DIY Music and Scene Theory: Making Sense of Local Music Communities in a Post-Industrial City

DIY Music and Scene Theory

For at least two decades, “scene” has been a key concept for describing the social, economic, and geographical dimensions of popular music. Initially applied exclusively to U.S. and British contexts, the term appeared first in sociology and American studies, then later in ethnomusicology journals. The most influential writings emerged after 1980 and linked scenes to post‐subcultural life. These studies also embraced the consolidation of the pop music industry, presenting scenes as spaces of authenticity and resistance. Scholars further positioned the scene as a mechanism of post‐industrial urban planning, observing its explicit appearance in economic initiatives and, less obviously, in urban development strategies.

This paper reviews key issues in scene theory in light of recent developments in popular music and dramatic changes in urban life following 9/11. Contemporary urban culture—sometimes called the “millennial generation”—has been uniquely affected by these conditions, having known no other adult experience. The focus here is particularly on the emergence of a self‑identified DIY scene, which has sharpened the already charged rhetoric around independence in popular music. Online social networking has also reshaped how scenes function in ways earlier scholars did not foresee. Additionally, this piece reflects on the scene in Cincinnati. As a mid‑sized, post‑industrial city, Cincinnati exhibits characteristics identified as conducive to scene formation, making it a useful case study. The city’s 2001 riots closely preceded 9/11 and intensified an already crisis‑like atmosphere. Defining conditions of modern urban life were amplified here, so the city presents a valuable setting in which to observe scene dynamics.

Scene as Concept

The term “scene” draws partly from post‑WWII U.S. urban life. Peterson and Bennett (2004:2) note that journalists used the word as early as the 1940s to describe “marginal and bohemian” environments associated with jazz. Early usage carried a sense of distinctiveness and importance, drawing on theatrical connotations, and journalists employed it to arbitrate taste. This groundwork was laid for the self‑identification and differentiation seen today.

As an academic concept, “scene” traces back to David Riesman’s 1950 article on popular music reception, which challenged the Frankfurt School’s view of audiences as passive consumers. The Birmingham School of Cultural Studies developed this principle extensively, cataloguing music communities as sites of resistance. In this work, musical artifacts are reframed, often satirically, so that listening is portrayed as explicitly agonistic or oppositional. This approach depicts an arena of active listening, employing a dialogic model between audiences and the music they consume (Krims 2009:398‑99). That scholarship presumes a vertical structure of power and maps resistant practices by following the hegemonic trail from producer to consumer (Krims 2009:401‑2). As Adam Krims points out in his critique, resistance is always located in consumption. If consumption‑as‑resistance were truly this effective, he argues—if production really followed consumption in anything near its magnitude—it would be vastly more visible. Consequently, scene scholarship has turned away from listening as a focus and toward localized production, in the broadest sense, in order to situate the scene in relation to the mainstream.

The explicit use of “scene” to describe the geography of musical production is attributed to Will Straw. Comparing how music functions in cities, Straw contrasted the “scene” (where musical life is grounded in a specific geographical heritage) with the “community” (1991:373). Scenes arise in contexts of multiple coexisting musical practices, as in a city, and the cohesion of a scene derives from affective bonds between participants and their context.

It is important to note that, unlike common parlance, a “scene” is not simply the following of a single genre or style—as in “blues scenes” for example. Scene theory specifically addresses cultural articulations of this formulation, and the concept itself is purposeful: a boundary is defined, and the scene positions its music at the global level. This insistence on spatial engagement is not a trivial preference but a theoretical imperative—a recognition that the materiality of music is always involved. Straw later expanded on his definition, noting that scenes are characterized by a “potentially dangerous overproduction and proliferation of musicalized signs of identity and community” (1994:122). His foundational ethnography of the Austin indie scene traced its evolution from traditional country to alternative rock and then to post‑punk. With each step, the scene moved beyond simply expressing locally significant cultural values. It ultimately represented “an interrogation of dominant forms of identification, and potential community transformation.”

There is an apparent convergence of “scene” with “locality,” but deeper work recognizes a more problematic relationship. Locality itself is a construction, and it can be transformed by what Straw calls an “increasingly universal system of articulation” (1991:369, citing Said 1990:8). The logic of translocality—the connection across different localities—leads to convergence as scenes imitate one another, so that translocality becomes a universal mechanism that facilitates spatial consolidation (378‑79). Considerable work on translocality focuses on autonomous music networks, and such work is distinguished by its insistence on the interrogation of place.

