I recently joined a website community called Dead Format which is a place for people who love vinyl can nerd out. A profile came across my feed: someone in Atlanta who tours vinyl shops there. (Which is such a neat concept!) I left a comment saying I'm from Atlanta and grew up there, and the Masquerade was a huge part of that.
As I was walking my dog, I left my phone at home to just do some thinking and I came to the conclusion that the Masquerade is where I learned how to be a human. I grew up in a cookie cutter suburb, which has now turned into one of the richest areas of Georgia: Alpharetta. I wouldn't say it was sheltered, but it certainly was homogenous. We had all the same stuff every suburb did at the time and it was quite boring. The fun thing to do was go to Starbucks and sit. When I got word of a band I loved being at this place called the Masquerade I knew I wanted to go.
Getting there was an adventure in itself. Back in 2003 we didn't have GPS navigation on our phones. I had to print directions off and hope I could remember the turn I needed to make. After getting lost and some paramedics helping me, I arrived at what would basically be my second home for the next 4 years.
The biggest room, Heaven, was a level room. There was no VIP area, no seats, no area for someone else to lord over the others. It was one big room that was filled with sound. If it was an indie or emo band we'd all crowd the stage and sing along. If it was a hardcore band then we'd crowd surf and go wild.
The best part though was that everyone in this venue was equal. The band was a mere 2 feet above the crowd, with no big barrier. At the end of the show the band could put their guitars down, step off the stage, and hang out. Which a lot of bands did. And then large groups would go to Fellini's Pizza right down the road on Ponce De Leon.
The Masquerade showed me it didn't matter what everyone looked like, how they dressed, what they could or couldn't afford, who they loved, or anything else. It showed me that music, and venues like the Masquerade, has a way of stripping all of that away and leaving only the people.
So I may say I'm from Atlanta, but I really grew up in the Masquerade.