Jon Hoff of The Broken Neck
Punk rock in a grimy warehouse: An idea just crazy enough to work
The Broken Neck is hidden in an industrial center on the east side of Austin, a simple warehouse space ignobly set next to an auto-body repair shop and near the famous Arkie’s Grill. And while you wouldn’t know it from looking at it, it’s quietly become one of the most important venues in the city, all thanks to one man: Jon Hoff, punk aficionado and adherent of the DIY approach to booking that fed the ’80s hardcore scene and helped nurture the careers of bands like Minor Threat and Black Flag. Hoff’s forte for putting together local and touring shows, combined with his personal political bent (the venue has played host to benefits dedicated to ending the death penalty, among other hot-button topics), has made The Broken Neck a destination for people who take their noise and aggression seriously, while providing a home for punk that’s blessedly far from the madding crowd of Sixth Street. Decider spoke with Hoff about all the work that goes into building a place for people to tear things down.
Decider: Was putting The Broken Neck together totally a solo effort?
Jon Hoff: I’ve had help, but ultimately it’s just me. I tried the collective, cooperative thing. It’s never worked for me, whether it’s activism or any sort of project.
D: What types of shows are you interested in throwing here?
JH: I don’t really do metal. Punk and hardcore is my preference, but I’m not closed to anything. Those are just the kind of people I like to deal with, and I grew up listening to it. They know the rules and they respect the space. Maybe they’ve been to a venue like this before and seen it shut down, and they appreciate it more.
D: Was putting together a venue like this always a dream of yours?
JH: Honestly, no. The guys next door wanted their half of the warehouse for an auto shop, and they couldn’t afford a full lease. They had heard me talk about the idea, and I had two weeks to come up with the money and make the decision to commit, and so I did. I didn’t have a vision. I didn’t have a business plan, or an escape plan, or start-up money. It was just, “Oh, shit. I’ve got two weeks to decide. Let’s do it.”
D: Have you met with any resistance from the city as far as permits and so on?
JH: We have a permit from the fire marshal who comes in every month and inspects the place. It determines capacity and overall safety, which I love. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, so it’s win-win for me. That’s it as far as red tape goes. As far as other challenges, it’s mostly just drunken idiots causing problems outside.
D: Since The Broken Neck doesn’t sell alcohol, how do you manage to pay the rent?
JH: From the people who support it. They pay their five bucks, we pay the bands really well, and if there’s anything left it goes towards the space. And I have a job.
D: Isn't running this place a full time job also?
JH: Yeah, 30 to 40 hours, and it is work. It takes a lot out of me. It’s fun as shit, and I’m around brilliant people, but it’s stressful. I have to make sure nothing goes wrong, that everyone’s safe, that the cops don’t show up, that the neighbors are happy. Then it’s a couple of hours a night on phone calls, e-mails, cleaning. That’s always fun after a show. You have no idea how many fucking beer bottles and cans are in this place.
D: What’s been the best part of owning a venue?
JH: My favorite thing is when lots of different people come together and make a project happen. Where it starts as an idea, and then the show happens, and it’s brilliant and fun. Recently we flew out Inepsy from Canada. A production company came and filmed the show for an art piece that will be in galleries around the world. That’s two days of basically being on a film set and getting to party the whole time.
D: What would you like to see happen with The Broken Neck in the future?
JH: Just more good shows that are smart and utilize this place in a way that other places just can’t offer, either because they’re downtown or they serve alcohol. If shows happen here that aren’t punk rock and are really fun and successful, then I’m all for it. My job is making sure the space supports the artists and the people. One of the appealing things about this place is that you pay your five bucks and that’s it. If you’re hungry and you want a beer, figure it out on your own. I’m not here to make a bunch of money off of you.
Jon Hoff: I’ve had help, but ultimately it’s just me. I tried the collective, cooperative thing. It’s never worked for me, whether it’s activism or any sort of project.
D: What types of shows are you interested in throwing here?
JH: I don’t really do metal. Punk and hardcore is my preference, but I’m not closed to anything. Those are just the kind of people I like to deal with, and I grew up listening to it. They know the rules and they respect the space. Maybe they’ve been to a venue like this before and seen it shut down, and they appreciate it more.
D: Was putting together a venue like this always a dream of yours?
JH: Honestly, no. The guys next door wanted their half of the warehouse for an auto shop, and they couldn’t afford a full lease. They had heard me talk about the idea, and I had two weeks to come up with the money and make the decision to commit, and so I did. I didn’t have a vision. I didn’t have a business plan, or an escape plan, or start-up money. It was just, “Oh, shit. I’ve got two weeks to decide. Let’s do it.”
D: Have you met with any resistance from the city as far as permits and so on?
JH: We have a permit from the fire marshal who comes in every month and inspects the place. It determines capacity and overall safety, which I love. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, so it’s win-win for me. That’s it as far as red tape goes. As far as other challenges, it’s mostly just drunken idiots causing problems outside.
D: Since The Broken Neck doesn’t sell alcohol, how do you manage to pay the rent?
JH: From the people who support it. They pay their five bucks, we pay the bands really well, and if there’s anything left it goes towards the space. And I have a job.
D: Isn't running this place a full time job also?
JH: Yeah, 30 to 40 hours, and it is work. It takes a lot out of me. It’s fun as shit, and I’m around brilliant people, but it’s stressful. I have to make sure nothing goes wrong, that everyone’s safe, that the cops don’t show up, that the neighbors are happy. Then it’s a couple of hours a night on phone calls, e-mails, cleaning. That’s always fun after a show. You have no idea how many fucking beer bottles and cans are in this place.
D: What’s been the best part of owning a venue?
JH: My favorite thing is when lots of different people come together and make a project happen. Where it starts as an idea, and then the show happens, and it’s brilliant and fun. Recently we flew out Inepsy from Canada. A production company came and filmed the show for an art piece that will be in galleries around the world. That’s two days of basically being on a film set and getting to party the whole time.
D: What would you like to see happen with The Broken Neck in the future?
JH: Just more good shows that are smart and utilize this place in a way that other places just can’t offer, either because they’re downtown or they serve alcohol. If shows happen here that aren’t punk rock and are really fun and successful, then I’m all for it. My job is making sure the space supports the artists and the people. One of the appealing things about this place is that you pay your five bucks and that’s it. If you’re hungry and you want a beer, figure it out on your own. I’m not here to make a bunch of money off of you.
