While many North Side music venues tended to draw a majority-white audience, and the Fireside was no exception, shows there were often a reminder that the punk scene strived to be inclusive. Two friends sit outside the Fireside in July 2004. Though on paper the venue operated as a hall that could be rented out (similar to a VFW) to bands, in practice it was a punk music destination at a bowling alley that was quickly gaining national recognition.
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The Fireside was starting to hit its stride. Peterson and Eaves were booking shows several nights a week. “I could always get the vocals up over the band at the Fireside.”īy the summer of 1994, the Fireside started to become known more as a music venue than a bowling alley. “For me, the Fireside was easy because it had that sort of a more dead sound…because it has acoustical tile ceiling… wood paneling walls,” he said. Though a bowling alley might not seem like an ideal spot for a decent sounding live music experience, Elliot Dicks – who oversaw sound at the Fireside – said it wasn’t as bad as you might think. RakstadĪs things started to take off, Peterson realized he needed staff - including live sound engineers and people to work the door - to keep shows running. ‘Sound man extraordinaire’ Elliot Dicks was one of several live sound engineers who kept shows running at the Fireside.