Coming off the high of a one-night music festival hosted by my college radio station, I was itching to immerse myself in another city’s DIY scene. I assumed that a major city like Chicago–with tons of small venues and even smaller acts–is bound to have a huge underground scene—and it does.
But one has to wonder, where do all the queer DIY people go? While the scene is generally accepting of those on the margins, that doesn’t necessarily mean everyone feels safe in it. Does Chicago have a queer-specific scene? Does it even need one?
Three iconic queer bars that helped define Chicago’s punk scene—La Mere Vipere, Oz and O’Banion’s –have been closed since the ‘80s.
But there are other venues like The Garden, a DIY space that centers transgender artists, spanning music genres from folk to noise. Other venues aren’t specifically queer, but have diverse bills.
While in Chicago, I decided to go to a show and feel out the vibes of whichever venue I ended up in to see if they pass the queer-friendly vibe check.
I headed to Northalsted (the neighborhood formerly known as Boystown) to visit Bookclub, an inconspicuous venue, which was having a “back2school blowout” show featuring many artists from Columbia College Chicago.
The crowd moshed, thrashing and pushing each other around in a feral circle to the hyperpop, experimental and rap music. Think glaive, Drain Gang, Nattalie Blake, and anything that would have a cult following in a niche alternative part of TikTok.
Lene Magac, a junior at Columbia College Chicago, went to the same show I did. Magac came with her friend and it was her first show. She moved to Chicago from a small village in north Illinois and found acceptance in the new city.
“I felt like I wasn’t necessarily judged at all. People were doing their own thing. I don’t think they give two shits about who you are, or what you look like or what you’re doing,” she said.
She wore a lesbian flag rubber band bracelet, which I didn’t notice when I picked her out of the crowd for an interview. I read her as queer and hoped she wouldn’t take offense. I saw her short curly haircut, patterned button up over a crewneck tee and shorts and just knew.
“I was actually happy,” she said. “I don’t like it when people think of me as straight.”
The energy in the crowd was vibrant and Bookclub definitely passed the vibe check. You could’ve been anyone you wanted to be in the crowd that night, queer or not.
Owen Nelson, a sophomore at Columbia College Chicago and videographer for many of the show’s artists, said they don’t know of any spaces that aren’t queer-friendly.
“I think everything is relatively accepting, especially in these underground scenes where most of the artists are queer people,” Nelson said. “If someone’s being transphobic, people are going to be against that person. They’re not going to side with them.”
Nelson mentioned a queer venue that was integral to the scene, Gayhouse Chicago. It hosted bigger hyperpop artists like Fraxiom and Siouxxie Sixxsta. Artists from Bookclub performed there as well, such as LEOVISA, gusto savant and PROXOXIE.
“There would naturally be a very diverse crowd,” they said. “It’s just the kind of inclusive nature of the venues here.”
Artists booked at the venue spanned genres, and this would reflect in the fanbase that came to shows. But the fun ended when the venue shut down in 2021.
Nelson said they think an unfortunate part of Gayhouse shutting down is that artists who weren’t able to officially book shows lost a platform. The more secretive a club is, the longer it’ll avoid being shut down by law enforcement, which is why there’s a high prevalence of “DM for address.”
Nelson said the Gayhouse Chicago’s closing felt, “a little demoralizing…it’s an important resource. The shows are fun and it brings people together.” People wondered when the next DIY venue was going to open, and for a bit, shows were less frequent.
Although Gayhouse Chicago shut down, The Garden still exists as a venue highlighting queer artists. Yoshi Perfect, longtime DIY-er and musician appreciates The Garden’s platforming of transgender artists in genres where their existence isn’t common.
“We have such a strong queer, trans presence that there’s going to be a de facto acceptance of queerness and transness,” she said.
Nick Lampiasi, a junior at Columbia College Chicago performed at Bookclub and organized the show. “Basically everyone here is queer,” he said.
Lampiasi said that in the Chicago scene, people are focused on making friends while in New York City and Los Angeles, everyone is focused on making it big and being on their “outside behavior.”
For the DIY experimental rap and hyperpop crowd, the guidelines for these genres have been molded by the pandemic, Lampiasi said. “The playing field moved to the home territory of introverts, and antisocial fucking nerds.”
Now that artists are back to playing shows, those in the forefront are usually not the ones to perform in front of crowds. He said Chicago is the perfect scene since it has the combination of being “uniquely online” and having enough room for artists to make a name for themselves.
Despite its inherent queerness, the DIY scene isn’t perfect.
“When you have things that are deeply personal, like people’s gender and sexual identity, it is a lot of pressure to be putting it out there into the forefront,” Lampiasi said. ”They identify you really quickly and put you into an image in their head. Almost like brand you really quickly.”
Lampiasi says he doesn’t want to state his identity out loud: “Because for me, it’s implied by my space, it’s implied by the way I’m moving around here.”
But there’s this irony that exists within this very queer space–heteronormativity exists within the scene. If people don’t know your identity, they assume you’re cisgender and straight, Lampiasi explained.
It seems that the more boisterous and loud you are, the more people in the space will validate your queerness, he added.
Lampiasi became best friends with a musician he met online named Lauren. After messaging for nine months, Lauren flew in from Canada to watch the Bookclub show and they met in person.
“And it was this beautiful moment where I realized Lauren creates art as an online manifestation of their identity,” he said. “ They’re not confined by what they do in real life, where they live, who they are, and they get to just put their fucking inner beauty onto the art and and live through that and be whoever they want.”
Lampiasi found it “deeply symbolic” that Lauren had to fly to Chicago to share that moment with him.
He said there’s nowhere else where someone like Lauren could be their authentic self. “It wouldn’t have happened the same way if we were in New York, in my opinion,” he said.
Through talking to people who participate in different factions of the DIY scene, as Yoshi put it, I’ve learned that the DIY kids are all right. And the adults too. Queer or not, punk or not, there’s a place somewhere in the Chicago scene for everybody.
And it’s fucking beautiful.