It’s a Sunday night at Rangel Boxing gym. The lingering scent of sweat mingles with cigarette smoke from the parking lot and the buzz of anticipation. Teenagers, some barely old enough to drive, gather by the propped doors, eager for the first notes to ring out from a boxing ring that, tonight, doubles as a stage.
This is the evolving face of the Las Vegas all-ages music scene, where kids pile into makeshift sanctuaries to hear live music.
Cristian Alexis Alfaro, frontman of local band Los Emptys and head of La Palma booking, had a hand in putting on Sunday’s show. While the headliner that night was Floats, a Texas-based indie surf-punk band, the supporting acts were all local. Digging into his musical contacts, Alfaro booked Mutual Head, Desert Island Boys and his own band as the undercard.
The Desert Island Boys At Rangel Boxing
“I’ve been going to house shows forever, dude. Dirt backyards, all that sh**,” he said in between running the gig. “We’re definitely in a better space now than we were then, but there’s still not enough [all-age venues].”
Speaking from personal experience, as a teen chasing down flyers with half-legible addresses, “venue” often meant someone’s living room or a dirt lot way out past civilization. It was a generator show in the desert, a house party or a warehouse function tucked away on a backstreet.
There was chaos, but also a magic that kept us coming back. And when you’re trying to scream your guts out alongside others who get it, that chaos is not always safe. There were the inevitable fights and cops shutting things down before the headliner could even plug in. There were drugs and alcohol. There were even predatory people looking to take advantage of young, impressionable concertgoers.
But what started in sketchy house shows—where the keg out back often mattered more than the band inside—is finding footing in safer, smarter spaces. The scene is still raw, still real, but run with the kind of care only people who’ve lived it can offer.
Mutual Head performs at Rangel Boxing.
When Heaven By Violence booking’s Kat Mantor was growing up in Moapa Valley, she’d been in and out of the music scene since she was 16, fulfilling roadie duties for touring bands and running the door at the now-defunct Bunkhouse Saloon. Now, she books tours and shows and manages bands. Her drive remains rooted in a simple truth: Some kids have nowhere else to go.
“I can’t speak for everybody else, but these shows are so important to me. I had a rough upbringing, and I grew up in a rural area, coming into Vegas to go to shows when I was a teenager. That was all I had to look forward to,” says Mantor. “These kids who come to these shows … we don’t know what their home lives are and sometimes this is the only community they have. This is the only family they have.”
People like Mantor and Pam Pereira of 1-800-Deadass Productions are curating spaces where the next generation doesn’t have to trade safety for access. They’re building a stabler foundation alongside a whole lineup of like-minded show promoters. But the challenges of maintaining these venues persist. The lack of permanent all-age sites continues to plague the scene, forcing promoters to constantly adapt.
Scrutiny at Dragon's Lair
Pereira, who has been in the trenches of the local underground scene for more than 20 years, is blunt about the risks she’s taking booking these shows.
“We don’t have to do this for these kids at all. And it is, in fact, a lot easier to have a 21-plus show at say, the Griffin,” she says. “But we want to be able to host for the youth, because growing up here, I felt pretty deprived from seeing any music that I personally enjoy. ... I also raised my kid here, who is now 22, who also was deprived from seeing a lot of cool acts. I want to give people what we didn’t have.”
Vegas isn’t built for the under-21 crowd. There was a brief time when people could rely on places like Jillian’s, Huntridge Theater and The Farm. But today, rotating DIY spots are hard to find, hard to maintain and sometimes disappear overnight. At Rangel Boxing, 18-year-old Alexander Shirley took a beat between sets (and moshing) to reflect on the current state of the all-age scene.
“I kind of like the DIY aspect. However, the dedicated venues would definitely give it a more facilitated feel. It’s hard to find things like this, since they’re sort of one-off,” Shirley said. “But if there was a dedicated venue type of deal … it’d be a huge thing. It’d create community and that’s all everybody wants.”
Because there isn’t a venue fully committed to crowds of all ages, promoters have had to get creative with the places they book. The result? An unpredictable circuit of unconventional venues. Currently on that roster are the aforementioned boxing gym, Sliced Pizza, Brew It Coffee House, Voodoo Brewing Company’s outdoor patio, and a sprinkling of random places like comic book and record shops that sometimes work out and sometimes don’t.
Imprizon at Sliced Pizza
“Honestly, that’s kind of what it takes,” says Pereira. “These old heads, these people who have businesses, if they have ever had interest in music in their lives, then they’re probably more likely to want to host.”
Sometimes rejection happens, which has led to Pereira offering up her home as a venue and crash pad for touring bands. Known as the “Dragon’s Lair,” her living room is fully decked out with ambient colored lighting, fog machines and plenty of curated vintage swag. Run by Pereira, her partner and her daughter, 1-800-Deadass Productions keeps a smooth run of shows and $10 tickets at the door.
Blackpath Booking, a stalwart of the hardcore realm for years, has been instrumental in bringing major bands to town. Alongside venues like Eagle Aerie Hall and American Legion Post 8, both veterans halls by day, they’ve created reliable spaces where hardcore, punk and metal thrive. Outlook Fanzine fits in that same vein. The local zine and promoter is celebrating its 10-year anniversary this month.
Like many music scenes around the world, ours is self-reliant. There’s the homegrown bands and musicians, but also photographers, bloggers and more. Bands tend to experience crossover, too. Oftentimes, musicians leave one project to hop on another and keep the sound evolving. The scene isn’t just surviving, it’s building upon itself and maturing.
Sincerely Yours at Voodoo Brewing Company's patio
“The scene is a lot less violent than it used to be,” says Mantor. “We used to have kind of a reputation for being a rough city, especially when it came to hardcore [music]. For a while, bands didn’t want to come here because Vegas had such a poor reputation. But I feel like, especially with Blackpath, we’re getting into a place where bands want to come here again, and we have a scene that can be respected.”
There’s respect for the scene, and there also needs to be respect for the space, which is why enforcing house rules is imperative. It’s simple: Respect the venue, respect those around you and don’t burn out the spot with your parking lot shenanigans.
“I always tell the kids this, well I say this to everybody, ‘If you can’t do it at your mom’s house, don’t do it at ours,’” says Pereira.
This dynamic community is fiercely protective of its space. People are aware of what’s been built, and there’s a sense of responsibility for keeping it in good shape.
The lack of all-ages venues here isn’t just an inconvenience, it’s a call to action. For all its chaos, the DIY scene is a testament to the resilience of a community that refuses to stop. With dedicated promoters continuing to push for space, the next chapter in this story could very well bring more permanent homes for these vital gigs.
It’s up to the punks, the rockers and the moshers to decide how things evolve. And as long as they keep showing up, Vegas will be a home to their community.
“At the end of the day, it’s the kids who are carrying the scene,” Pereira says.
