Photo by Ashly Higgins.

Did you read Consequence of Sound’s excellent oral history of D.C.’s famed 9:30 Club? No? Well, here it is, so give it a good read. It’s the best oral history of the venue since The Post’s oral history from, uh, four years ago.

Consequence of Sound’s recent article—along with Sriram Gopal’s preview of The Faint show at the club tonight—got the DCist staff real nostalgic for the first time we stepped foot in the famous club.

While we enjoy talking about ourselves, we were also curious to hear what other’s first experience at the 9:30 Club was like. The 9:30 Club, after all, has been named one of the best venues in the country by Billboard many times, and it’s considered a part of D.C.’s history by now—with the club’s old F Street location a crucial party of D.C. punk and hardcore. In short, the club means a lot to the concert-attending community of D.C. So, with that in mind, DCist took to social media and asked our readers to send in their memories of their first 9:30 Club experience. Here, along with our staff, is what people shared with us. Let us know your first 9:30 Club experience in the comments!

Photo by Erin M.

“While I grew up in Alexandria, I spent my high school years in Lancaster, Pa. Even though that area is close to Philadelphia and home to a decent venue called the Chameleon Club, some shows necessitated a trip South. So in May 2005 I packed into a car with three other friends for a Bright Eyes/The Faint performance at the 9:30 Club. (An acquaintance who drove separately arrived before we did and, upon seeing the area, immediately turned around). From sitting outside with other fans (where I took some really artistic shots of graffiti) to screaming the lyrics to “Lover I Don’t Have To Love” with other sweaty people, the concert represented the best of the 9:30 Club. It played no small part in my decision to return to D.C.” — Sarah Anne Hughes

“Over the course of high school, I saw many a ska/pop-punk shows at the 9:30 Club, but my first exposure to the legendary club was seeing Steve Winwood with my dad in 2001 or 2002. I remember he played everything from deep Traffic and Spencer Davis Group tracks, to his big singles. The show took me to higher love, to say the least (sorry).” — Matt Cohen

“If you were an adolescent in the late 90s to early aughts, there was a high probability you owned at least one ska-punk CD that you popped into a Aiwa mini stereo in your college dorm. Either that, or your friend down the hall with the CD burner conveniently made you a copy, courtesy of Napster. Before I date myself any further, I recall my first show at the 9:30 Club when I was a sophomore at the University of Maryland; a Less Than Jake headlining show in the fall of 2000.

With likeminded individuals skanking and moshing around the floor of the club, the band put on a energetic, non-stop set that included a dude dressed up as Spider-Man stage diving from the top of the VIP area into the crowd (though I do remember it wasn’t the greatest of landings). And who else remembers the (tube) TVs on each side of the stage that would play music videos between band sets?” — Brett Gellman

“My first show that I can clearly remember was the Dandy Warhols, somewhere around the year 2000. I came with my dorm neighbor who had given me a tape of a bunch of their songs, back when tapes existed. There was a small crowd so we were able to stand a few feet from the stage with nobody bumping us—maybe one of the good things about D.C. in those days: a much smaller concert-going population. I remember it being a good show and they sounded a lot like their records. And, probably like most Dandies fans in that era, I had a crush on Zia the keyboard player. I also ran into my political science professor in the crowd, which made me think old people could also be cool when, in hindsight, he was probably in his early-to-mid-30s. What I remember more than the show, though, was having to find a cab back to Foggy Bottom—it was after midnight so the Metro had already closed. It was a little scary: U Street was much darker and emptier than it is now and when you went to GW in those days, the rest of the city seemed like a far away, mysterious place—not dangerous, per se, just unknown. Eventually we found one and made it back to campus with our ears still ringing.” — Andrew Wiseman

“I might be forgetting an Alex Chilton or Mekons show, but the first 9:30 show I remember going to was Sun Ra in 1989. This was the only time I got to see a healthy Ra, and he led the Arkestra through the crowd and I touched the hem of his garment.” — Pat Padua

“My first time at the 9:30 Club was a Halloween ska extravaganza: The Toasters in 2008. It was a wild night. Forget Skanking Pickle… I saw a skanking hot dog, a skanking Myspace profile, a skanking Britney Spears (circa “Oops I Did It Again”), and it was a true struggle to stay upright with the thick layer of beer caking the floor. It was my first time seeing the legendary band after growing up in the South where ska shows were few and far between. It was certainly a memorable evening and introduction to one of D.C.’s classic show spaces.” — Ariana Stone

Wild Flag at 9:30 Club. Photo by Francis Chung.

