Every life deserves an Anthem—three chords, a couple verses and a chorus to lift the soul when the lights go down. At Anthem on Ashley, we find ours in the history of our little corner of the Fourth Ward. On this spot, just steps from Atlanta’s BeltLine, the ATL punk, garage-rock and metal music scenes were galvanized, wrung with sweat and littered with guitar strings, turned up to 11 in 100 or so 10x10 foot rehearsal spaces formerly known as Thunderbox Studios. Today that energy lives on, converted, as the creativity that bloomed here hums in the heartbeat of our apartment community, a new song rising out of the cigarette ash of one of Atlanta’s cultural icons.
"The Thunderbox was a place for me to walk in, and leave all of my stresses in the parking lot. I would walk through that door and dream, and create songs. I didn't think about my every day problems. I would collaborate with friends, bang on things, scream, make noise, and feel free. It was an escape. I miss it."
"Thunderbox's vibe was heavy, punky, chain-smoking, PBR-swilling gloriousness. This wasn't a place filled with nice, clean-cut kids with guitars and ambitions to be on The Voice...this was filthy carpet and really loud amps. It was cheap rent, cheap beer, and a lot of forgiveness from management. It was a last-of-its-kind gathering point for this city's DIY music scene, and I'm proud to have been a tiny part of it and sad to see it gone."