The Bay Area music scene is as alive as it’s ever been, notes Andy Pohl. “But at the same time, there is no money to be made at all.” This isn’t a revelation to anyone who’s paid attention to the local cultural landscape over the past 25 years. The cost of living is high, corporate interests constantly look for innovative ways to consolidate an even bigger piece of the pie and the advent of streaming services has decimated media sales. But this isn’t a story about the grim state of affairs, either.
Despite the mounting odds against creatives living here, the Bay Area remains a persistent hub for new music, lively concerts and a cultural attitude of supporting the local scene. This is in part thanks to the determination of people who believe in the necessity of the independent and the underground. People like Pohl, the founder and one-man force behind Sell The Heart Records, a small label in El Cerrito that seeks creative partnerships with local bands and is about to celebrate its 15th anniversary.
Born in the Richmond area, Pohl moved to a small town in the Sierra Nevadas while in the third grade. He describes the area as “jam band country” and says there was a disconnect between his environment and any sort of DIY music scene. That’s until high school when a local skate shop started throwing punk shows and bringing in bands from around the state. Nestled in the Gold Country foothills, Pohl was able to see live performances by MXPX, Citizen Fish and the Voodoo Glow Skulls. Perhaps because this sort of event was a bit of a rarity where he lived, he grew to value the power of live, fringe music immensely.
Fast forward to 2010, and Pohl now lives in the North Bay. He’s been in a couple of bands and is now even more steeped in the DIY scene than he was in his days in the mountains.
“I realized there were all these really great bands in my area,” Pohl says, “and no one was documenting it.”
He decided to start a record label and call it Sell The Heart Records. A few friends joined the endeavor at first, but within the first year they ended up moving on to other things, leaving Pohl solely responsible for keeping the lights on and the records spinning.
His first release was his own band, called the Snipers. The first artist he signed went by the name of Good Riddler. He made partnerships with acts not based on economic viability—though he planned to at least break even on every release—but rather on whether the music excited him and whether he felt Sell The Heart would make for a supportive partner in the act’s endeavors.
Some years into the label Pohl moved to the East Bay, which was a bit of a rinse-and-repeat. He worked with bands like Middle-Aged Queers and Unconditional Arms. He put out a Fugazi tribute record that did surprisingly well. Pohl explains that none of this has ever been motivated by money.
“There’s something to be said about the joy you get from the act of doing it,” Pohl says. “I like doing this. Simple as that.” He does his best to cover operating costs and support the bands he works with, but 15 years later, Sell The Heart continues to operate out of his love for the game.
Pohl admits that it can be somewhat thankless work, especially here. “The idea of continuing to make music in the Bay Area is, itself, challenging,” he says. But he has no plans to close down any time soon. In fact, Sell The Heart will celebrate its 15-year anniversary on Aug. 1-2 at 924 Gilman, another DIY institution. Headliners for the shows are Death By Stereo and Tsunami Bomb, and each night will feature supporting performances by bands signed to Sell The Heart.
As famous as the Bay Area is for its hostile cost of living, it’s equally well known for its resilience and determination. Artists continue to stubbornly create, musicians stubbornly play and folks like Pohl keep stubbornly trying to open lanes for folks to make their voices heard. Despite the sometimes grim reality of late-stage capitalism, this is worth celebrating. Even if it wasn’t, Pohl would probably keep putting out records.
