Syracuse Ska Forum

The scene the following night was very different when the Knit hosted an all-club ska show. The younger, more clean-cut crowd Monday night bounced and clapped as the Bluebeats played on the main stage. Bathed in green, blue and red light, the teenagers and 20-somethings were more likely to sport checked paperboy caps than piercings — though there were a few Mohawks, along with a skullcap or two.

One of the youngest ska fans was Finn, 12, who bobbed to the music beside his mother Diane McMillan. The two were in town briefly from Boston and McMillan was happy to find a venue where her son could get in.

“It’s good,” Finn shouted over the music.

Asked what he liked about it, he looked from side to side, eyes wide as they took in the pulsing crowd pressing toward the stage. Grinning, he shook his head.

“I don’t know!” he yelled.

The young audience meant that Steve, one of the bartenders, had little to do. Leaning against the bar, he estimated that only a quarter of the crowd was old enough to drink. The Knitting Factory is one of the city’s last all-age venues, he said.

Like nearly everyone else who works at the Knitting Factory, Steve, who did not give his last name, will be out of a job once the final New Year’s Eve show is over.

“I think it’s bull[crap] and they made all the wrong decisions,” he said.

The company gave workers six months’ notice, but that provides little consolation as they find themselves looking for jobs during an economic downturn.

Margolis, the company president, said he is keeping on a few staff members but can’t guarantee anyone else a position in a smaller venue that won’t open until the middle of the year.

When the Bluebeats’ set ended Monday night, the crowd migrated downstairs to the smaller Tap Bar, where another ska band, the Allstonians, were playing. Some moved another level down to the still smaller Old Office, where bands were selling merchandise.

Behind one table of CDs stood two members of Mrs. Skannotto, a ska band from Rochester that opened in the Tap Bar earlier that night. They had performed on Leonard St. several times before and sounded nostalgic about leaving it behind.

“It won’t be the same,” said drummer Tim Boss, 29.

“It’s not going to be our old stomping ground,” agreed trombonist Steve Jones, 34. “It’s a change and not everybody can adjust to change, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.”