Washington, D.C. may be most known as the heart of American politics, but beneath the surface of political discourse and monumental landmarks lies a vibrant, pulsating heart of a different kind—the city’s thriving music scene. From the soulful rhythms of go-go music, unique to the capital, to the hard-hitting sounds of its historic punk rock movement, D.C. offers an eclectic and rich musical heritage. And at the center of this cultural ecosystem, for more than four decades, has been Seth Hurwitz and the venues he’s nurtured into institutions.
Hurwitz didn’t set out to become D.C.’s music curator. “It was never about a career,” he reflects. “People ask me all the time, ‘How did you envision all this? How did you plan?’ We really didn’t plan anything. It’s all about just putting on a show.” Yet through this show-by-show approach, he’s done something far more significant than build a business—he’s shaped the identity and rhythm of an entire city’s cultural landscape.
The Original 9:30 Club: Where Misfits Found Family
In the 1980s, the 9:30 Club at 930 F Street N.W. was D.C.’s hub for alternative music, establishing itself as a key venue for punk and new wave bands on East Coast tours. The original location, with a capacity of fewer than 200 people, was “truly alternative” in every sense. Large structural poles obstructed views of the stage, massive rats crawled along the floor and in the rafters, and an odious stench hung in the air at all times. Yet it was precisely in these conditions that the punk, hardcore, and go-go scenes of the era thrived.
Dave Grohl, who would later become known as the drummer for Nirvana and creator of Foo Fighters, was one of countless young people who made the trek from the suburbs to catch shows at the club. He remembers begging to be let into the venue, which allowed fans as young as 16 to enter. At the venue’s 2023 opening of The Atlantis, Grohl captured what made that original space so transformative: “It was all the misfits, all the kids from the suburbs and kids from town, that found a family together in places like the old 9:30 Club.”
Dody DiSanto, one of the original owners, recalled that cops used to ask her incredulously where the attendees came from, suggesting they seemed so out of the ordinary that they might have “crawled out from under rocks.” This wasn’t an insult to DiSanto or Hurwitz—it was a badge of honor. The 9:30 Club was giving voice and space to people who didn’t fit anywhere else.
When Hurwitz and his business partner bought the financially struggling club in 1986, they inherited more than a venue—they inherited a cultural responsibility. “The 9:30 Club has always been a home for acceptance—whatever you are, it’s okay,” Hurwitz explains. “So people who appreciate that worked there, and thankfully it has carried on through the years. Those people hired our next generation and they hired the generation after that, and that culture kept getting passed on.”
A Deliberate Choice to Stay Local
In an industry where success often means expansion, Hurwitz has made a deliberate choice that defines his impact on D.C.: he’s stayed put. “I’m not national, and I’ve never had a desire to be national,” he says. “I like to quote Marcus Aurelius: ‘if you seek tranquility, do less.’ So why do I need other markets? I don’t. I’m doing fine here.”
This philosophy isn’t about lack of ambition—it’s about depth over breadth. “The people that have other markets as leverage are so light years ahead of me. I could never catch up with them. So I need to be the best in D.C. and let my competitors come in and do shows so they don’t build one themselves.”
By choosing to focus exclusively on D.C., Seth Hurwitz has been able to cultivate something corporate promoters with venues in dozens of cities cannot: an intimate understanding of a city’s cultural DNA. He knows the artists, the audiences, the neighborhoods, the history. This local expertise allows him to program shows that resonate specifically with D.C. audiences, creating a musical ecosystem that feels authentic rather than imported.
The Move and the Legacy
In 1996, the 9:30 Club relocated from its tiny, grungy original spot to a new location at 815 V Street N.W., with a capacity of 1,200. The move was necessary to grow artists’ careers and accommodate the club’s success, but it came with risks. Would the larger space lose the intimacy that made the original special? Would the culture survive the transition?
The answer came definitively: the venue thrived. Today, the 9:30 Club is the most attended nightclub of its size in the world. Gracing its stage have been legends like Bob Dylan, Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson, and James Brown; rising stars like Turnstile, Sabrina Carpenter, and Billy Strings; and arena acts doing intimate shows—Adele, Foo Fighters, The Weeknd, Billie Eilish, Radiohead, and countless others. The club has won multiple Top Club awards from Billboard, Rolling Stone, and Pollstar.
But the true measure of the club’s impact isn’t found in awards or attendance numbers—it’s in the artists whose careers were shaped there. Fugazi’s debut at the 9:30 Club put D.C. on the post-hardcore-punk map. The Smashing Pumpkins, Radiohead, and Foo Fighters all had groundbreaking performances at I.M.P.-managed venues during crucial moments in their development. Over the years, I.M.P. has hosted more than 20,000 events, drawing millions of music fans and leaving a lasting impact on the live music scene.
The Atlantis: Honoring the Past, Building the Future
In 2023, Hurwitz unveiled The Atlantis, a near replica of the original 9:30 Club with a 450-person capacity, located right next door to the current club. On opening night, Hurwitz and Dave Grohl symbolically snipped a large guitar string instead of cutting a ribbon. As a tribute to I.M.P.’s 44th anniversary, they booked 44 massive acts in intimate underplays—Foo Fighters, Joan Jett, George Clinton, The Pretenders, Maggie Rogers, and Tove Lo among them. There were 520,000 requests for 20,000 tickets.
The Atlantis embodies the intimate and edgy ambiance reminiscent of the original club, with homages throughout. The heinous odor and rats were left to be bygones, but Hurwitz made sure to install at least one big structural pole. The original front desk was salvaged and installed. The rooftop features an art installation recreating what the street looked like when the original club was open, with period newspaper boxes, vintage posters, and graffiti re-created by original artists.
Hurwitz, along with I.M.P.’s creative director, didn’t want it to feel like a haunted house holding ghosts of a lost era, nor like a carefully curated museum to be looked at but not touched. The Atlantis is simultaneously a love letter to something old and a promise of something new.
The Why Behind the Work
“I like to have an influence on the city. I like to have an influence on people’s lives in a good way,” Hurwitz says when asked about his motivation. “My favorite thing in the whole world is standing at that line where my box is at The Anthem, which is right on the stage line. I’ve said ‘hi’ to the band and watched people come in and on both sides of the stage—everyone is happy and there’s this joy there. I know what the people went through, they bought tickets and waited for the show and waited in line, and now they’re here and the show starts. That’s the best moment ever.”
This isn’t the language of a businessman—it’s the language of someone who understands that venues are more than real estate and shows are more than transactions. They’re communal experiences, moments of connection, spaces where culture is created and preserved.
In an era when big entertainment companies focus on large venues suited for famous musicians, Hurwitz’s commitment to spaces like The Atlantis represents something essential: the preservation of intimate live music experiences where direct, personal connections between performers and audiences can flourish. These venues create the conditions for artists to take creative risks, for fans to discover new sounds, for communities to form around shared musical passions.
Washington, D.C.’s cultural heartbeat—the rhythm beneath the political noise—has been shaped by countless artists, fans, and cultural workers over decades. But few have had the sustained, transformative impact of Seth Hurwitz. Through the 9:30 Club, The Atlantis, and the broader work of I.M.P., he’s given the city’s misfits a home, its artists a stage, and its music lovers a family. That’s a legacy that transcends any single show or venue—it’s the sound of a city finding its soul.
