The Arlene Francis Center for Spirit, Art, and Politics, known colloquially as the AFC, is a non-profit community gathering space in a refurbished flour mill in Santa Rosa’s Railroad Square.
It is an unassuming brick factory building with a small parking lot and a bright blue metal front door. Inside is a small cafe counter at the entrance, a connected classroom for community gatherings, workshops and NA meetings, and a larger venue space in the back.
The event space features a small stage, a sound booth and a massive beam running from floor to ceiling in the middle of the dance floor. Just a cursory walkthrough of the space will reveal signs of how well-used and well-loved the center is by its community, from its shabby but cozy decor to the numerous stickers of local bands and businesses adorning the walls of its bathrooms.
What isn’t immediately apparent is that the AFC is one of Sonoma County’s few all-ages concert venues with a dedicated “anything goes” ethos towards providing a platform for the area’s DIY music scene that has existed at its fringes for decades.
Sonoma County has always been friendly to musicians. It seems like there’s a brewery and tasting room on every block. As venues, the symbiosis between the area’s hospitality industry and the local music scene is a net good for everyone involved.
The issue, though, is that these shows typically cater to a specific kind of sound, an agreeable and non-confrontational sort of music that can create a fun atmosphere. However, this inevitably leads to a homogenization of genre as musicians shift toward music that’s most likely to get them booked.
“If the money at a show comes from selling alcohol or food, then the point of that show is to sell alcohol or food,” says Gabe Katz, a Sonoma County native who grew up in Sebastopol. “And while I don’t think that’s a bad thing, it drowns out opportunities to have shows that are more centered on the music being played.”
Since high school, Katz has played drums in numerous bands in Sonoma County’s DIY scene. Now 39 years old, he currently lives in Oakland but continues to do what he can to support the community that fostered his own interest in playing music. One way he does that is through the Unnamed Festival Project, which has its fourth installment at the AFC on March 15.
Katz began the Unnamed Festival Project in 2019. The festival was delayed/canceled in the following years due to Covid before returning in 2023. He is quick to let me know this is not a solo project of his and that he relies heavily on the efforts of friends and local music lovers who volunteer.
Along with being a fundraising event for the AFC, the festival’s driving philosophy is to give local bands and young musicians who are too young to play at wineries or don’t make music that food and drink venues book an opportunity to play for larger crowds than just their friends.
“If you are having an easy time booking gigs around town, then maybe this isn’t the festival for you,” says Katz. He is committed to the project because he believes a diverse representation of music matters, especially when it comes to hosting all-ages shows. “If you’re a kid here and you go out and see music, and it’s all just Americana, then you’re going to think to yourself, ‘Oh, I guess that’s just what music is.’ I like the idea of fighting for things that are a little more subversive.”
Katz has been an ardent supporter of the AFC for decades and believes that it is central to cultivating and encouraging a younger generation of musicians. “It’s a rare space,” he says, “one where you don’t have to be able to sell a hundred tickets to book a show. Anyone can perform there.”
For many local acts, the AFC hosts their first time playing for an audience. The Unnamed Festival Project is structured in such a way as to build up the audience for newer bands looking to expand their fan base. The show features 20 bands, most from Sonoma County and some from the greater Bay Area, each playing a 20-minute set. The idea is that each band will be able to draw its own crowd of friends and fans that will mesh with other bands’ friends and fans, creating a larger turnout for all acts involved.
“It’s hard to get people to come out to see their friend’s band play sometimes,” says Katz. “But what if they were coming out to see 20 bands play?” The past iterations of the festival have proven this “strength in numbers” mentality effective, and Katz hopes this continues to be the case for the upcoming show.
DIY music promotion has always been an uphill battle. Mitchell Buckley, a local musician and event organizer who has promoted shows with the AFC and is working with Katz on the Unnamed Festival Project, recognizes that the scene has taken a hit due to increased living costs in the area. “There used to be a lot more house shows around because people could actually afford to rent a house, but that’s not really the case anymore,” says Buckley. He worries that once spaces geared towards DIY music disappear, they aren’t likely to return.
“There isn’t going to be another place that does things like that. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. They’ll just build condos over it,” Buckley predicts. He makes a compelling case for anyone with an interest in their local music scene to support venues like the AFC, by saying, “If you give a shit about cool stuff happening in your community, this should matter to you.”
With all this talk about the importance of a diverse music scene, the question of what kind of music one can expect at the Unnamed Festival Project still remains. Audience members can anticipate a broad range of genres delivered in rapid-fire increments.
Surf-rock outfit SPF-1985, of which Katz himself is a member, will be cooking up some psych-inflected grooves. Nice World, a self-described “bubble-grunge” band, brings a novel mix of indie-rock, pop and heavier influences. There will be an experimental pop duo named Silas Fermoy. Wet Summer brings a heavier sound influenced by the Deftones and ’90s-era hard rock. Plus 16 other distinctive acts will be featured.
In essence, there will be a little something there for everyone.
Ultimately, few things are as low-risk and high-reward as supporting one’s local music scene. Tickets rarely cost more than $15. There isn’t an hours-long commute to get to the venue. Merch tables are filled with hidden gems, and wearing a local band T-shirt will never go out of style. Bands appreciate the turnout and tend to be more available to connect with after the show, usually at the aforementioned merch table.
Most importantly, it’s the easiest way to show that one—in the words of Buckley—gives a shit about what is happening in their community and to take part in the cultivation of a diverse and interesting, creative scene in their own backyard.
