Double Door Inn Article, Tangents Magazine, December 2016 Issue

An old house sits at 218 Charlottetowne Avenue, just across from Central Piedmont Community College. When the building that has housed the Double Door Inn was first built in 1911, those that built the house could not have imagined the life that the place would have. Originally built as a residence on a dirt road, several blocks from the hospital that dwarfed the neighborhood in those early days, the house went through many changes. As did the city that it looked out over. In time, it would be a home, a business, a clothing store. Its neighbors would first include Central High, then Charlotte College (now UNC-Charlotte), and later, Central Piedmont Community College. 

By 1973, the area around the home was changing. A series of small shops littered around the CPCC area. They included Cronosynclasticinfindibulum, one of Charlotte’s first headshops, which sat next to the house on what is now 218 Charlottetowne. After being a clothing store for some time, the house sat empty for some time, until two brothers saw it as a place to attract locals and college students.

Nick Karres and Matthew Karres opened the Double Door Inn on December 22nd, 1973. They had been looking to open a bar for some time. Their father was not thrilled with their sons’ idea, but he supported them financially, and took some of the first ever photos of the Double Door’s interior. The brothers named the venue for its double doored entrance, not realizing that a music venue in Chicago had the exact name. But music was not in the brothers’ plan in those early days. “The college bar you’ve been waiting for”, proclaimed their hand-drawn early ads. They hoped to draw college students, and folks from the nearby Stanleyville (now part of Elizabeth) neighborhood.

In the early 1970s, music venues in Charlotte were at a low ebb. Larger venues such as Phantasmagoria had been driven out of business, and only a few bars provided live music. Slowly, musicians came into the Double Door, asking for a place to play. Originally, Nick and Matthew set acoustic musicians in the game room area of the club. Over time, musicians help Nick and Matthew build a stage near the front of the venue. Just in time for the Dixie Dregs to show up, and throw the venue’s focus into another place.

According to who tells the story, a couple of regulars at the Double Door happen to offer a ride to two long-haired men that were hitchhiking from the airport. It turned out to be Steve Morse, and one other member of the Rock band Dixie Dregs, who were on their way to Reliable Music. When the musicians inquired as to where they should play in Charlotte, they replied, “The Double Door Inn.” The band promptly booked two nights at the Double Door, and to their credit, the Karres brothers pulled off a show on aa scale that they had never attempted before. At the end of the second night, Moore gave Nick Karres a list of 12 bands that he said needed a place to play between Washington and Atlanta. And until January 3rd of 2017, the Double Door Inn has never stopped.

The Double Door soon established itself as one of the few places for blues music, and music of many genres to play in the Southeast. Along with the national touring acts that were filling their calendar, the Karres brothers never forgot that they were a Charlotte music venue. When the Spongetones began to coalesce in 1980, they immediately made the Double Door their primary home. That would be same for the Belmont Playboys, Extraordinaires, Lou Ford, and a host of local bands through the 1980s and 1990s. 

The Double Door Inn also established itself as what Nick referred to as a “Turnkey venue”. A venue that acts could build up a fanbase, and come back to Charlotte in larger venues. When Stevie Ray Vaughn first played the venue in 1979, the venue was mostly empty. When we returned for his third snd final show there in 1982, the line was out the door. 

And oh yes, another artist showed up at the Double Door Inn that same year. Here is that often-told story, in a nutshell. Harmonica player Jerry Portnoy was friends with Eric Clapton. Portnoy and the Legendary Blues Band, made up of former members of Muddy Waters’ band, had done some recording with Clapton. Portnoy and Clapton agreed that in return for recording, Clapton would guest one night with the band, so that the band could use it in their promotion. 

