Correction Appended

For a moment, on the first night he worked the door at the Velvet Lounge, Andrew Bucket thought he was staring death in the face. Her name was Allison Wolfe.

"I was excited to meet her, let alone work the show at all," he says of the Partyline singer, who helped found the riot-grrrl movement in the early ’90s as a member of Bratmobile. "At that point in time, it was 2007, the Lounge was under different management, and they were doing door polling"—a fairly common practice by which venues ask patrons what act they’ve come to see and sometimes use that data to determine payouts at the end of the night. "Allison saw me making the sheet and flipped out."

"Fuck that," she told him. "All the bands are getting paid tonight or we are not doing this." And so at the end of the night, Partyline, which had assembled the show, took the evening’s percentage and distributed it evenly among the three bands.

The Velvet Lounge no longer polls at shows, and Bucket, now the club’s booker, is a passionate opponent of the practice. "It connotes a disinterest in the band," he says. "It really just assumes that the bands don’t know each other, that they’re not willing to cooperate. It puts this competitive edge to the whole thing. It’s bogus."

Local bands have few options these days: DIY spaces like 611 Florida, Kansas House, and DC Mini Gallery have shuttered; the Black Cat books many more touring acts than local ones. That leaves the Velvet Lounge, Comet Ping Pong, and the three spaces in D.C. that poll at the door: DC9, the Red and the Black, and Rock & Roll Hotel.

"We are absolutely not looking to fuck the bands out of the money—if they are pulling in the numbers," says Steve Lambert, who books and partially owns those three venues. "That doesn’t work for anybody."

He says his venues use door polling mostly for his records—so that the next time he’s considering placing a band on a bill, he’ll have an idea of how many people they can draw. He says he mostly polls shows with only local and small-scale touring bands—if a band is on the road, he’ll usually throw it some extra money. Sometimes, he’ll hand bands their percentage—in the case of his venues, 80 percent of the door after an overhead cost is met—at the end of the night and let them divide it themselves. But in other cases, he feels that paying bands based on their draw incentivizes marketing. "I do not believe people should be paid on who they are," he says. "Thievery Corporation gets paid a lot of money because they can draw 5,000 people."

"I’ve always used this system in different markets. It’s a practice that’s done throughout the country," says Lambert, who used to book small- and medium-sized venues in Lansing, Mich. "There are people who aren’t fans of it, but people who aren’t fans of it are people who don’t draw."

Last week, an Arts Desk post by the D.C. rapper Head-Roc titled "Venues ‘Polling’ Practice Is Some Bullshit" attracted 40 comments. "It is a fundamentally flawed system and it doesn’t take into consideration a number of variables," wrote one commenter. "Polling is the fairest way to tell who has the bigger fan base," wrote another.

Dante Ferrando, who owns the Black Cat and drummed in the post-hardcore band Gray Matter in the ’80s and early ’90s, doesn’t like polling. "If you put a band on a bill, if they didn’t draw, they still played, they still came to the club. It’s usually the out-of-town band," he says. "To me, the whole process makes it a little more of a club vs. the band kind of feel."

Opponents of door polling offer several arguments: First, it encourages bands to compete when they should be working together to promote a show; as a result, a music scene’s sense of  community suffers. Second, while venues and bands should share the responsibility of marketing, ultimately, whoever curated the show—the booker—owns its success ("If we don’t get a good turnout, that’s on me," Bucket says). Last, polling isn’t necessarily accurate. For one, patrons may be there to see several bands, or none in particular, or the person on the door might get things wrong. "The door guy’s got a lot to do, and it’s hard to do it fair," Ferrando says.

But Lambert says that venues are doing their jobs by providing space and marketing acts through their Web sites, in advertisements, and through social media. "So we should take the loss for them not drawing?" he says. "Most of the time we recoup the loss [of promoting and running a show], and most of the time the bands get paid."

By Mike Stuto’s estimation, the practice emerged in New York in the early ’90s in smaller rock clubs, and eventually spaces that booked small and medium-sized national acts, like the Mercury Lounge, followed suit. His East Village club, Brownies, which he converted into a bar in 2002, sometimes used door polling, usually for bills of bands whose members didn’t know one another. "We started doing it because bands were demanding it," he says. By basing the system on empirical data, he says, he avoided disputes over who deserved the most money. He says the polls generally struck him as fair; when bands took issue with their accuracy, they were usually "grasping at straws."

Jaxx Nightclub in Springfield, Va., doesn’t door-poll, but it does ask the area bands that play its Localpalooza showcases about six times a year—mostly metal bands whose members are between about 16 and 20 years old—to sell their own tickets. Owner Jay Nedry then pays bands based on how many tickets they’ve sold. He says it’s instructive to them, even if it can be demoralizing. "It’s a good kick in the ass," he says. "It makes people understand it isn’t free."