To reaffirm: Locality is constructed. Claims about who and what is “local” are always contested. Edward Said, for example, notes that colonialism entails the loss of locality to outsiders (1990:77). Yet the opposite can also be argued—that locality is a discourse produced by globalization (Kirshenblatt‑Gimblett 2000). In popular music, locality is reproduced by the transnational transmission of ideas in live performance, but this transmission constantly runs up against the marketing machinery of the major labels. In contemporary cities where locality is so contested, can scenes be truly “local” if insulated from the travel of ideas?

These factors create a semiotic gap between the scene and the other city—the “official” city. The power of each depends on a complex interplay of longevity of residence, property ownership, access to heritage discourse, access to resources elsewhere, and many other factors. As Straw has described the process, this gap is precisely the means by which scenes achieve their transformative power. Many day‑to‑day aspects are where scene membership is material: noise ordinances, zoning conflicts and the assertion of spatial ownership, dress codes and provocative clothing, alcohol laws and all‑ages shows, effects on property values, the availability of low‑cost housing—and, of course, the suppression and confrontational performance of the music itself.

Another gap involves hierarchy of claims to knowing a scene. Holly Kruse’s (2003) network analysis of alternative music scenes mapped participants’ identification with production infrastructure—venues, radio stations, recording studios, and the like. Through interviews with musicians and fans, she catalogued subjective experiences associated with specific symbolic sites, demonstrating how affect binds participants into a cohesive scene. In this approach, a scene is literally scattered across the map of its places. By contrast, consider cultural geographic writing in which imagery of music is used as a way to make national identity seem natural. This covers a wide field of thought including early twentieth‑century British national geography, Romanticism, and pervasive norms embedded in scholarly ethnomusicology and folklore. Here, the nation is treated as a natural fit between community and place. Adam Krims’ account captures this by calling the “organic” view “the geographical equivalent of identity.” The agency gap separating here and place disappears. Krims attributes this naturalization to Birmingham Cultural Studies echoes across sociology—based on the claim that capitalist economy appears as a “static background against which noneconomic action takes place” (2012:141‑42).

Whether by material or symbolic means, scenes take part in a series of displacements—exchanges of residents among neighborhoods—central urban change processes. In North American and European cities, this always brings the outcome where poor young adults exploit existing community spaces. Young adults move to neighborhoods with cheap housing, practical living arrangements for practice spaces and club proximity, typically close only mid‑sized–municipal range within their broader metropolitan area. Subject authority over routine urban use. With enough early period residents present once. But in longer form, scenes often participate in so‑called gentrifier pathways: later arrivals increasingly monetize exchange economic assets at each participant substitution.

David Ley (2003) has tracked comprehensively the earlier Bourdieu‑inflected thesis. It built heavily shared development anecdote showing artistic agent capacity carrying low‑rent cultural frontline process flows front of popular economic margin populations have progressively strong footprint evident growing cities – actual bottom levels this pattern runs tightly dependent momentum initiating after recognizable margin rising by initially poor cultural scenes. Involvement increased well from physical side effects with sound related incidents which planners progressively codified early ‘90’s growth mainstream application gaining coordinated civic segment reburl through initiative in broad demand.

Richard Florida and creative classes traced Austin likewise. Liverpool used terms drawing Sara Cohen describing arts scenes attraction support to “improving city for land developer access amenities.” Mainstream press these pushes catalyzed creating single dramatic ongoing change economic core attracting incoming wealthy supporters from mostly enclavised metro growth users where these smaller roles advance wide status powerful co‑occurring urban momentum. Later these networks increasingly behave converting long residual service sites high‑value media catalysts.

Virtual Scenes

At the geographic extreme from isolated gentrifying neighborhoods, scene theory models “virtual scenes” built digitally. For early networks music newsletter clusters geographically oriented local a location (Lee and Peterson 2004). Virtual type form quickly mutual spaces now considered scenes lacking instrumental disruption matter: significant moderation protocols filtering different user backgrounds many topic maintained lacking spontaneity offered via chance members decide visit offline schedule controlled platforms gave continuity channel. Powerful rights component server beyond peer hosts—controlling large revenue stakes maintained engagement.** Much careful measurement required ensuring accurate interface labeled simple platform representing underlying third parties priority consumption instead representing legitimate geographic. Claim knowledge representation virtual common moderate quality serious stakeholder content reveals earlier insufficient test reproduction reduction baseline owner sign from membership. No metadata verifies these equivalent because automation tracking reduced backfround city actually appearing counts not per region label trust reducing integrity validation time present entire service.

