This month, I’m going to write about things I don’t know about, and never will firsthand. Through my conversations with musicians and fans in the area, I hear a lot about these places, events, or bands I’ll never get to experience myself, but I wish I had. Please share your own memories about these people, places and things with me to possibly have them shared in a future article. Also, if you feel there was something significant I missed (I know: REO Speedwagon!), let me know that as well.
I wish I hung out at Mike N Molly’s
From the bits and pieces I’ve gathered through friends and locals, Mike N Molly’s, affectionately known as MnMs, seemed like the sort of place that epitomized the heart and soul of Champaign-Urbana’s nightlife. Opening its doors in 1998, it quickly became a cornerstone for those seeking a vibrant cultural hub, where the beer flowed as freely as the conversations. The stories I’ve heard paint it as a haven for live music enthusiasts, service-industry workers, and interesting characters alike, fostering a unique community spirit under the watchful eye of its owner, Mike “Murph” Murphy. The anecdotes about its beer garden alone — revered as one of the town’s finest spots for a night under the stars — make me wish I could have experienced MnMs in its heyday. I’ve heard stories about Pi Omega Omega members’ hilarious antics here and crazy nights had by local musicians that spontaneously arose after a night at MnMs, adding to the lore of a place that was more than just a bar; it was a cultural institution. I feel like I missed out on a quintessential chapter of C-U’s social tapestry, one filled with laughter, music, and the kind of memories that last a lifetime.
Closest Place to Mike N Molly’s Today: Rose Bowl Tavern.
I wish I had seen all the great local bands cut their teeth at Mabel’s
Back in the day, I knew about Mabel’s while I lived in Bloomington, but my busy life as a college student with three jobs kept me from making the 45 minute drive down I-74, so I never got to experience it in person. From the people I’ve spoken to, and what I’ve read, Mabel’s seemed like a mythical place where the spirit of live music in Champaign was not just alive but electric. Situated at 613 Green Street, where Brother’s Bar & Grill used to be, Mabel’s was a beacon for music lovers, a stage where both burgeoning local talent and international artists converged, making it a legendary venue in the truest sense. The echoes of its final concert, featuring Stabbing Westward on September 11th, 1998, still resonate with those lucky enough to have been there. Some 25 years later, fans and employees of the place still share photos and stories on this Facebook page. Reading through the old monthly show lineups, I see a plethora of local bands that cut their teeth there (HUM, Didjits, Captain Rat and the Blind Rivets, and many more) as well as many national and international touring bands that left behind stories that have become folklore. The allure of Mabel’s is not just in the bands that played there, but in the community it built, a testament to the shared experiences and unforgettable nights that continue to inspire longing in those of us who never got to pass through its doors.
Closest Thing to Mabel’s today: The Space.
I wish I saw indie bands on the way up at The Highdive
Through a few reminiscent conversations with folks about town and my own research, The Highdive in Downtown Champaign seems to emerge as one of the legendary venues, a touchstone of the C-U music and cultural scene that I deeply regret never experiencing firsthand. For nearly two decades, it was the heart of live music enthusiasts, hosting an astonishing roster of artists — Arcade Fire, K.Flay, The Black Keys, The White Stripes, and many more — that are today’s titans of the indie and alternative worlds. To think that the very air of The Highdive once vibrated with the early sounds of these now monumental bands fills me with a bittersweet longing. Closing its doors in December 2015, after a storied 16 years, before swiftly transitioning into The Accord, The High Dive’s spirit remains undiminished in the memories of those who were there, celebrating its indelible mark on the local music narrative. Read all of the memories former patrons shared about that place, and you’ll wish you were there as well. The tales of The Highdive underscore a closing chapter of a venue that was much more than a stage — it was a crucible of emerging talent and unforgettable nights. The legacy of The Highdive, preserved in stories and echoes of chords long faded, continues to inspire a yearning for days I wish I could have witnessed.
Closest Thing to Highdive Today: The Canopy Club.
I wish I got to see HUM perform live
I was well aware of HUM, having lived in Central Illinois as they ascended the alternative charts, but I never had the opportunity to see the band perform. HUM stitched a memorable pattern with their unique blend of sounds that captured the essence of the ’90s alternative rock and space rock, making their mark with an influence that felt as vast as the universe their music often alluded to. Their style, inspired by the grunge movement with echoes of Seattle’s raw emotionality, found a distinctive voice in Matt Talbott‘s compelling vocals, drawing comparisons to other iconic rock music singers of the decade. Interestingly, before HUM’s ascent, I had the unique opportunity to occasionally share the stage with Bryan St. Pere, their original drummer, in a cover band called Heads or Tails at Illinois State University during 1987 and 1988. This ironic twist of fate only deepens my connection to the band, making the stories of their journey and the profound sadness at St. Pere’s passing in 2021 resonate even more personally. Despite never experiencing HUM’s local performances firsthand, the tales of their impactful shows and the shared memories of playing alongside St. Pere create a deep sense of nostalgia and admiration for a band that once called Champaign home.
I wish I could have experienced the dynamic at the first Farm Aid
Hearing tales from those who were there and reading about the inaugural Farm Aid concert back in 1985 at Memorial Stadium has always sparked a bit of envy in me. Farm Aid was this legendary gathering of giants from every corner of the music world, drawn together by a shared cause. Talk about the unlikely blend of rock, country, and folk icons — Dylan, Nelson, Young, Mellencamp, Rogers — sharing the same stage, creating a mosaic of sound for a cause close to their hearts. From Sammy Hagar’s spontaneous decision to join what was predominantly a country lineup, insisting “It’s America. I wanna do it,” to the eclectic mix that had Lou Reed and John Denver in the same lineup, it sounded like a celebration of music’s unifying power. It sounds like it wasn’t just a festival; it was a moment of solidarity, a testament to the power of music to bring about change. I can’t help but wish I’d been there, amidst the energy, the camaraderie, and the music that defined an era and a movement.