While Lambert says "no one has ever bitched about it from a band," some local groups say they’re uncomfortable with polling. "For a band starting out, it can kind of suck," says
Dan Scheuerman of Deleted Scenes, "It’s kind of degrading, I guess." Because "it’s already so hard to make a dime as a musician," says Rob Pierangeli of Casper Bangs, "maybe you shouldn’t scrutinize over who gets paid how much."

J. Sequential of Screen Vinyl Image says bands that dislike polling should simply avoid venues that do it; his band usually contacts groups with which it’s playing beforehand and agrees to split the pot. Because three D.C. venues poll, "I think what happens is a natural divide is created in the city," he writes in an e-mail. "There are bands who are looking to get the bigger shows and get paid more and get more exposure, and I believe they will run with the other bands who are after the same thing. But there are bands who just don’t want to deal with that type of noise and just want to play shows and hook their friends up who are on tour and at least get them some gas money without having to clear $250 at the door."

Aaron Estes, who sings and plays guitar in Bellman Barker, takes the opposite view. "Most bands at the polling level (including mine) aren’t really making any money anyway, so I don’t really care," he writes in an e-mail. "The money from a show might help pay some tolls or cover gas, but it’s never going to cover the expense of missing work until you’re playing bigger venues to a bigger fan base, and at that point, no one is going to be polling the door."

Correction | Feb. 17, 2010: Due to an editing error by Managing Editor Andrew Beaujon, the article incorrectly stated that the Black Cat books many more touring acts than local ones. According to the club’s booker, Vicki Savoula, between 50 and 60 percent of bands that play the Black Cat are local.

Partyline (2005-present): Fascination with the riot grrrl movement burned brightly and briefly, but the members of Bratmobile—which formed in 1991—kept making music, on and off, until 2002. Sort-of based in D.C., Partyline isn't the first other project for singer Allison Wolfe, but it's had the most staying power. The band's name sort of reminds me of that chirpy Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie where they share a phone line, but Partyline's music—snotty, high-adrenaline, feminist—quickly corrects that association. The trio plays at the Velvet Lounge tomorrow night at 9 p.m. with Edie Sedgwick and Noisy Pig. Tickets are $8.

More riot grrrl second acts after the jump: flowcharts, riots in MTV studios, and Christina Aguilera!

Julie Ruin (1998): When Bikini Kill split up in 1998, singer Kathleen Hanna recorded a one-off album under the sobriquet Julie Ruin. Sonically, it's a bridge between Bikini Kill and Hanna's later electroclash outfit Le Tigre. The lyrics, too, are of the same smart, anarcho-feminist mold, but they also irreverently take measure of riot grrrl itself. Take "Aerobicide," whose spoofy video plays with the cop-show aesthetic of Beastie Boys's "Sabotage" promo, and contains mustachioed suits strategizing how to sell riot grrrl. Best shot? A flowchart in which all arrows point to "dance party."

Sleater-Kinney (1994-2006): This jagged Olympia, Wash.-based band emerged from Heavens to Betsy and Excuse 17, and took the riot grrrl ethos to its largest audience yet. The best testament to the trio's success? None of the Sleater-Kinney fans I know have the same favorite album. Also, member Carrie Brownstein's Moniter Mix blog is one of the Web's best blends of hard thinking and excellent taste.

Comet Gain (1993-present): The members of the U.K. band Huggy Bear all joined other groups, none better than Comet Gain. This jangly outfit featuring bassist Jon Slade—one of the few males to play in a riot grrrl band—formed around the time Huggy Bear started a minor riot in an MTV studio, thus earning canonization by British rockists. Production assistants have rested easy since: Comet Gain's vibe is decidedly calmer.

Le Tigre: (1998-present): Kathleen Hanna's second second act. Originally conceived as the back-up band for Julie Ruin, Le Tigre pumped out three loud, rude, and synthy releases beginning in 1999, and is still making music in 2009—with Christina Aguilera. Don't get snooty: A decade after the fact, Le Tigre's "Deceptacon" remains the best part of any dance party where people have the chutzpah to play it.

