Could Sub Pop save Seattle's nightlife?

Now that Sub Pop's flag-raising, nostalgia-tripping, 20th-anniversary celebration is over, let's revisit a very important truth: If Seattle government's current attitude toward nightlife existed 20 years ago, Sub Pop would never have happened.

There was an unplanned punk-rock moment at last week's "Oral History Live" event at Experience Music Project that had nothing to do with the night's interviewees, Sub Pop founders Bruce Pavitt and Jonathan Poneman. It came directly after Mayor Greg Nickels officially proclaimed July 11-14 "Sub Pop's Utterly Lost Weekend." In the post-huzzah lull, someone in the crowd yelled out, "Now stop the war on nightlife!"

Nickels had been damnably eloquent in his presentation, pandering to the locals with sarcasm, giving all the requisite lip service to the label, proudly equating its offbeat business strategy to multibillion-dollar megaliths Starbucks, Boeing and Microsoft. You wouldn't have known this is the man who, directly and through selective inaction, is silencing the musical heart of the city.

It's happening: Where there were once positive relationships between police and local concert venues, now venues operate in fear of noise and capacity violations and the fines they bring. Venue employees are called upon to enforce infantile state liquor laws, such as the one that bars adult performers from drinking alcohol while performing, by city cops patrolling clubs. Noise violations occur where none have occurred before, shutting down long-standing music nights. Consensus among the industry: It's more difficult to live in Seattle as a musician, promoter or club owner than just a few years ago. And nightlife is suffering.

The interjection at EMP — the pin in the birthday balloon, as it were — came from Kerri Harrop, former head of Sub Pop's International Product Management and Artist Relations. It went unrecognized by the mayor, and apparently by Poneman and Pavitt as well. That's a shame, for if two people ought to realize that the city's continued strangling of nightlife could mean there will never be another Sub Pop phenomenon, it's Poneman and Pavitt.

Last winter, after the Crocodile closed, a rumor floated that Poneman was buying the venue to operate under the Sub Pop banner. Didn't happen. But imagine if one of the city's most beloved business interests jumped into the nightlife fray.

Admittedly, it's no small step. Running a venue demands a serious investment of time, money and manpower. But the city of Seattle is home to more than enough proven industry professionals to make it work. Saddle Creek Records, indie-label home to Bright Eyes, Cursive and Two Gallants, made it work in Omaha, Neb.; the Slowdown all-ages mixed-use venue has reinvigorated the Near North Side neighborhood since it opened, with city assistance, last year.

Short of taking over the Croc, there are other ways Sub Pop can influence city policy. Take an interest. Look back at what happened when the creative community rallied around the Teen Dance Ordinance. An archaic law was taken off the books. Everybody won. There is no single issue to get behind now because the city's present hostility is pervasive, but the situation is just as dire.

The past 20 years were amazing for Seattle, and Sub Pop was there to foster — and profit from — local talent the whole way.

And no, it's not Sub Pop's responsibility to save Seattle nightlife. But it would be a lot cooler if they did.

A few must-see shows this week:

Saturday

Hard to encapsulate the sounds you'll hear at Sounds Outside at Cal Anderson Park; suffice to say "expect the unexpected" in the city's best out-jazz and experimental music (1 p.m., free, information at www.soundsoutside.com; read more on Page 4).

Wednesday

More free outdoor goodness: FreeYrRadio, a benefit for independent radio, showcases grungemeisters Mudhoney and punk duo No Age in the KEXP parking lot (8 p.m. Wednesday, free, information at www.freeyrradio.com).

Thursday

Moving from L.A. to Spokane to their current home in Portland has polished electro-soul outfit Hockey's frantic dance-floor jams like a Zamboni on ice. With Ms. Led, Division of Mars and Aristeia at the Comet ($5, 9 p.m. Thursday).

Jonathan Zwickel: zwickelicious@gmail.com