about except the act itself. Paired with this, is not only the capacity for a live studio audience, but the facility to live-vision mix and stream each thirty-minute performance to the world stage on Facebook Live and YouTube.
Above everything else, the whole idea stems from a genuine place that knows formative, first gigs are integral towards developing identity, testing material, fine-tuning delivery, building confidence, gaining fans, and making invaluable connections.
In its strive to support grassroots music, That Music Thing is free to attend so as long as tickets are booked in advance from its website and box office (otherwise it’s just £3 at the door). They can also be obtained from the performing acts.
Since its debut in January, the show has featured performances by The Islas, The Visitors, The Magic E’s, Jas Eade, Happy Coloured Marbles, Gladboy, Ezifreak and Mega Emotion.
Welcome to Epic Studios
The door opens to Rick Lennox, Live Music Manager at Epic Studios. In a colourful interview for Rock Feedback in 2007, Toby L describes Rick as, “a man that may well have had an effect on your taste without you even knowing it.” And it’s entirely true. Rick, whose varied and interesting career includes A&R, signed Skunk Anansie and brought Kelli Ali to Sneaker Pimps (then, two female-fronted bands that trickled down to me via MTV’s Daria). They were there because of him. And I am here because of him.
Cords slither across a black expanse taped with crosses and scuffed with lines. Cameras glide towards the pointed fingers that beckon them. The operators stationed behind them almost resemble ball turret gunners. Bodies pace in the cross-hairs of their triangular formation, only to be shot by a distant photographer. He slips in and out of crevices, silent except for the occasional shutter. Disembodied instructions filter through illuminated plumes of smoke that turn red, blue and gold. The tilted, paneled grids of light make extraterrestrials out of the band beneath the technical wisteria hanging down from the numbered ceiling.
I return my press pass to Rick and thank him for getting me back to music. Somewhere between leaving Epic Studios and passing Access Creative College, something stirs inside me. Something I knew was there, but lost sight of somewhere in a lifeless cubicle, eavesdropping on the equally lifeless conversations that come with them. I think many creatives must be – to an extent – prisoners of the ‘9 to 5’, or else their art, books, films and songs wouldn’t offer release or escapism. The epiphany alone makes me realise maybe they’re all around us. Creatives. Living Clark Kent day jobs and then coming home to save lives through the art they produce.
Magdalen Street is getting sleepy. The occasional car yawns past. I am proud of my unique neighbourhood. It doesn’t look like the rest of England. And it doesn’t feel like the rest of England. Its sociable, small-town feel enables you to make a difference and feel part of something bigger.
For me, when I first moved here, I was taken aback by the choice of music playing everywhere I went, which was anything but mainstream. It felt to me, that this was a place that prided the obscure. Norwich stands out as entrepreneurial. It’s an underdog of a city, fighting back corporations by championing the produce of its locals. This in turn, retains an identity lacked by many surrounding cities, which start to resemble each other with time.
That’s why I have so much pride in my Jersey Shore – a scene that fought to retain its identity only to boast more bands and music artists than ever before, having been influenced by the bands and music artists of past scenes. They play together and tour together and raise each other’s profiles. There are more music shops to buy instruments and equipment from. And more studios to practice and record in. And more venues. Sure, there’s plenty of arena gigs and festivals, but they can’t compare with the intimacy of a small venue gig. That same independent spirit runs through this fine city. And I know it will continue to flourish, too.
In this worsening age of anxiety, where special measures and suicides dominate headlines, community could not play a more important role. Music is a community. One that’s rooted in a universal language that can be understood by everyone – whether they can hear or not. Babies understand rhythm. Animals understand pitch. It breaks the barrier of language and conveys everything words can’t. By simply pushing ‘play’, a song unites time, place and people. By simply standing in a crowd, the energy between audience and artist feeds off each other, rendering no two concerts alike. And when musicians die, even if we didn’t meet them or see them perform, we feel grief as if they were a friend. We unite in this loss and connect with strangers. We are equally impacted by music, just as we imprint ourselves onto it.
Music is so much more than music. It creates a support network. It gives us a voice. Explains what we can’t say, whether that’s lyrically or through an instrument. It gives us purpose, identity and catharsis. And reminds us that we’re not alone in connecting us.
I take pride in knowing the scene of my youth, my little corner of the world, reaches all the way over here. I hear it from a PA system when I’m waiting in a queue. I hear it being discussed in record shops. I hear it in the sounds coming out of today’s bands. And I anticipate hearing how the bands of today will influence the bands of tomorrow. In venues like Epic Studios.
A massive thank you and all writing credits to Monique Guz AKA MO WRITES for her kind words…
MO is a Filipina-American freelance writer and pianist-for-hire based in Norwich with New Jersey roots. She is currently working on a three-part mixed-media series about identity, mental health, and her relationship with music spanning the scenes of New Jersey, London and Norwich. To read the full story and band interviews, please visit:
Author Website: https://omgpiano4.wixsite.com/monakeys
Blog: http://www.monabeewrites.wordpress.com
Social Media:
Instagram: @mona_keys
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Mo-Writes-2194912954095129
Twitter: @mowrites
For more information about upcoming shows at Epic Studios please follow the link: What’s On