DIY to Digital: Kelsey Kaufmann’s Cactus Club

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Photo by Sam Reitman

Kelsey Kaufmann with ReachOut Radio coordinator Billy Dimmitt

As of February, Kelsey Kaufmann has taken over as the owner of Bay View music institution Cactus Club (2496 S. Wentworth Ave.) In that time, she’s endured not only starting a new holding company, but the realities facing live music venues during the uncertainty of a pandemic. We talked about her history of DIY concert booking, and how that foundation helped shape her for the current state of Cactus Club.

First off, let’s go back. How did you get started booking shows?

A couple of my friends started a cool punk rock trio when I was in sixth grade. They played the school talent show, and by seventh grade I was like “I’m gonna be a part of this! We’re doing it” and I begged my parents for drums for some time. I think for Christmas that year I got a starter drum set, and I immediately started my first band. Once you have a band, you have to play shows, and if nobody else is organizing them, you have to organize them. So that was kind of how everything got going, literally in middle school. Our first shows were at the Logemann Community Center, which no longer exists, and Mequon Music, which is a tiny little independently owned music shop that carved out a corner of the store for a small stage. That was kind of my way into it.

How did that eventually transform into Cactus Club? Were you booking shows in between that time?

In high school, I was booking tours for my band, Cougar Den around the Midwest. It became like a second nature. This is how we live, this is how we get things done, by organizing events to get kids together and meet new people, and grow through that. Locally, bands were playing here, and very periodically Cactus Club would host all-ages shows back then. Mad Planet was also doing all-ages shows at that time, and that was kind of my inroad. Eric Uecke or someone had asked Cougar Den to play Cactus Club. I think I was 17 or maybe 18 the first time I played a show here. I continued to book shows outside of booking for my own band, doing stuff at UWM, and renegade art spaces. I was co-running a gallery in Riverwest called Jackpot where the basement functioned as a DIY venue called Eagle’s Nest. Eric invited me to work at Cactus when I was studying abroad in college. That’s how I got looped into Cactus Club.

Do you think booking DIY shows helped you adapt to a more structured setup with the club?

For sure. I still very much identify with the DIY ethos and approach to booking shows. I think that’s one of our strengths for what we do. I’m learning the importance of contracts in certain settings, and why people care about them, but my approach to booking is definitely more relationship-based and music-centered.

When did it become a reality to you that it might be feasible to own Cactus Club?

I don’t know if it felt like a reality even after it happened. It still doesn’t feel like a reality. After Eric took a step back in programming for Cactus, around January 2016, there were more people getting involved that had unique ideas. That’s still aligned with the umbrella of what Cactus Club does. That includes the people being involved working here having a higher stock in the space. I got slam dunked by banks, laughed out of rooms. The whole acquisition process was a nightmare, which I think was true for anyone starting a small business that don’t come from a lot of resources.

Other than the pandemic, what was the biggest reality check of owning a business?

I think I didn’t necessarily have enough time to know. It still feels surreal to own a business and be in the mix in this capacity. I think in a few years, everyone is going to look back at what we did right now and be proud. We really are pushing ourselves, thanks to the frenzied dance of a lot of committed people.

I think that speaks to Cactus Club as a whole. How does this group of committed people come together?

That’s something I think about more often than you’d think. I feel really fortunate that my involvement in DIY organizing for decades helped attract people that have similar or shared interests. I think Cactus Club has been sort of an anchor institution in the music scene for a long time. It’s special in how these groups of people got together. You can look at lots of music scenes and how it all centered around one venue and a group of people that started passion projects. I’m not sure what to attribute it to here. Showing up is the hardest part. When people show up and it feels good, they keep showing up. This type of inclusive, creative space is something that some of us absolutely need.

You’re doing a lot more digitally now. At what point did you determine more had to be done in that realm from the club?

The first couple of months of the pandemic was me, panicked, trying to hustle merchandise and figure out how we’d restructure the business. It was in May that Clayton "Max" Segovia, who had worked at Cactus and now lives in Chicago, called and was like “Hideout is doing this, Empty Bottle is doing this, what are you doing?!” I asked for his help, because he has extraordinary taste and we work super well together. He’s phenomenal, and he took the reins on the Saturday night performance component of what we’re doing. We share a desire to uplift emerging artists who want to experiment. Billy Dimmitt has been big with ReachOut Radio on Friday nights. It’s very much been his vision and style, and it’s something we partnered on to get it up and running. Natasha Woods has taken the helm for the film programming. It’s definitely a beautiful group of people who are specializing in certain things, but we’re all in constant communication. I’m excited for pushing a club conversation series in fall, with more workshop-style content. I think it all resonates with me in a really special way. 

Your booking has always been very inclusive of different groups of people. How does that fit into your vision of Cactus Club?

That’s the spine of what we’re doing. We’re day in and day out desiring to be a welcoming space of refuge and catharsis. We’re specifically looking at things like queer community, like where do we get to go to hang out and feel good? Where do kids that listen to harder rap go to feel good? We’re trying to be inviting to everyone, but specifically to people that feel like they don’t have spaces. There’s a youthful prioritizing, but I also want this to be somewhere you can bring your uncle or your grandmother if you want. There’s an intergenerational tie that needs to be made, because that’s how we learn. Yes, we’re a music venue, but in tandem we function as a community space.

Let’s imagine a world post-COVID. Does the digital programming continue?

I hope so. It’s hard to say We’re trying to do four days a week right now. I do hope we use this as a launching point. I also hope that this ends up being a time for people to experiment with programming that they wouldn’t necessarily gravitate towards in a busier time in their lives. If you’re creating good stuff, people will continue to want that. Right now we’re looking at time in two-month chunks, and that feels like it’s least overwhelming.

Live music is hurting from the pandemic disproportionally. How can people get involved with NIVA or support live music?

Get involved through the Save Our Stages campaign. Right on the homepage of our website, we have a link to the Change.org petition, asking Governor Evers for a state live entertainment grant. Obviously, every industry is hurting for money right now, but entertainment venues were the first to close and will be the last to reopen. Other states have already made progress and awarded funds to live music venues, and we need to do the same in Wisconsin in order for independent music venues to survive this time. Please take a minute to show your support.