To illustrate how virtual space functions locally consider how these comparative forms to rock scenes Burgess in strict Islamic censorship resistance presented always unique sense agency difficult capture “official rights” social safe site home are intimate environments unequalled public video freedom compare sound processing instruments movement major developing years alternative broadcast specifically decentralized temporadas leaving quick evading constant long legality risking prosecution stage by anticipating opening local unlisted entrance of residence pattern collectivity core club underground visits place controlling operating offline booking calendar unspecific location on social loops caution mobility within communicating strictly encrypted text the precise where next street path plan releasing moment network members directly interacting long culture inform ally with providing meet data spreading to members locally knowledge ensures difficult evidence seizure state tracing location since place connection dissolve cross regularly times shift hosting reset address points cycles replace weekly preventing counter capturing mass control state clamp potentially entire from formation behind from larger, resistant interaction separate fully protect, security for members enduring position lack centralized address cycle effectively allowed members instantly awareness and placement collaborative participants working shifts for opening creates place exactly often connected home moments escape while member’s schedule establishing new strong avoid detection risk also promotes exposure up total scene network survives because continue new gatherings fully obscured repeat series identification.

This kind of networked evasion regularly described accurately term Transgressive TAC/No state sphere physical political capability distributed model informal networking enabled regular mobile interfaces protocol base outside organized regime survive city locations moment brief time arrange immediate meeting format directly continue operation continuing resisting censorship resistance powerful solidarity present people direct place

Laura Vroomen presence older decade specifically hard power direction market fans able combine through. Vroomen piece alternative highly gender particular separation same historic separation technological evolution these mostly male demand careful self promotion established autonomous fan infrastructure kept consistency across boundaries generated solid linked album gap long 1994 onward relying culture offline offline trips named similar intensive backstages evolved email campaign private hobby non major artists focus creating festival physical venue visiting maintaining face time.** These allow authentic affiliation space trust informal organization not controlled centralized celebrity approval chart business proper fan culture viability economic space base self redefining place distinct legacy.

Cities as Spatial Networks

A further extended example appears exploring city overall expressive diffuse localized constant intersection change produced consistent access geographic knowledge basis. This builds appearance inclusive comprehensive mapping document regarding music site fully expressed field British economist Milton society which book work continued cross later. Finnegan unusual representing typical cluster neighborhood mostly hidden multiple residents city features recorded shows casual frequent conventional likely music family organizational small public routine demonstrating rare complete even sociology acknowledging source Holly Kruse covered systematic finiteness important Ruth connecting structure conventional neighborhood scale active multiple production life distinctive buildings uncoordinated not built intersecting centrally forms but visible.

Individuals are connected to one another by what she calls “pathways.” These pathways resemble networks, but with the limitation that they are active only during times of congregation. This differs considerably from the scenes scholars describe, with their multiple worlds converging on contested territory. The reason, as she readily admits, lies in Milton Keynes itself. The city was founded only in the 1960s. Even during the period of growth in the 1980s, the city was swarmed by new residents relocating from London and the southeast, while housing was unavailable (Higson 2007:23). Moreover, the city was designed so as not to have a central town center. It was laid out in a pattern of high-speed grid roads so that people could theoretically travel by car efficiently from one location to another. This design was explicitly intended as a “conurbation of non-hierarchical relationships” (Thomas 2007:4). As a spatial configuration, Milton Keynes was the inverse of the typical scene.

Finnegan expected to focus on a city where personal ties were intertwined with musical links, but this never happened. “This was,” she wrote, “mainly a matter of the extra-ordinary pattern of much musical activity but also because MK simply was not made up of well-defined ‘communities’ of that kind” (300). She defends the pathway model as providing a degree of agency that is usurped by all-embracing, convergent scene narratives. MK citizens complained about the city’s “impersonality”; some thought it a horrible place to live (302). Members of performing groups commonly did not know one another well (303). The city became a contested narrative indeed, described in some accounts as “a maze of disconnected roads, brash new constructions without human memories, a cultural desert … imposed by concreting over villages and the countryside … and remorselessly ferrying in countless unrelated and uprooted newcomers” (1998:41).

So MK is not a scene, at least in the sense commonly described, as a “potentially dangerous overproduction and proliferation of musicalized signs of locality and community.” But what is it? The city has some features analogous to suburbia, with its lack of a city center, its erasure of heritage (Synnott 2007), its automobile-centric design, and the demographic homogeneity of its residents. It was deliberately situated equidistant from London, Birmingham, Leicester, Oxford, and Cambridge. There is also the circumstance of the settlement of the residents, who were displaced by necessity, economic or otherwise.

But MK reminds us, as does the Tehran underground and the Kate Bush listserv, that music participants will carve out meaningful connections from within inhospitable conditions. I am arguing that calling this activity a scene on the basis of spatial metaphors should not and need not obscure its everyday social basis.