1. Girls Rock! DC!

As Sleater-Kinney ax-woman Carrie Brownstein so succinctly put it in her foreword to the recently published Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls book, “Everything at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls takes place in a single week. For anyone out there who’s ever tried to write a song, start and finish a painting, or make a film, you know one week is nothing. One week is the time it takes for an adult to think about what we have to do: prepare and procrastinate, produce a draft, doubt we are capable, fail, and start again. But one week is all it takes for young girls, some of whom have never strummed a guitar chord in their life, held drum sticks in their hands, or stepped foot on a stage, to come together with complete strangers, form a band, and write a song that will blow your mind...and to be surprised, to truly be caught off guard, by something so unselfconscious, is to realize that a lot of what we believe to be bold is really quite tame. Bold is not a wanky guitar solo at Madison Square Garden that lasts five minutes while hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of lights and pyrotechnics tell an audience when to applaud. Nor is bold a bassist jumping from the top of a kick drum and doing a scissor kick in the air at the end of a song. Bold is learning how to play the drums on Monday and performing in front of five hundred people on Saturday. Bold is screaming into the microphone, or merely talking into one, when you didn’t even know you could. Bold makes the hair stand up on the listeners’ necks, gives them a lump in the back of their throat, makes them happy to be alive.”

Right on! So there was some talk post-Ladyfest (DC) to do a girl rock camp as a follow-up, but these fine ladies really blew it outta the water. With the first meeting in October of ’07, the labor of this musically-minded female collective culminated in a well-oiled machine of a camp in August ’08 that changed the lives of young 8- to 18-year-old girls in swamp town. As part of the worldwide Girls Rock Camp Alliance, Girls Rock! DC consisted of up to 20 core organizers, 50 volunteers, 48 campers, 8 newly formed bands, and 2 DJs. I know for a fact it ain’t easy being a girl in this city, but a girl like me’s gotta get psyched about a final GR! DC showcase that boasted 600 people in attendance, not to mention Eddie Vedder! Next stop, Madison Square Garden? (“Where is your next show? In Honolulu! Where is your next show…”)
Get psyched: girlsrockdc.org

2. Hear Mount Pleasant!
Yay to Hear Mount Pleasant for fighting the insanity of the Mount Pleasant Neighborhood Alliance in my ‘hood. Mt. Pleasant used to be so fun, interesting, REAL, and culturally vibrant ‘til rich people took over with their uber-entitled “quality of life” demands and crushed its spirit like a bug. I know we all play a role in gentrification, but I tried fighting the power for years, but just couldn’t take the straight-up hatred and steamrollering anymore. Mass thanks to the more diplomatic mouths of HMP for organizing to try to bring back something culturally/artistically cool in our neighborhood, to promote more constructive conflict resolution, and to expose the few wealthy homeowners’ agenda, which privately controls our business strip and absurdly gets cemented into law. I love Don Juan! I love Haydee’s! Gimme back my neighborhood!
Get real: hearmountpleasant.org

3. Transformer!
Not sure why, but I get the feeling DC’s also not the easiest place to be for visual artists either. But what do I know? That’s why I like to mosey on down to Transformer when they have exhibitions and programs to get my art on. A beacon of cutting-edge on a block that’s been almost totally Whole Foods-ized, this nonprofit arts organization focuses on supporting emerging, mostly local, artists. Now this sounds pretty DIY and non-alienating to a punky-doodle person like myself. I can dig it. And they’re totally art-world legit with support through grants from the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts.  Transformer got founded about seven years ago by two true local heroines of the arts: Victoria Reis, current executive and artistic director, and Jayme McLellan, who remains on Transformer’s advisory council but is now director of Civilian Art Projects. Which leads me to my next big-ups item…
Get art: transformergallery.org

4. Civilian Art Projects!
Hey, I wasn’t able to reach director Jayme McLellan by press time, but trust me, she’s totally cool. Situated down near the Mall (sorry, I can’t say “Penn Quarter”–makes me gag), Civilian kicked off in 2006, breathing very interesting and engaging new art life into the DC scene through up-and-coming artist events, programs and exhibitions.
Get (sm)art: civilianartprojects.com

5.  Halloween on Lamont Street!
Alright, I know I shouldn’t be publicizing this in the paper, ‘cause ever since DC’s main daily paper let the cat outta the bag a few years ago, our street gets totally trampled by scary little munchkins every Halloween while we go broke enabling their sugar highs. But oh how adorable are these little candy-grubbing mess-makers. I’ll even make an exception for that one bold little Spider-Man who wiped out our candy bowl too early in the eve (that crap’s expensive!) in five fell swoops while glaring coldly into my eyes, as his daddy unapologetically looked on. What the hell? Anyways, first organized years ago by the coolest lady on the block, Athena Viscusi, and others, our Halloween block party is most specialest ‘cause it’s closed off to traffic, there’s age-differentiated costume contests, and the whole thing gets broadcast live on the radio. It’s downright neighborly.
Get out:  1700 block of Lamont St., NW, at dark on 10/31, duh.

Allison Wolfe was in the bands Bratmobile and Partyline, among others.  She is also the co-founder of Ladyfest.

All contributors to this series were guests on DISSONANCE, a DC punk oral histories show on Radio CPR. Allison Wolfe's interview can be heard here.