The Bottom of the Hill is one of those venues where amazing things can happen. Its intimate space creates a setting where bands, their friends, and patrons can all rub elbows without the pretense of Rock Stardom bogging down a conversation. Many a band right on the verge of blowing up have graced the stage fully aware of their sparkling future and have played to it, creating an “I was there” situation where one constantly reminds his or her friends (or just about anyone who happens to be around) of the night they saw so-and-so play Bottom of the Hill. I’ve been known to drop an “I was there” once or twice myself (cough Arcade Fire cough).