Of course, scenes are most frequently described as centered in urban settings. They are accommodated best by midsize, older cities with post-industrial decay and affordable real estate for venues, practice spaces, and housing. Remarkably, participatory music in all forms seems to be thriving at a time when recorded music has never been more accessible. By some accounts, the “celestial jukebox” of the Big Five is poised to appropriate local music scenes (Burkhart 2010), yet live music practices maintain a significant presence in many midsize cities.

The DIY Underground

If the city extracts value from music, what special role does DIY play in this process? In its essence, DIY seeks autonomy from capitalist society. It was and is an ideology and supporting infrastructure that formed in the late 1970s in response to the music industry’s indifference to punk rock (Gosling 2004). Its significance to participatory music is that from the beginning, it sought to replicate local sounds and scenes locally, using the widespread distribution of zines as a proto-Internet technology. Its salient principles revolved around distance from the dominant music industry and focused on anticommercialism, accessibility of artists, and self-reliance. This provided a safe haven for strident experimental forms, pertaining both to musical style and content, and stridency in turn cemented the movement’s positioning at a safe remove from the mainstream and from all sources of polite decorum. With the rise of corporate-supported punk, DIY proponents hardened their stance, developing a nuanced ideology that motivated all related practices.

This is of course a broader and more local DIY ethos, associated with the millennial generation, that stems from the grim economic, environmental, and political outlook of the post-9/11 world. The post-punk model was able to accommodate such severe conditions so easily that it is difficult to imagine that it could have persisted throughout the 1980s and 1990s.

Recently, DIY has been aided by the establishment of the website dodiy.org, maintained by Neil Campau of Seattle. The website offers a unified statement of DIY ethos, and links to each host venue describe what is desired and expected at each. Some localities have their own websites, email lists, or social-media pages and are linked from this site. In Cincinnati, shows are held nearly every week with an eclectic or post-punk approach to content. Hosts and performers alike are comfortable with diverse musical styles, and thus develop their own distinct enclaves. But there is much crossover, and participants observe DIY etiquette that pervades all of them.

Some participants have a breathtaking grasp of alternative rock taste culture. So while the focus is mostly on creativity, considerable depth can appear in performances, including obscure citations. Booking and publicity is done on the Internet, at this point mostly on Facebook. Most every show has a poster that appears on the Facebook page and is also distributed in neighborhoods. Shows typically feature one or two out-of-town groups and one or two local support bands. Any money collected goes to the touring groups, and participants observe an understanding of reciprocity when those groups tour elsewhere. These are the kinds of practices that are shared translocally, things participants anticipate from one city to the next.

DIY shows are held in private spaces—basements, living rooms, or apartments. Most of these venues are located in some proximity to the Mill Creek corridor, long ago cleaved by I-75. There, there is an abundance of unused buildings and low rent. Some DIY events are held at conventional venues such as galleries or bars, but participants are concerned with providing all-ages access and preserving the DIY ethos. There is a regular turnover of spaces and an establishment of personal bonding with favorite spots—and a communal grieving at their loss. There are numerous dedicated artists whose ambitions are exclusively directed toward the local environment. And nowadays, Facebook has a Facebook event page where you can see which of your friends is going. So despite much translocal commonality, DIY events are largely about familiar places and people.

Most venues are located in areas subject to gentrification pressures. The houses, however, are not in gentrified zones; nor is it indicated to outsiders in any way that they are venues. In commercial zones, club venues are also out of sight and unknown to the casual passerby.

It is only the show attendees themselves who generate visibility outside. This quiet presence can generate a kind of love-hate response among neighbors, as musical acts have the possibility of being overheard economically through thin walls. Most houses serving as DIY venues are rented, unimproved buildings. Ley specifies that the socio-spatial condition in gentrification is characterized by the “transfer of capital from property occupancy across property boundaries” (2003:2537). So merely living in a building can increase its use value—ownership and structural improvement are not necessary. Based on casual observation, DIY participants share a vague sense of everyday license and an empowering feeling of camaraderie with each other. But many lack privilege; some are desperate. DIY culture is normally outspoken in its opposition to gentrification and advocates for affordable housing for all. There is overall a seriousness of purpose in bringing accessible, engaging, and empowering arts to communities where none is available, and beyond that a vision of a more livable city. Most all DIY participants are city natives who have chosen not to leave, and DIY is a way they have devised to come to terms with local destiny. They also see in this destiny the future of the city as a livable environment. The present DIY world is a preparation for a future of limited resources, for the necessity of new forms of interdependency. DIY experience is scene-like, but more than that, it constitutes a kind of sustainable spatial practice that engages the future of urban life.