By Liz Forsberg

On the sixth Anniversary of Wavelength it's pretty amazing to see that a lot of hard work in organizing a space for independent musicians and music lovers in Toronto has been rather successful. Week after week, people regularly come out to see shows - favourite bands they've seen before and new bands that they might not otherwise see elsewhere but will do so at Wavelength because of a trusted curatorial hand and a PWYC admission. After six years of weekly shows, a sense of familiarity has been nurtured among musicians and music-lovers and the word community can accurately describe the people that ebb and flow around this event.

Coordinating all this are people who could aptly be described as the music community's 'œsocial workers.'? They organize the people and the shows, publish the '˜zine, write the articles, do the interviews, keep the website up and running, do the doors at the show, introduce the bands etc.... This talented and inspired bunch carves out cultural space motivated by love rather than money. They've created a positive space in which musicians can share their work and music-lovers can discover new sounds. Though my nightly gig reciting nursery rhymes often prevents me from attending Wavelength, knowing that such a space exists where I can hear music for music's sake (and pay what I can afford), sustains me. I don't want to get overly sentimental but I am truly appreciative of all the hard work that goes into the making of this space.

Now that such an engaged community exists, there is a lot of dreamy talk of where we can go next. My own personal dream revolves around a little self-preservation. I see an active group of intelligent, creative and conscientious people with remarkable capabilities to sustain a unique cultural community; I'm not just talking about the organizers here, but the musicians who play, the audiences who listen and the people who post comments up on stillepost.ca. I also see a community of people negatively affected by many issues we face in our city: a lack of bike lanes, poor air quality, increasing rates of asthma, lack of affordable daycare (big one in our family), limited funding for the arts'¦ the list is, unfortunately, endless. But given our collective brains, creativity and chutzpah, why aren't we doing something as a group to begin acting in our own interest? Why do we need to let a bunch of middle-aged suits dominate the political agenda? (okay - accuse me of ageism here, but it's pretty true, especially when looking at the main candidates in the federal election).

I see the existence of our loose community as a golden opportunity to act upon issues that we might usually brush aside as being too big to tackle. I see the potential for shaping the city in which we live. What if we began by asking ourselves what issues are most pressing to us, perhaps a '˜what this city needs' booth at Wavelength where people can list the changes they would like to see in Toronto, and a space on the website for those of us who might not always be able to make it out to shows. As a community, we could connect with groups like the Toronto Environmental Alliance, the Community Bicycle Network or the Toronto Public Space Committee that have expertise in navigating these issues, perhaps even creating some kind of formalized network. We could collaborate on playful, entertaining, educational and challenging interventions that address our visions for Toronto. And what if Wavelength incorporated some of those organizations' voices into its weekly series as a means of educating ourselves about how to create and advocate for a more liveable city? I have visions here of educational interventions in-between bands, almost cabaret-style.

To get down, dirty and practical I'm going to throw out another idea to get us started. I think that we at Wavelength should do a little touring of the city's parking spots this summer, taking (okay, stealing) inspiration from the fine folks from the Rebar art collective in San Francisco. I propose that Wavelength go acoustic and park itself in a parking spot or two, or as many as it takes, roll out some grass, throw down some lounge chairs and some plants and have the audience and passers-by buy time on the meter, reclaiming space usually reserved for car culture and temporarily re-designating it for music culture. Perhaps some of the fine folks at TEA, CBN or TPSC could speak in-between sets, or better yet, orate to a musical soundtrack.

A little bit of cheek and a little bit of playfulness go a long way in getting people to re-think how we go about living our day to day lives in the city. I think that, as a community, we have ample cheek and play to share and plenty of vision to communicate.