Clapton was basing his summer US tour out of Charlotte in 1982. The Legendary Blues Band set up a show at the Double Door Inn. Everything was set, and Clapton did not show. Plans were then tentatively made to have Clapton guest with the band in Memphis that Thursday. Soon after, the venue in Memphis closed, and the band needed another venue on that night. They called Nick Karres. Nick agreed to have a local band that was booked for that night, featuring Bill Noonan and Dillard Richardson, play a first set, and then have the Legendary Blues Band play the second set, unannounced. Clapton showed up with his whole band in tow, and after watching the band play for some time, took to the stage for five songs, and an encore. How many people were actually there that night? It’s hard to say. Maybe we all were there, at least emotionally. 

Through 43 years, the Double Door has seen a lot of changes. When Nick Karres took over sole ownership in 1984. Through the changing music scene, and changing musicians. Over time, the venue became the second oldest blues music venue in the United States, and oldest on this side of the Mississippi River. The only one that is older is Antone’s, in Austin, TX, which has been renovated a number of times. About the only physical things that have changed over those 43 years is the removal of the old clothing store display on the second floor, and the bathrooms that were added in the ealy 1990s. But the peope, the music, the Dirty Floor- as it was sometimes known- remained.

I first went to the Double Door Inn in 1994. It was part of a Sunday night meeting of a local video and film group. I soon left the video group, but I started going regularly to the venue over the next two years. By the late 1990s, the Double Door started hosting an Americana Night on Tuesday nights, for the regional and national acts that were playing country, rock and folk music durign that time. THere was no other series like that in Charlotte back then. How many bands that I still listen to, work with, am friends with, still connected to, that I saw in that series? Thankfully, too many to count. A Tuesday night there also led you to shows on Friday and Saturday night. To the All-Stars on Monday night. One great show and night led to the next.

The shows I saw there? Levon Helm with the Barn Burners. Alejandro Escovedo with a string section. Leon Russell, with a set-up that was bigger than the Double Door stage. More Lou Ford shows that many of us can remember, for different reasons. David Childers, with a young Concord band called the Avett Brothers opening? Pinetop Perkins. Nappy Brown. Hubert Sumlin. Thankfully, my camera was with me for all these adventures. I never thought that I would be looking at these photos, and thinking, “I’m glad that I documented this while they, and the building was there.” It was life. My life, my friends’ lives. The Double Door was part of our collective life adventure.

Nick Karres introduced me to Debby Wallace, which whom I co-wrote the first edition of the Double Door book. She needed a photographer for an interview she was doing with Nick, and Nick called me from his office. Somehow, I happened to be home when Nick called, and then drove to the Double Door. Later that day, Debby said that she always wanted to write a book on the history of the Double Door, and I immediately told her that she should, and that I would help her. I wanted to see that story told, and in print. The fact that I was the one involved with the book was almost happenstance. I wanted to see happen, so I helped to bring it to fruition. When Debby passed away a month about publication, I became the person that carried the book’s story on. Through a second edition in 2014, and a third and final edition next year. Because the story deserves to be told, and I still believe in it. Whether the building is standing, or not. And regardless of my involvement with the book, I am like many that hold the venue in a special place in my heart. The story of the Double Door is story of many of us, all in love with the dream that the venue allowed us to have.

It is sad to see the Double Door go. There is no easier way to say it. It’s loss has been one of the few things over my 33 years in Charlotte that made me question why I am still living here. And when it goes, an era of Charlotte will go. Once again, this city talks abou preserving what little history we have left, and then we don’t. That being said, Nick Karres and the Double Door staff, many of whom have been with the venue for over 30 to 40 years, have given us the chance to go out with grace, and the chance to come to terms with the loss.

The documentation of life is often the attempt to capture, or speak to the experiences that we are having. With a pen, with a camera. With a thought, or a scribble on the upstairs green room wall. When it all is said and done, I’m glad that I was there, and I’m glad that so many of you were also there. And for those that never walked through the Double Door Inn, I will always say, I wish you had been.

Thank you, Nick, Thank you, Matt. Thank you, everyone.

Long live the Double Door Inn.

