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Column: This year, give the gift of a live concert

Everyone knows it’s the season for giving. The challenge is, what do you give? Do you give something funny? Something meaningful or handmade? Ideally, you give something so profoundly balanced, the recipient’s glowing gratitude will feel like a gift in return.

Or maybe it’s easier than that: a movie, a TV series on DVD or an album. Or perhaps something that respectfully celebrates the recipient’s free will: a gift card. But maybe that’s a cop-out. Or, even worse, a clear indication you don’t know the person well enough to confidently splurge on something he or she will like.

Every winter, the answer hides as stubbornly as the year before. But thankfully, from November to December, holiday gift guides crop up everywhere.

So, here’s another gift guide, short and sweet: Throw a house show.

If the idea seems simple, yet definitively awesome, it’s because it is. For decades, young bands have found their niches by playing small, intimate venues that let them show off their personalities alongside their chops.

In Boston, bands like Christians and Lions and Protokoll have made names for themselves making rounds on the house show circuit. House show regulars The Specific Heats even spawned a house of their own. Although the band has moved out, the residents of “The Heats House” on Mission Hill still hold shows. Acts like Tigersaw, Lindsay Vandermark and The Robot Ate Me have performed by the glow of Christmas lights in their basement.

Holiday cheer aside, ’tis clearly the season to open up your house to local musicians. For one thing, it’s cold outside. Keep yourself and your favorite musicians warm by packing your house with friends, family and a couple of amps. Everyone will appreciate the music and the warmth, and (aside from a small, suggested monetary donation per person for the band) your guests just need to bring body heat.

House shows even let you flex your muscles as a good, thoughtful neighbor. Don’t plan for anything too loud, and invite your neighbors in. Living in a college town, close to campus, the chances are high that on a weekend your neighbors will be young, restless and excited by a crowded apartment resonating with good music. This works in the bands favor, too – more people equals more fond recollections of that blustery winter night they found solace in your apartment, with so-and-so playing the soundtrack. Word-of-mouth is a budding band’s best friend.

Finally, there’s no gift greater than live music.

Last Friday, more than 50 people crowded into my best friend’s tiny Mission Hill living room to celebrate his 21st birthday. We had drinks in our hands and on our breath, but we were obedient and nearly silent. In the corner, local indie-rocker Yoni Gordon tuned his acoustic guitar. The singer-songwriter plays all around Boston and has opened for Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, but that night, he was playing for us.

From a roster of fun originals to covers of “No Scrubs” by TLC and “Dancing in the Dark” by Bruce Springsteen, Gordon spotted his set with personal touches, like stories, dedications and birthday wishes for my friend. It was one of the best times I’ve had at a show, not least because each moment felt like it belonged to all of us – not just a faraway band on a stage.

“The band’s so close – they’re right in front of you,” said Ben Gram, a third-year music industry major. His experimental instrumental rock outfit, Eroica, is trying to book a house show of its own to cap off their mini-tour in late December. Gram spoke to the integrity of intimacy; he said playing live and connecting with a crowd is the best way for a band to showcase its music.

“[A good, small show] does so much more than a nice recording or a nice MySpace,” Gram said. “You’re a lot closer to the music.”

When Eroica recently played a show at All Asia, a one-room venue in Cambridge, Gram got a feel for the intimacy of small spaces: The crowd – mostly friends, and a couple of surprise strangers – was less than a foot from the stage. That night, “a lot closer” meant Gram could effortlessly touch the the head stock of his blue Les Paul to someone in the front row. With a band in your living room, “a lot closer” could mean swapping holiday cards for show flyers, helping out on sound check and brewing some extra mugs of hot cocoa.

– Danielle Capalbo can be reached at [email protected]

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