Gettin' The Beat In 004 Time

Phil Miller solos on his Tenor Sax in the foreground.
Wanda Day drives the music from her drum kit in back.

004 grew fast -- and everybody in the band had to grow too. At first I liked seeing people make an entity bigger than themselves, since I'd had the same experience in the previous decade, but I wasn't so happy to be reminded of what a burden that same creation could be to the individuals who comprised it. (You won't read any gossip here, so forget looking for it!)
If they would have been able to perform concerts in venues large enough to accommodate everyone who wanted to see them, things might have gone better -- BUT ...


Scott Simons & Wanda Day at the Hole In The Wall Saloon

Doug Edwards took command of outdoors audiences too.

Teri Mitchell --Outdoors in concert at the University of Utah

The Salt Lake music scene was financially fragile at the best of times -- mostly relying on sales of alcohol, which meant that 004's younger fans couldn't see most of their gigs, and that the places they played were limited in number by Utah's aforementioned stupid suppressive laws, and tended to be small rather than large.
The Hole In The Wall tried to reverse that trend by expanding throughout the ground floor of the Hotel Plandome. Other bands played when 004 couldn't, or brought their own crowds with them -- one of the best was Irie Heights. They played Reggae cover tunes, but were led by a charismatic singer named Pam Pfister who had the knack of making EVERYBODY dance.

When my friend David Fagiolli convinced Tom to bring his ultra-Punk group The Atheists to the Hole In The Wall, the former Underground scene came full circle. The old Camelot Lounge was the center of what was progressive in Salt Lake again, and I even saw old patrons like Michael G. Cavanaugh in the place. One thing never changed, however -- they had the tiniest restrooms in town, located up a narrow stairway that backed up fast when the beer was flowing. The women had it worse -- their facilities were even more cramped than the men's room, and gentlemen like myself had to 'stand guard' when we let ladies in to alieviate the traffic. We wanted our dancing partners on the floor -- not standing and waiting on the damn stairs!
004 starred at the Utah Arts Festival two years in a row, validating their community-wide appeal. They opened for one of their favorite bands, The Blasters from Los Angeles, with the great New Orleans saxophonist Lee Allen. They also rocked the University of Utah -- warming up for the cold, reclusive, alienated, and alienating Bow Wow Wow from England.
Reaganomics made a bad economy worse as the 80's
lurched forward. Tom Bullen had to turn the Hole In The Wall over to new owners for financial reasons, and the place began an immediate, perceptible decline without his good-hearted leadership. No more phenomena like Air Pocket or 004 brought the glow of potential star power with them. The Zephyr Club, a few blocks away, booked national acts like the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Jack Mack and the Heart Attack, and even Robert Cray -- outcompeting places with small budgets. (They closed after the turn of the 21st century, though.)
004's last show was at the Utah State Fairgrounds, outdoors on a lovely summer evening, on a portable stage
for a small crowd of about 200 dancing fools. I found out it was the last show when Doug started handing out individual 8x10 photos from a portfolio I had given him at dinner earlier. Everybody said they had plans for the future, but Elaine was in tears.

Exuberant Daze & Nites
Exceptionally Yours
Hole In The Wall Pt. 4
All graphics and drawings by Michael R. Evans -- from photos shot in the 1980's