“This responds to ongoing concern received from nearby residents relating to amplified noise and related disturbances,” the council’s statement read. “We have updated our website and signage at the hall to reflect these changes, which were put in place at the beginning of September.”
Noise, or naughty behaviour?
Gig organiser Izak has been putting on underage events for the past year and says he has no issue with the council’s actions – the Library Hall’s fate is simply “symptomatic” of the state of Auckland’s live music scene. There are very few established music venues (and even fewer underage ones) left to serve underground local acts in Auckland, and as organisers look to hire something smaller in the suburbs, they tend to bring the rowdiness along with them.
The Library Hall’s new noise restrictions follow the closure of Karangahape Road’s Underground, a venue that existed down the stairs of St Kevin’s Arcade. Owned by a separate St Kevin’s business, and operated by an external manager, the venue went bust after two years following instances of bad behaviour and police call-outs.
“You know the cycle – kids come, they find out it’s a place you can just go drink outside in the car park, and gradually [the owners] have to get stricter and stricter because they’re getting in trouble,” Izak says. “They had DJ nights where the cops [arrived], and there was a bunch of brawls … the venue got pretty wrecked, every time you’d go in, it’d be in worse and worse condition.”
When Underground closed in May, two months’ worth of Friday and Saturday gigs were left up in the air. Izak says some bands were coming out of town for their now-cancelled shows, and reached out to him for help with other options. That’s how Underground’s closure started a domino effect.
Most performances were moved to Grey Lynn Library Hall – the venue is one of only a few willing to open their doors for underage gigs (there used to be nights at the Old Folks Association off K Road, but bad behaviour put an end to that as well), and has been doing so for decades. Izak says most council-owned venues are more cost-effective than established venues at $200 for hire, compared to $1,000 for Double Whammy (and $400 for Whammy mainroom, both of which are R18 spaces), and $500-700 plus GST for Morningside’s Big Fan.
Izak says the last four gigs hosted at the Library Hall attracted noise complaints, and in trying to satisfy both the musicians and locals, the council’s asked if the venue’s double doors could remain closed and gigs wrap up before 10pm. But the complaints continued to come, and Izak says that’s when the council warned they would be introducing restrictions and letting go of the Library Hall bookings.
He says he tried to argue the noise levels with the council but was told they would be moving ahead with the restrictions due to the weight of people complaining, and video showing the sound of the Library Hall heard from the street.
The last late-night Library Hall gig took place on August 30, before the council’s restrictions came into effect in early September. Izak says he doesn’t believe the noise created by the gigs at the Library Hall was enough to warrant multiple noise complaints – using his own sound meter, he recorded the noise from the venue at 100dB inside, 80dB at the door, and 60dB, equivalent to the sound of a two-person conversation, from the street.
The Resource Management Act allows local governments to get involved with noise complaints if the sound exceeds reasonable levels. In certain residential suburban and urban areas, the council has set noise level limits of 40dB LAeq and 75dB LAFmax between 10pm and 7am Monday to Saturday. 40dB is equivalent to a computer hum, while 75dB is comparable to the sound of a dishwasher.
While the sound of the music may register low enough to be acceptable, the noise from the punters is another thing. As well as drums and guitar, the Library Hall’s locals have at times been treated to hours of noise from intoxicated gig-goers outside the venue, whether it be the sound of drunken screaming or the breaking of bottles. If the noise from the venue is 60dB when it reaches the street, it just joins the rest of the circus sounds going on.
Izak feels the “gentrification” of the city has led to entitled locals, whom he says have called noise control on a local church early Sunday morning because of the singing of the congregation, and a rugby club was dobbed in for loud matches. “I really think this is symptomatic of people in Auckland who think that anything happening in their backyard is negative, and are resentful of the sound of people,” he says. “I pay rates, therefore I get to call noise control.”
Less DIY, more regulation
Loud sounds aren’t the only issue that comes along with hosting underage gigs. With the lack of venue options around Auckland, Izak says the cheaper options available tend to become overrun by bad behaviour from young patrons looking for a place to drink without the watchful eyes of authority.
As well as being a musician, Izak is a trained youth worker and worries those organising underage gigs don’t possess the necessary skills to deal with rangatahi who are acting out, or under the influence. He says he often has to sort out personal disputes between the younger gig-goers, including kicking some rangatahi out of shows for making others feel unsafe – but then there’s the issue of making sure they’re safe on the street too. It’s not a responsibility he suspects every casual gig organiser is taking seriously, especially as “the alcohol industry has a vice grip on New Zealand culture”.
Izak hopes to see an established music venue with a youth focus set up in Auckland, to curb the cycle of independent and council-owned venues going under or enforcing new restrictions due to out-of-control rangatahi and noise-sensitive neighbours. He says the ideal model would be like a sports club, with adults stepping into mentor roles. Promoting do-it-yourself music has offered an incredible sense of community, he says, but the lack of control in these spaces has made them unsustainable.
The gigs cancelled by the Library Hall’s new restrictions have found other homes, including a show that had been scheduled in early September for one of Izak’s bands, Grym Rhymney, moving to Mt Eden’s Cityside Baptist Church. The underage music scene’s existential crisis is one that clearly weighs heavily on Izak, who looks worn out after talking about it for more than an hour.
He quotes a book by Camp A Low Hum’s Ian Jorgenson about the obstacles facing the local music scene. In a chapter looking at the rise and fall of underage gigs, Jorgenson writes, “I saw some kids turn into jaded pricks or think they were too cool for school. Some guys would only come when girls were there. And then there’s the dumb kids who didn’t give a f*** about the show and just wanted to be where the other kids were. But for every annoying kid, there are 10 awesome kids who will make you realise what you’re doing is important.”
While the Library Hall’s new restrictions mean Grey Lynn locals might get to sleep a little easier, it doesn’t address the core issues of the underage music scene. But without the funding needed to open a new venue in the vein of Big Fan, with staff trained to deal with drunk and disorderly teenagers, Izak wonders if the cycle will ever be broken.