From tires to tourists
In the annals of New Alliance stories, there are a few anecdotes people especially like to retell. There’s the one about walking in on a recording session of metal fiends Scissorfight and discovering their six-foot-tall, big-bellied, ZZ Top–bearded frontman — who goes by Ironlung, no less — slugging back whiskey in the dark … in his boxers. There’s the blind item about the local male guitarist who got so drunk at New Alliance one evening, he not only missed the New York–label showcase he was supposed to play later with his band, but was convinced they’d already played it. And then there’s the one about Zeph Courtney, who drummed for the post-hardcore Columbia-signed Stompbox and Juliana Hatfield, and who baptized the poolroom the day it was set up: Courtney supposedly got so boozily annoyed with the boorishness of Ms. Pigeon lead singer Oliver Clarke that in silent protest he defiantly urinated in the corner.

It’s Saturday afternoon at New Alliance in early January, one of the last weekends in the building’s history. Members of Wild Zero — the sort of blistering guitar solo of a band that Long calls "classic New Alliance" — are taking turns slapping a plastic axe that powers the music-video game Guitar Hero. They’re gathered around on stools in a waiting-room-style hangout that’s decorated with bric-a-brac (beer signs, small sculptures, found objects) and equipped with board games, a refrigerator, and a stereo. In an adjacent studio, spoken-word performer/heavy-metal dude Duncan Wilder Johnson is barking like a satanic drill sergeant; it’s so loud you can hear him through the walls.

Meanwhile, in that Courtney-christened poolroom, Alvan Long is leaning back in a short row of movie-theater-style chairs. The centerpiece is a pool table, but there’s also an impressive vinyl collection against the far wall. Surrounded by his own artwork — found objects stenciled with John Coltrane silhouettes — Long reels off a list of bands who’ve practiced here. "Campaign for Real Time, Stu Walker, Chelsea on Fire, Bleu, Vic Firecracker, Lamont, the Marvels, Bury the Needle, Powerman 5000 . . . Blake Babies. Tree and every incarnation of [artist] Dave Conley. The Lot Six. Stoic." Even Blue Man Group rented a room for six months, though they never used it.

"It ran at 98-percent capacity the whole time," says Long. "Nobody would ever move out. A band would break up, the bass player would take the room Monday, Wednesday, and Friday — the guitar player would take it Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday. No one ever left. There just wound up being a camaraderie over here, a community, a good vibe."

Talk with people about New Alliance and two words inevitably come up: "community" and "vibe." What everyone means is that the place is a local-rock nucleus, an atmosphere infused with the creative part of the musical process. Set lists are revised here. Side projects form with the dude down the hall. Hang around enough and you could end up guesting on somebody else’s metal record.

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"It is a clubhouse," says Duncan Wilder Johnson. "It’s an art gallery with lots of vinyl. People hang out in there," he says, pointing into the next room where Wild Zero are playing Guitar Hero, "play video games, and smoke weed. And in the next room, everyone gets rockin’."

New Alliance’s rock narrative began back in 1987, when Alvan Long was a drummer in the RCA-signed-then-screwed ’80s "hard-dance" band Down Avenue. The Rumble winners had been practicing in a building a few blocks away from New Alliance until the city usurped the site by eminent domain so it could construct a high-rise apartment complex. One day, Down Avenue’s sound engineer noticed a nearby auto-parts store with space for rent — he approached the owners about using it as a practice space and they told him he could move in and do whatever he wanted.

So Long and bandmate Don Foote did. ’Til Tuesday had also been displaced, so they came along. When they got there, the place was still filled with 10,000 tires. "Don Foote and I built all the rooms, with really hacked carpentry skills," recalls Long. "At most rehearsal places, the [rooms] are all the same size, but over here they’re based on decisions like, ‘That looks really hard to make that cut, so we’ll stop the room right there.’"

Technically, New Alliance Audio occupies only the basement recording studios, lounge, and office, although people often refer to the whole RFT complex as "the New Alliance building." Over the years, it’s become known for nurturing loud bands who traffic in stereo-beast riffs, throaty-metal rasps, rawk-spelled rock. Bands whose monikers succinctly express their aesthetic: Half Cocked, Rock City Crimewave, Cracktorch.