“My first show at The 9:30 Club was Reel Big Fish and Zebrahead, which was on November 18, 2000. I had just turned sixteen years old. Zebrahead did not make much of an impression, except I was surprised to see that Josh Burdette was really into them (I would later find out that they were one of his favorite bands).

Reel Big Fish put on an excellent live show, playing mostly from Why Do They Rock So Hard and Turn the Radio Off. The most memorable part of the evening happened midway through the set, when vocalist/guitarist Aaron Barrett noticed a fan who was brandishing the sign, “AARON LET ME PLAY GUITAR I DON’T SUCK.” Aaron let him on the stage, but added that the band would take a break. So everyone walked off, and this dude was by himself.

He started playing the guitar part for “Beer.” It does not sound good without other instruments (no ska sounds good with just a guitar). The crowd started to boo, but the fan kept playing anyway. By the first chorus, the drummer and bass player joined in. Then the horn section came back, followed by Aaron who provided vocal backups. The kid looked elated when he turned his back and saw that he was playing with the full band, so he stage-dived after the song was over.

For their chorus, Reel Big Fish played “Beer” an additional two and a half times. They also played “Suburban Rhythm” in a variety of styles, including death metal. It was rad.” — Alan Zilberman

“My first show at 9:30 Club was in 1999. I had come down to finish my senior year at UMCP and didn’t know anyone aside from a few hardcore kids. I met this cute indie girl from Vancouver who wanted someone to go with her to see some band I’d never heard of. Obviously, I said yes (duh!). 15 years later, I can’t remember the girl’s name or face, but I still listen to Son Volt’s Trace quite often; the album would probably make my desert island list.

I still remember the composed yearning in Farrar’s voice that was absolutely haunting live. The simplistic power in songs like “Windfall” was like nothing I had heard before. Heaviness within negative space. While reminiscent of Springsteen’s Nebraska sound but less stark and emotionally challenging, it was definitely a pivotal point in my music listening as it shifted my mindset into a “less is more” mentality (cue the slowcore phase of my life).” — John Fleury

Photo by Raymond Bryson.

“The year was 2003. The band was Alkaline Trio. The chaperone was my friend’s older brother, who I’m sure was really psyched about taking two 15-year old girls to their first 9:30 Club show. I remember feeling incredibly cool getting my hand stamped to indicate I couldn’t drink, and in awe of my friend who crowd surfed that night. After a near run-in, I also learned about how to stand your ground in a mosh pit, which is valuable.

Alkaline Trio played songs mostly off of From Here to Infirmary and Good Mourning, and they were (and are) great live. The whole experience was enthralling.

Unfortunately other details have been lost to my long-deleted Xanga account, but that show kicked off a loving affection for the 9:30 Club ever since.” — Nicole Dubowitz

“Root Boy Slim circa 1983 (who knows, it was the 80’s) and I played Ron Holloway ‘s sax on stage! Fun times!” — Alison Mrohs

“I *think* my first 9:30 show was Thievery Corporation around 2001 with some friends from the old Common Grounds in Ballston, which has since become Northside Social (and all of those friends have by now moved on to other cities, because that’s just what D.C. folks do in their twenties). The show itself was not memorable, but it’s a good bet we were standing on the steps in the balcony because we were/are short and like easy bar access.” — Lynne Venart

“First and favorite experience at 9:30 Club was seeing Jimmy Eat World and meeting the band outside before the show. It has been my second home ever since. Hell, I was there last night and met Chris Carrabba and the rest of Twin Forks. I have to admit, I like being up front which means getting to shows early. Benefit of that is meeting the bands. There is only one way in and out, the front door, so odds are in your favor to meet the bands if you are there early enough. Also saw them again at the club and got a 20×30 print of a photo of the band autographed. Just wish I could get my DSLR in there one day.” — Brandon Howe

“I grew up in a small town in New Jersey that was at least an hour’s drive from any major music venue, so it was not easy to get to see any bands I wanted to see, especially during the week. Which, of course, sucked, seeing as how I was already a music nerd and it was a time that was pretty vibrant for lots of punk and hardcore and what have you. So, when I got to Washington, D.C. in August of 2004 to start my freshman year at American University, I was really excited to be living in a major city, with access to public transportation. I was especially excited since it was a city with such a rich history of great bands, though at this point I was just beginning to scratch the surface.

Anyway, one of my favorite bands at that time in my life was the great Flogging Molly, who’d just released their third album, and me and my first punk rock friends at AU were really into it. I was also especially excited because opening for them was the street punk band The Briggs, who I thought I was SO COOL for knowing who they were—truth was that I knew one song from a compilation and two more songs that I’d downloaded. I was excited, to say the least. The show day comes, me and my friends took the Metro, and the ride seemed ENDLESS in those days—get on at Tenleytown, transfer at Chinatown, ride up to U Street. We wait in line for the show, finally get in, and out come the Briggs, looking so awesomely punk—newsboy caps (sailor’s hat for the front man), big sideburns, sailor tattoos. They’re absolutely awesome. I jumped into the mosh pit, thrashed around, skanked, danced, etc.

