Like a ferrous phoenix Buffalo is rising from the railyard slag and toothless warehouses in a flurry of cranes, hardhats, and optimism.
And it's not because a bunch of real estate developers decided, all at once, that Buffalo looks better as a city than as a parking lot. Nor is it due to the fact that the inbred cyclopes that are our local and state governments finally figured they'd stop banging their cousins because, you know, it's getting in the way of progress.
You can argue that blue collar workers - your everyman with a family to feed and humble aspirations - he and she kept this city going in darkest days. But blue collars come and go. That's not a knock on working folk - I come from a pair of thick-armed clock-punchers who traded their backs and better selves to feed the family. Fact is, when you're relying on the herd for food, you've got to follow the buffalo when they - or it - moves on.
Kids got to eat.
The reason Buffalo is on its current track, I think, is due in no small part to the hard-nosed, hard-working romantics that, for whatever reason, hear "Buffalo" (that old punchline) and think, "home."
Guys like Matto LaQue, whose blood, sweat, and brutal bass licks have given rise to Peterwalkee Records, a local D.I.Y. label specializing in punk and indie.
Matto has been in the indie-and-punk game for over 20 years, playing shows around the Capital District, Buffalo, and points beyond and between since his first gig in 1991, with acts like Albany's Kitty Little and Buffalo's Resist Control.
Matto's been organizing shows and releasing records under the banner of Peterwalkee, including last night's record release and tour kickoff for Mallwalkers at the Polish Library (read our review of Mallwalkers' first full-length, Shake the Rust Off, here). Peterwalkee has put out a few dozen records by the likes of indie rock veterans The Figgs, Finnish hardcore quintet Hero Dishonest, and a slew of punk and indie bands local to Buffalo, Albany, and environs.
Guys like Matto and projects like Peterwalkee are the sorts of things that keep a community breathing even when the body is limp and lifeless. Artists, musicians, and pig-headed builders and makers are the reason we have quirky enclaves like Elmwood Village and Allentown. People with D.I.Y. sensibilities and a foolhardy sense of ownership and home have made these neighborhoods the strange, organic places they are today.
It's because a few folks lit a candle - long after anyone with any sense had turned off the lights and shut the door - brushed the dust off, and gave the place a new coat of paint that Buffalo isn't a windswept asphalt veld right now.
I don't think I'm being hyperbolic here. Because, for me, in my darkest days, when the frigid hole of hell was opening up and calling me in, it was music that brought me out, warmed me up, and made me feel a little alive. There I was, standing on the edge of a Subway platform, waiting for the E train to swallow me up and suck me down the throat of another miserable day, only to vomit me out the other side. I was dead on my feet. But I had my music.
Thank God for headphones. And baruch atah Buffalo music. For me, it was Sonorous Gale that called me back from oblivion, brought me up and landed me here.
Maybe music, especially the blood-and-guts, do-or-die D.I.Y. I grew up with, doesn't mean as much to you as it does to a poor slob like me. But I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that, time was, I was dead, and music rose me up again. It's bringing all of us up again.
Next year in Jerusalem, dear friends. And next year in Buffalo.
It doesnt matter whether you were born here or a transplant,once you get a taste of that buffalove its hard to turn away. Theres something special about this place and once everyone gets on the same page ,buffalo will be buffalo again.
Interesting post. I definitely think Buffalo's rebounding, with the blooming music scene a component (and metaphor), and that a "new" Buffalo is emerging as alluded to in your piece. We just need to retain that blue collar unpretentiousness so we can remain "Buffalo."