Pet Sounds Article

The path to Pet Sounds began in December 1964, when Brian Wilson went into a panic onboard a plane carrying his band, the Beach Boys, to a gig in Houston, Texas. For the previous two years, Wilson and his band- fellow brothers Carl and Dennis Wilson, cousin Mike Love, and school friend Al Jardine- had kept up a furious pace of touring and recording. All while Brian wrote or co-wrote hit songs for the Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, and many others. At that moment, the Beach Boys were one of the biggest bands in America, and perhaps the world. But Brian just wasn’t made for those times. Always the most fragile and insecure person in the band, despite his remarkable talents, he wanted out. He wanted something different. 

In 1965, Brian made the decision to stay home while the band picked up another Californian, Bruce Johnston, and continued touring the world. The hits kept coming for the Beach Boys, but the songs were no longer just about the beach. Young adult longings for love, love lost, a realization that you were no longer the child that you used to be. Becoming someone else, and realizing that it just wasn’t you. These ideas began swirilng around Brian’s head, and began to appear on the Beach Boys' next album, Summer Days And Summer Nights. Their label, Capitol Records, didn’t notice or care that Brian’s music was changing. They just wanted the next hit single. When the band released their quickly recorded, covers-heavy Party Album for Christmas that same year, the label was thrilled that it was a huge success. But the album was in reality a farewell to the ideas that Brian once had, and he was already at work on their next, and most important creation to date.

When Brian heard the new Beatles album, Rubber Soul, he was inspired by the album’s use of a set of songs that formed a complete whole. In his mind, he knew that there was an answer to Rubber Soul, and he began to put it together. With the Beach Boys on the road, Brian also began to use more of a stable of Los Angeles session musicians, later known as The Wrecking Crew, for the new songs that he was recording. With frequent collaborator Mike Love also on the road, Brian turned to local ad salsman Tony Asher for lyrics that spoke to all of Brian’s hopes, wishes and longings. All he needed now was the rest of the band.

When the Beach Boys returned from a successful tour of Japan (photos from which would be featured on the back cover of Pet Sounds), the band was dumbfounded by what they heard. A mixture of pop, jazz, symphonic rhythm & blues, and lyrics that were reaching far beyond the California shoreline. But they pressed on. Pushed by Brian, who taught the bandmembers their vocal parts individually at the piano, the band spent days and days recording their vocals. Mike Love would reportedly later say that Brian had dog ears, meaning that Brian heard mistakes that no one else could hear. What Love meant to say is that Brian Wilson had a dog ear. Brian created Pet Sounds, and all of his classics while being deaf in one ear. His Pet Sounds, meaning his favorite music, was now ready for the world.

However, the world was not ready for Pet Sounds it was released in May of 1966. Capitol Records did not know what to make of the album. Singles were released, and then another single was released soon after, as if they had no confidence in their chances of climbing the charts. “God Only Knows” was released as a single, but many stations would not play it, due to the word God being in the title. Many flipped the single over, and played “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”, instead. By the fall of that year, Capitol would release a Beach Boys best-of, which would quickly outsell Pet Sounds that year.

In England, the mother country of the Beatles, Pet Sounds was quickly embraced as a modern masterpiece, and climbed to number two on the album charts. In return, the Beatles would be influenced on Pet Sounds. Listen to “Here There And Everywhere”, off of the band’s next album, Revolver, and see if you can hear an echo or two of the Beach Boys. Over time, Pet Sounds became the unknown treasure that many discovered, and shared with the rest of the world. A love of songs that continues to be never-ending. Wouldn’t that be nice?

For all of Capitol’s worrying about the band’s next single, Brian already had it in the works. Recorded over five months, and utilizing four different studios, “Good Vibrations” became the number one smash that the band and label craved. If Pet Sounds was a cradle of new ideas, “Good Vibrations” was the band’s symphonic explosion. Work on the song overlapped work on Pet Sounds, so much so that the band thought that the song would be included on the album. But Brian knew what he wanted. Pet Sounds, and “Good Vibrations” would each stand alone, and show the world what he was capable of. 