The best part came when I was in the pit—I don’t know who it was, and frankly I don’t care—I caught a dude’s head right in the face. Specifically, the eye socket area. I’d never been in a fight, I had nothing to give me the “tough” reputation that I wanted when I was a teenage jackass. The long and the short of it, this was how I got what I maintain is my first (and only) black eye. It wasn’t a true black eye in the sense of it being all swollen or whatever, but I had a bruise around my eye and it happened in a mosh pit at a punk rock concert and that was all I needed. I felt like I’d been through a punk rock rite of passage, and it happened in the city that would be my home for ten years (and counting).

I’ve been to more shows there than I can count, I’ve even played on the stage of the 9:30 Club and I’ve learned so much about the club’s history and importance to a music scene and city that felt more like home than New Jersey ever did, but I will never forget that first show, and how awesome it felt to be a young punk with his first black eye from a punk show. Flogging Molly were also absolutely killer that night, and I danced like a crazy person with people I barely knew that remain some of my closest friends to this day. My introduction to the 9:30 Club was my introduction to the D.C. that would be home.” — Andrew Yonki

Photo by Kevin Harber.

“As a wide-eyed college freshman, I entered 9:30 club for an evening with State Radio. I was really into anything remotely Dispatch-related at that point; I took my chillax college identity pretty seriously then. I remember being very confused about where in the city I was (especially after we left and started wandering around Shaw). It was magical and chill. Bedouin Soundclash opened for them, and the space was half empty so everyone was grooving to the spiraling lights that hit the crowd. It was magic.” — Kate Stritzinger

“My first 9:30 experience was at the old F Street venue. This would’ve been in early 1994, my senior year of high school and when the second wave of ska was all the rage. The Toasters was the best band of the bunch, despite not having achieved the commercial success that later visited The Mighty Mighty Bosstones and a bevy of lesser groups. Coolie Ranx was The Toasters’ singer back then and the friends I went with struck up a conversation. He invited us back stage. A beer or two might have been shared. There might have also been an herbal jazz cigarette passed around. I was 17 going on 18 and felt like one of the coolest people on Earth.” — Sriram Gopal

“My first 9:30 Club show was in 2000. It was my first concert in a “club,” (i.e. not a stadium, arena, or DAR Constitution Hall). I was 21. My friend and I drove down super early from MoCo and loitered in front of the club until doors opened for Long Beach Dub Allstars. A few band members were hanging out in the alley outside the back exit, and they started chatting us up. There were nice promotional posters hanging around the club, I grabbed one and got it signed. Then the lead singer gave me his Skunk Records jacket off his back.

I remember ZERO from the actual concert, but the experience really set the tone for my “relationship” with the 9:30 Club. Today, it feels like a second home.” — Heather Edmonds

“I was 17 and a new college freshman at AU. It was 2007, if I remember correctly. A small, relatively unknown band called The Killers was playing the club. They didn’t even bother putting up the barrier between the stage and floor for the concert. The club was relatively empty, and I got to walk right up to the stage and rock out to “Mr. Brightside” (this was before the single became big), “Somebody Told Me,” and a bunch of other songs that would be released over the next few years on various albums. It started a love affair with the 9:30 Club. I’ve probably been to at least 50 more shows there since.” — Ruben Musca

“I attended my first show at the 9:30 Club in 2005, almost two years before I even moved to D.C. While conversing with a friend of mine who was a junior at George Mason, he revealed that he had never seen a show at the 9:30 Club. Even though I lived in North Carolina at the time (and had lived there since 2002), I found this unacceptable. The two of us immediately started combing the concert calendar for shows that a) weren’t sold out and b) he’d actually enjoy. He had never actually heard of The Black Keys at that time, but I had spent the past year with Rubber Factory in heavy rotation so not only was I able to easily convince my friend that this would be a worthwhile show, but I decided to make the drive up and go to the show as well. My friend and I parked ourselves on the balcony (which, I thought, was shockingly close to the stage) and watched as Dan Auerbach threw his guitar around the stage and Patrick Carney beat the everloving tar out of his drum kit. The electricity in the room was remarkably intense and that show also provided something I had never seen before or since…a third encore. I’ve since seen the Black Keys at least three other times (including another show at the 9:30 Club three years later) and nothing has matched the energy of that first show.” — Valerie Paschall