Whose Warehouse Was That?

This may be a directionless thought. But in reading David Harvey's "The Right To The City", I began thinking about the 21st century American craft brewery. By all accounts, the boom of local breweries across the country (with many in the Southeast) has had a positive impact socially and economically on small and medium-sized cities.

Every time I go to a brewery, after getting over the abusive acoustical environment (often exacerbated by a mediocre cover band), I wonder what collective group of individuals previously occupied the seemingly industrial environment that is now sprinkled with cheap picnic tables and Goodwill furniture; in other words, the perfect setting for a $50 bar tab.

Many breweries are on the fringes of urban centers, adjacent to industrial transportation infrastructure, or within the boundaries of an old mill village. But, just like their artisan coffee shop sisters, they all look the same. And that, I think, is because they serve the same economic purpose. No matter which 30-something (swm?) father of 3 is choosing to patronize the brewery; it is solely there to provide alcohol and a space to complain about the stresses of the 9-5.

Even if a particular brewery begins to take on sentimentality for those who frequent, its aesthetic and economic value is entirely globalized. This is not to say that "think local" is the answer. But that it seems much of our urban identities are tied to capitalist expectations of our preferences. Is this our agency or our control? And whose warehouse was that?