Tacoma, Washington is one of those strange progressive cities that loves its arts and local artists, but not the conditions these artists thrive on to create. The few main streets downtown boast a near-immaculate appearance, with many theaters, galleries, trendy secondhand stores, and upscale restaurants. The gentrification of the downtown area is immediately noticeable, however, once you take a trip up Tacoma’s steep hills. Having the third highest violent crime rate in the US in 1993, the area known to locals as Hilltop was a notoriously bitter battleground between gangs peddling crack. Today, the area has been cleaned up considerably; the gangs are still around but it is no longer a place where one must worry about getting caught in the middle of a drive-by while walking down the street. When the heat came down on Hilltop, slowly but surely the makeup of its residents changed. The gang leaders were either dead or imprisoned, and soon enough artists and hipsters moved in.

In contrast, Tacoma’s garage rock scene has been literally booming since the 1960s. The city has given birth to The Sonics, The Ventures, The Wailers, Girl Trouble, and Neko Case, among many other great bands and musicians. While all-ages venues are scarce, the real Tacoma scene is where the epicenter of the American underground has always been: in sweaty basements and smoke-filled practice spaces, a real-life representation of the Ouroboros as the old houses get shut down and new ones pop up.

Tucked away deep in the heart of Hilltop resides a place new to the house show scene: Hilltop Hollows, an unassuming one-story house with a disproportionately large shed in the backyard. The show took place inside of the shed, which had been converted into a practice space complete with a makeshift bar and decorated with a haggard chandelier and old, warped records covering the walls. Between the increasingly heavy rainfall and the placidity of the rest of the street, the growing volume of people coming to the house was evocative of the riotous days of Hilltop’s past, though in a completely different way.

Inside the practice space, the combination of damp clothes and cigarette smoke created a musty, acrid smell that intensified as the night progressed and more people filed in from the outside world. For this night, as is the case with every house show in Tacoma, the city was ours — a demonstration of a world that could be, one in which art and the conditions that create that art are one in the same and both are equally heralded.

Speed Wobbles, an infant to the world of Tacoma music, was the first band of the night. It was also their first show. Their music was rather straightforward indie, spiced with the occasional Buzzcocks-esque quirk. Although they weren’t as tight as they would have liked (as comments such as, “Sorry we keep messing up, this is pretty much just a practice session in front of a lot of people,” prove) and their stage presence was more or less awkward, the potential for this five-piece to become great once they find their footing is there.

After an excruciatingly long break after Speed Wobbles’ set, followed by an even longer set up period, Jeffertitti’s Nile went on. As one of the last stops on their tour with Seattle’s Night Beats, this Californian psych-freakout band looked road worn, but managed to pull together a forcefully impassioned set. Their recordings don’t begin to do the band’s live sound or looks justice — they sounded like they were raised on desert voodoo and a trunk full of scratched up Gun Club records; their appearance was equally outlandish, half of them looking like feral burnouts from space while the other half were closer to ’60s mods — a rather bizarre contrast. Overall, they were somewhat of an amalgam of influential genres from the last few decades; the drums were played with mallets à la Maureen Tucker of the Velvet Underground, the synth was in the forefront like New Order, and the guitarist brought similarities of a young Roky Erickson — but what a great amalgam that is!

Tacoma’s best kept secret, the Drug Purse played next and, due to outside circumstances, last. After a minor confusion over a misplaced guitar the band tore right into a blissed out cover of Spacemen 3’s “Mary Ann.” The Drug Purse had been mostly inactive over the past year (rumors about members getting abducted, going comatose, and hitting rock bottom in California abounded, it’s unclear if there’s truth behind any of these, however), leaving a hole in the Tacoma scene that no band had stepped up to fill, and although they’re getting older, they still put on one hell of a performance. For the next half hour, the crowd who hadn’t gotten too drunk by that point were treated to perhaps the tightest set that these guys have put on in a long time. For such a great band it’s a surprise that they’re so unknown outside of this city — people really need to hear their dirty, droning, drugged-out garage psychedelia in the vein of the Black Angels. Towards the end of Drug Purse’s set, rumblings that the police had been called and many of the underage kids fled. This didn’t deter the band as they made light of the situation, cracked jokes (“Oh no kids, mommy and daddy are coming — better run”) and kept playing until the power got cut and TPD officers came through the back entrance. No arrests were made, but because of the uninvited party crashers, Night Beats weren’t able to play.

Places such as Hilltop Hollows breath life into a scene that if left strictly to the local venues can quickly become stale. House shows have always been the epicenter of DIY music scenes and become places where soon-to-be phenomenal bands, like many of the past greats have, hone their skills and have fun.