Smells Like Clean Spirit

Wanna get a sense of what’s going on downtown? Get a whiff of the all-ages club the Smell.

Along Main Street, it’s hard to escape the signs that this part of downtown L.A. is, in real estate parlance, skid row adjacent. Patrons spill out from a few dinky bars, but mostly the sidewalks are barren. The Smell itself looks like an empty storefront; the entrance is around back in an alley.

But looks aren’t everything. There are signs of night life here, starting with the smokers collected around the door chatting on a recent cool night.

Inside, the first room has one wall made of brick, another covered with chipped mint-green paint and a painted red floor devoid of all materials except dust. At the back is the unisex bathroom, where the mirror and sink are on the outside of the toilet’s privacy door, allowing everyone else in the club to watch you pick your teeth, put on your lipstick, wash your hands or not wash your hands.

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The middle room is narrow and white with doors on each end. The more eclectic groups perform here for the good acoustics, but the stage--on foot-high wood risers--is just beyond, in the back room. A black velvet curtain hangs across the storefront window that once looked out on Main Street, L.A.

There are more people in the two-story-high space than can fit in the five folding chairs set up for the audience. So the boys and girls make friends with the floor and delight in the piercing noise of the punk bands. This is the antithesis of the sleek Sunset Strip club. Old drywall is still stacked against one wall. The decor consists of a strange mural with a red-skinned person riding on a massive red beast. It’s vaguely Mexican, also vaguely satanic.

The first edition of the Smell emerged almost three years ago in a small back room of a commercial building in North Hollywood. Jim Hill, Jarrett Silberman and Ara Shirinyan from the band Godzik Pink opened the club to fill a void left by the closing of the Impala and Jabberjaw, two legendary L.A. all-ages venues. Hill recalls, “At that time, we were open three to four nights a week and featured mostly ‘art rock,’ experimental, noise and some punk.”

One patron at the old Smell location suggested that the club got its name from bad ventilation. To squelch such rumors: The Smell name was a joking allusion to Aroma, a yuppie coffee house around the corner. The only way patrons knew that the club was open on a given night was the appearance of a small scrap of paper in the front window with “the Smell” handwritten on it.

After gripes about the rising rent in the NoHo Arts District, Hill and Silberman moved the Smell to its present location in downtown L.A. in October 1999.

As an all-ages joint, the Smell does not serve alcohol. Hill believes that “there are more than enough clubs in L.A. where you can’t hear the music above the din of the thirtysomething drunks. There are very few places in this town where people of all ages can go who just want to hear good music.”

The rosy cheeks nuzzled against black, woolen nighttime coats are evidence of the youth of the audience. All sorts of crowd high jinks can be found among the young’uns. A fashionable Asian girl in a furry yet chic Eskimo jacket tongue-lashes her cowboy-attired boyfriend. Near the stage, a couple of riot girls in baggy jeans bind themselves together with their wallet chains. Toward the back, clean-cut, spiky-haired boys politely hand out fliers for their upcoming show. But whatever the crowd’s look, all are well-behaved, well-dressed and genuinely interested in whatever artistic experiments come their way.

As far as the entertainment goes, Hill does little to seek out artists for his club. “It’s more like the really good artists that we like just seem to find us.” He just puts together bills that seem interesting.

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It works. On a recent night, the punk-spirited band the Dagons were greeted aswarmly by the audience as the act that preceded them, a xylophone player named Kraig Grady and the Ensemble of 31 Birds. Some of Hill’s favorite acts include Black Dice, the Locust, Le Shok, Polar Goldie Cats and local acts like the Centimeters, Mia Doi Todd, the Warlocks, Scarnella and Babyland.

The Smell also hosts such nonmusical events as contemporary dance performances and art exhibits and will have its second annual Smelldance Film Festival on Saturday.

Hill and Silberman’s grand experiment is genuinely artistic--and surprisingly effective with the all-ages crowd. The digs aren’t the greatest but, hey, real art needs cheap rent. Forget the dire look of the surroundings; it’s the smell of success that counts.

* The Smell, 247 S. Main St., downtown Los Angeles. Nights vary. $5 cover. All ages. (213) 625-4325.