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False Alarm: The entrance to the Knit is actually down Fulton Alley, but it doesn't stop concertgoers from lining up streetside. Photo by Gary Pike |
CommentsAll About Music: The Knitting Factory
Reno's newest Concert Venue
By Jackie VarrianoPublished: February 11, 2010
Here I am in the bowels of the beast at Reno’s Knitting Factory. I’ve made it past the swank red velvet ropes at their alley entrance, down the stairs, and through the maze of employee lockers, kitchen staff, and the green room where the talent for the night, phenomenal French band Phoenix, is languishing preshow. (I try not to stare as I’m being led past.) I sit down with General Manager Dean Hanson; I sense the flurry of activity behind me as staff gets ready for the night. Hanson repeatedly answers the phone: “Knitting Factory, we’re sold out tonight ... Nope, we’re sold out. No tickets.”
Hanson looks at me with the pride of a new father; “This is our third sold-out show so far,” he says. No small feat for a new venue — which I mistakenly call a “nightclub” only to be reprimanded that it is a “concert house and events center” — that hosted its first show Jan. 1.
Founded in 1987 in New York City, “the Knit” has expanded from its humble beginnings to five clubs and numerous side projects, record labels, and touring divisions. Hanson was previously at the Boise, ID, concert house for eight years before making the move to Reno. “We saw a hole in the program,” said Hanson. “Casinos can be too expensive and other places may not have the production value we offer.” From the first decision to open in Reno to the actual opening date, it took a fast four-month remodel and $1 million to transform the former site of Rocky’s Sports Casino on downtown South Virginia Street to what is now the Knit. With a capacity of 1,265 people, a full kitchen that boasts “If you are here, our kitchen is open,” a balcony, numerous projection screens and flat screen TVs, and an amazing sound/lighting system, the Knit is all I could ask for in a concert venue.
All I could ask for?! I know, that’s saying a lot. Sure, it’s a nondescript black rectangle box. It lacks the character of the velvet curtains and antique chandeliers of some of my favorite music venues. But it has a nice long bar, another bar in the balcony, a wide enough stage that is amply elevated (even for my 5’3” frame), and — I’ll say it again — amazing sound and lights. I’ve been to shows in venues likened to a concrete box, where even Damian Marley can sound flat and quiet. I’ve been to huge amphitheaters where you feel disconnected from the music and fearful of the giant “slamdance” circles forming around you. But when Phoenix came onstage and threw out “Liztomania,” at the Knit I felt in tune, not only with the music but with the crowd around me. It can be easy to forget why you go see live music, which for me is because of the band. It isn’t for the paintings on the wall or the chairs available.
Whether you realize it or not, the band onstage is getting just as much of a feeling from you as you are (or aren’t) from them. This along with other reasons is why the Knit has decided to discontinue its VIP program. Originally, for a yearly membership of $2,850, a VIP member had tickets to all shows with exclusive balcony access. But the bands noticed that the VIP balcony just wasn’t as hopping as the floor and wondered why the people with the best seats in the house really didn’t look like they were having the best time. According to Hanson, that was just about the only hiccup in the road so far.
My only complaint about the Knit would be the food. It’s not about the quality or the pricing, but the convenience. As it stands, you must order food from one of the four bartenders working the main level bar. I couldn’t find a cocktail waitress for the life of me, so I’m not sure if I could’ve placed an order with one. When I placed my order to the Tommy Lee–lookalike he not only swore at me, but told me, “Be back in 15 minutes for this, cause I’m not comin’ lookin’ for ya honey.” When I arrived back at the bar in the requested 15 minutes he proceeded to throw my chicken sandwich at me. Slightly offended, I understood. As a former bartender, I understand it must be a hassle having people order food in a loud club-like atmosphere. It must be even more frustrating when those people forget their food and your tight bar space fills up with baskets full of burgers, nachos, and mozzarella sticks. Everything else at the Knit seems to be running smoothly, why not the food? I’m not sure of the solution; I only know this is not ideal.
All things considered, get down to Reno and take in a show at the Knit. Even though according to Hanson they opened at the worst time of the year (“bands are afraid of the weather”), they’ve got about 16 shows lined up for February and Hanson is hoping to have 20 to 25 a month once the weather warms.
The Knitting Factory, 211 North Virginia Street, Reno, (775) 323-5648, re.knittingfactory.com
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