Crown and Anchor as we know it is still dead. The CBD is dying. How many coffee shops do we need? | Matt Welch

Mali can show up at the last second and call this a win but reality hits harder than an AC/DC riff, writes Matt Welch.

The death knell of rock ‘n’ roll in South Australia.

Walking through the doors, you’re met with the humming of a warming up amp, a stale liquor and sweat smell hits you right in the nose and the beer buzz elevates your good time.

The musician swings their guitar over the shoulder, releases the volume knob to 10, and a screaming feedback driven guitar riff bursts over the soundwaves filling everyone’s ears inside this little sweatbox full of joy as they headbang their weekly worries away.

Well, that’s over.

On Sunday, August 18, 2024 it was announced that the beloved South Australian live music icon the Crown & Anchor would be saved from the wrecking ball of gentrification along with the physical one, and live music would live on forever.

Give me a break.

Two years to soundproof it?

TELL US WHY IN THE COMMENTS

With overseas company Wee Hur Holdings claiming they wanted to turn the Crown and Anchor into ‘a cafe and yoga studio’ I laugh drenched in sarcasm at the idea music will be played here ‘forever more’

What will most likely happen?

The C&A will be gutted, bled out, gentrified, and you’ll hear live music from an acoustic artist singing watered down versions of top 40 pop songs. That’s not the Crown and Anchor we’re fighting to save.

In the end, Adelaide loses another cultural institution under a false claim for a win.

It feels like a cheap trick. And I’m not talking about the legendary band.

There’s always a catch when it comes to the arts.

The arts are everywhere you look – from a company’s logo, the catchy phrase from an advert, the murals that brighten up your Sunday afternoon walk, the music on the airwaves that brings you joy or a nostalgic feeling over a cool cocktail on a warm Saturday night.

We take art for granted.

South Australian Premier Peter Malinauskas addressed the crowd at Sunday’s protest to save the Crown and Anchor from developmentn plans. Picture: Jessica Renaglia

Wee Hur Holdings have new plans for the Crown & Anchor Hotel now. But is protecting “live music” enough? Picture: Supplied

If you’re an older reader who’s asking themselves, “who cares”, without bars like this, bands of your era, AC/DC, Australian Crawl, Cold Chisel, The Angels, Midnight Oil wouldn’t be here. And the list goes on.

They all cut their teeth with a mouthful of blood screaming their lungs out and earning their stripes with proving ground bars like the Crown and Anchor.

And I bet they got paid nothing, and loved every second.

This was our Frankie’s Pizza which also got taken away.

It was our Cherry bar which was moved from AC/DC Lane due to noise complaints. It was our CBGBs, our Rainbow Bar.

It has that rock ‘n’ roll mystic about the place. It let the freaks rule the roost.

We’ve all heard complaints about the current state of music. The fact is there are some excellent bands out there, but they need a place to hone their craft.

To say we have other live music venues like The Gov, Thebby Theatre to play at is silly. Those venues are amazing. I love them and have played on both.

There’s a good reason such a passionate and hardworking group of protestors formed so quickly. Picture: Matt Loxton

The Save the Cranker rally outside of Parliament on Sunday. Picture: Matt Loxton

An absolute honour every time, but you have to have a bit of a following, it’s not a place you can learn the trade.

I’m so glad I got to roam the stage of SA’s rock ‘n’ roll Garden of Eden for upcoming musicians, because it won’t be the same.

The Premier can show up at the last second and beat on about how this is a win, but reality hits harder than the Back in Black riff, and it’s a false win.

All of this just screams dropping the ball.

The CBD is dying. Bars and venues closing left right and centre.

How many generic coffee shops do you need? Give the city some life!

Spinal Tap’s Nigel Tufnel once famously said about their amp’s volume knobs ‘these ones go to 11’.

As funny as the scene was, I’d confidently bet that no amp on Union Street (or Grenfell, depending which way you arrive) will go above two and I don’t find that very amusing at all.

Matt Welch is a homepage editor for The Advertiser/Sunday Mail and a member of Adelaide metal band Dirty Pagans.