Ziona Riley at The Mouthhole, 7/27/2024
For more than a decade, something extraordinary has been bubbling ominously in a dank Nashville basement. Along with friend Michael Sadler, brothers Zac and Travis Caffrey have created a space for musicians and artists of all ages, backgrounds and tastes to connect and experiment in a relaxed atmosphere that embraces eccentricity: their DIY venue The Mouthhole.
At The Mouthhole, 7/27/2024
There’s never a cost to enter, but there is usually some kind of running bit based on the night’s theme. Though they play elsewhere, the residents’ musical acts often serve as (literal) house bands: Travis Caffrey and Sadler make up abrasive, sardonic avant-rock duo The Chewers, while Zac Caffrey often appears in his ape mask, performing out-of-this-world industrially inclined electronic music as Chop Chop Chang.
On July 26 and 27, the space and its denizens marked a milestone with Fest(er) X, the 10th edition of their annual two-day music showcase. “Everybody who performed at Fest(er) gets a big X!” shouted Zac during a brief pause in the revelry, commanding the crowd to cross our arms. He and fellow emcee Sadler also prompted a round of giant X’s in honor of everyone who attended.
Following Caroline Red’s energetic pop-centric set, Ziona Riley cast a spell with her melodic post-folk tunes. Shortly, Riley was back onstage with art-punk outfit Heinous Orca, alongside sisters Isabel and Laura Solomon and Austin Hoke. Emphasizing the communal atmosphere, no sooner had Hoke left the stage than he returned with his cello, adding an ethereal edginess to Chop Chop Chang (which on Saturday was dubbed “Chop Chop Cello”). The Chewers put an exclamation point on the live-music portion of the festivities.
Caroline Red at The Mouthhole, 7/27/2024
Despite the noise of the concert and the dozens of people in attendance, The Mouthhole was virtually imperceptible from the street leading up to it. A few signs direct guests to the basement, which is filled with a decade’s worth of ephemera and tchotchkes. There’s artwork on display throughout the house, and chalk doodles cover the walls. Fake spiderwebs are draped over a chandelier; real spiderwebs intertwine with string lights that probably don’t work. By the end of the night, the floor in the performance space was covered in glitter — Fest(er) tradition calls for willing participants to partake in a glitter bombing.
Though gatherings at The Mouthhole feel organic, they are intentional. In an interview with all three residents prior to Fest(er) X, Sadler explains that he and Travis Caffrey met as theater students in West Virginia. Having arrived in Nashville separately in the early 2010s, the three sought out a house that would be suitable for hosting informal shows, hoping to make friends and attract fellow artsy weirdos. They make an effort to greet everyone (especially newcomers) attending one of their concerts, comedy shows, plays, visual art exhibits, movies or karaoke nights — or whatever else they and their ever-widening circle of friends come up with.
From left: Zac Caffrey, Michael Sadler and Travis Caffrey at The Mouthhole, 7/27/2024
Zac never intended to perform live, but his friends and the welcoming environment coaxed him to the stage. Sadler and the Caffreys are proud to note that bands have played their first show at The Mouthhole and gone on to bigger rooms. The space has also hosted the trio’s collective favorite musician, country-leaning experimental songsmith Johnny Dowd — a show Travis describes as a “spiritual moment.”
In a setting like this, some chaos is inevitable. Having a single bathroom has led to some plumbing mishaps. There have been two minor thefts of note: Zac’s ape mask vanished but reappeared with an apology letter, while a metal goat lawn ornament is still missing. (Those who dwell in The Mouthhole still hope the perpetrator will bring it back.)
By and large, the intimate atmosphere fosters comradery and respect for the space. In 11 years of rowdy shows, they’ve come close to kicking out a guest “maybe once,” but so far still haven’t had to. Despite a few suspicious glances from maintenance staff, they’ve never discussed their artistic endeavors with their landlord. Should that conversation arise, they have an honest answer: They’re just throwing huge house parties. This explanation placated a performing rights organization that once demanded payment for songs played between sets.
Caroline Red at The Mouthhole, 7/27/2024
“I tried to explain to several people, ‘This is the basement of my house, and no money is exchanging hands, and there’s really no reason for you to have any concern,’” Sadler recalls. “I think they finally got the picture.”
The group is well aware of the risks of hosting house shows, including getting evicted. In the early days of The Mouthhole, they published their address, but stopped after a 2016 fire at Oakland, Calif., DIY artist collective Ghost Ship tragically killed 36 people, prompting a nationwide crackdown by local governments on vital community arts spaces. The Mouthhole also put shows on pause for about six months after the Ghost Ship fire, but cautiously ramped them up again; COVID lockdown forced another hiatus.
Ziona Riley at The Mouthhole, 7/27/2024
Around 1:30 a.m. on Saturday, it was time for the traditional post-Fest(er) karaoke. Sadler gave a kind of benediction: “The Mouthhole sometimes closes, but it always reopens.”
Sleek, high-fidelity listening rooms that can accommodate several hundred people play a role in our city’s musical ecosystem. But just as much, or even more, it needs places that foster a nonjudgmental creative atmosphere — true Petri dishes for art and community. Recent studies back up what people in and around Nashville music have said for years: The way the city has grown has made it harder for independent venues of any kind to stay afloat. The Mouthhole keeps coming back, and that’s a blessing for Nashville.