While Pet Sounds is dominated by the vocals and talents of Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys also contributed to the album’s final shape. Mike Love would sing lead on four songs, and contribute lyrics to three songs, including “I Know There’s An Answer” (originally titled “Hang On To Your Ego” by Brian and Tony Asher). Al Jardine would bring the folk song “Sloop John B” to Brian, providing a key anchor of Pet Sounds’ song sequence. Dennis Wilson and Bruce Johnston also sang various lead and harmony parts, while Carl Wilson (who also played guitar on the album) would be given Brian’s favorite song, “God Only Knows” to sing. Why? Because Brian wanted him to sing that song. Out of their six collective voices, Pet Sounds emerged as one singular statement.

In the fall of 1966, Brian Wilson turned 24 years old. After “Good Vibrations”, he turned his attention to his next project. An album that would push his concept album ideas, and harmonies as singular instruments even further. When Wilson abondoned the project, which had been called Smile, in the spring of 1967, the legend of Brian Wilson as a lost musical genius began to grow. The mere fact that Brian Wilson is alive today, forty years after the rush of Smile’s demise, is remarkable. The fact that he is touring more than ever in 2016, on an album that grew out on his refusal to tour 52 years ago, is nothing short of astounding. But like Pet Sounds itself, the story of Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys continues to confound and astound all who listen to it, and them. 

If Smile can be considered Brian’s Pheonix-like rise and fall, Pet Sounds is the sound of one man, and one band soaring to the heavens in search of what comes next. Without fear of the sun, the winds, or gravity. No hell below them, above them only sky, and far removed from the sandy beaches from which they had started from. 

Fifty years later, people still believe in a dream called Pet Sounds. How can it be? 

Listen, listen.

-Daniel Coston

Flight Of Honor

I was asked to photograph a Flight Of Honor last week. Since the World War II memorial opened in Washington earlier this year, many cities have been organizing trips for local WWII veterans. Last Saturday's was the last in Charlotte, for now, until new sponsorship can be found.

So why was I out there at 6am to photograph a group of veterans that I've never met? My friends in the WBT Briarhoppers asked me to do it, so I could photograph them playing to the vets. But largely, it was for personal, and sentimental reasons. Both of my grandfathers fought in World War II. My mom's father (whom I recently wrote about on what would have been my grandparents' 66th wedding anniversary) was a staff sgt., and was on the lines through North Africa, Italy and D-Day. My dad's father was in the Navy for the last year of the war, long enough to be on a ship that was torpedoed and strafed by the enemy, but did not sink.

My dad's father got to visit the Memorial earlier this year, but George (my mom's dad, and someone I was closer to than nearly everyone I've ever known) passed away in 2000, as the plans for the memorial were being drawn up. He had told me that he didn't need to see it, or the D-Day memorial, or the various things that they've built for veterans in the past decades. He didn't need to relive it again. But he still stayed in touch with his friends. His buddies, his fellow survivors. He outlived most of them, but the shared experience never diminished.

So here they were. A couple hundred people whom I never met, yet I knew all of their stories. The look in their eyes when you talked about "that time." The weary look of pride as the years came flooding back. It was there. Like I once saw in George's eyes, and now I sometimes see in my own.

I wore a photo of George pinned to my shirt. I couldn't find a photo of him from those days at 6am that morning, but I did take a photo of him from 1959, standing proudly in front of my grandparents' house. I wanted him to be there, in some physical and emotional form. Would he have gone on these flights? I don't know. If his friends were still around, perhaps. But maybe that is what tied the morning together, for me. What is the human race, but a series of friends, and loved ones that we hold close to ourselves? They may no longer be with us, in the physical sense, but our shared experience never changes. And in that sense, they will always be with us, no matter where we, or they go.

Enjoy your flight, kid. From your old kiddo,
-Daniel

P.S. Yes, I'm a sentimental fool. But my heart would not let me act otherwise.