The Alley, an underage music venue, has quickly become a hot spot for local teens to see their favorite bands perform. Photos by Lea Rudner/R-Jeneration. The Alley is run by the members of the local band Fletch, making it an unusual venue.

The sweltering landscape and fluorescent lights of Las Vegas promise fun and entertainment for tourists from all around the world. But for Vegas teens searching for live, local music, Sin City is a desolate town. The city's underage music fans face few all-ages concert venues. Where can teenagers seek listening pleasure?

Once, the town boasted several venues and concert halls prevalent with locals, especially teenagers. Now, most such lounges for live music have disappeared. The Roadhouse, once popular with teens, transformed itself into a 21-and-older venue. Doggystyle, another common locals' music site, closed down. And both Jillians and Gameworks erratically host Vegas bands, if at all, often confusing concertgoers.

But at the Alley, a former theater remodeled as a concert hall, local bands have discovered an all-ages venue where they can perform on Friday and Saturday nights and expose Las Vegas to their music. Fletch, a Vegas rock band, has been operating the Alley for about six months.

As Ryan Brasher, 17, Fletch's guitarist, explains, the band felt exasperated by the local music scene, especially in its treatment of musicians. "With (Gameworks') '5 Bands for $5,' your band is worth a dollar. The level of entertainment was degrading for musicians."

The Alley also looks to change a seemingly blasè Vegas music scene, campaigning for local bands. "(The Alley is) a venue run by a band for bands. Our best interest is the bands," says Brasher. "We want to see them do well, and thrive, and get better equipment."

The Alley, at 8125 W. Sahara Ave., has a capacity of approximately 450 concertgoers. Most weekends, the shows sell out; the Alley enjoys electrifying success. Local rising stars Panic! At the Disco performed there recently, drawing an evocative crowd. "It's a cool place to be," Brasher says.

The Alley hosts music genres ranging from the screamo to the emo to the indie. According to Brasher, mostly high school students, and an increasing number of middle schoolers, frequent the Alley. Ages for patrons have dipped as low as 10. "I think a lot of kids went to their first show at the Alley," Brasher says.

Ultimately, the Alley strives to shake up the Vegas scene, but it's among the few that sound off precisely for the underage fans and resident bands.

The House of Blues -- a venue with a capacity of 1,800 -- finds that it is difficult to book a local band. "Not a lot of local bands can draw enough people," says Max McAndrew, the HOB's talent buyer. Instead of headlining any local acts, the House of Blues aims to place Vegas artists on national shows. "What we try to do is break the band. We try to build the artist in this market," McAndrew explains.

Moreover, 65 percent of the House of Blues' concerts are 21-and-older, restricting resident teens from attending a variety of shows. Still, local bands like Hemlock and Monroe have performed at the HOB. "Anything we're involved in with local bands, we're trying to support," McAndrew says.

But their ticket prices and inability to play local talents exacerbate local music fans' aggravation.

"I don't see (casino venues) benefiting the scene as much, and local music doesn't get to play there," Brasher says. "It doesn't reflect the Las Vegas music scene." Like many music fans, he feels bemusedly baffled by these venues' high-ticket prices. "I don't even know what to say about that. There are bands that have problems charging $10 because they think it's too much. We (the Alley) charge $10 -- that's less than a frappuccino at Starbucks, per band!"

Vegas musicians bemoan more than overcharging, however. Nick Gamboa, 18, drummer for Seraphim, a local band mixing metal with grunge and hard rock, encounters difficulty in building a fan base without being able to play more frequently and to larger crowds. "It's hard (to get booked at venues) because most of the places are 21-and-older, and (the band members) are all under that age," Gamboa admits.

Seraphim, which attempts to play at least one show per month, usually books gigs at a friend's house. But as an alternative to live music venues, the house show can provide several inconveniences: cramped space, spastic crowds, blaring noise and incensed neighbors. Gamboa recounts, "Before we play (a house show), we make sure it's cool with everyone in the area. But even then we've had the cops called on us once."

Those concerned about the local music scene see several other underlying problems aside from the venues. Jeff Pees, manager of Vegas Ska -- a union between promoters, venues, and ska bands -- cites a lack of cooperation as the main problem behind the dreary musical outlook for Las Vegas. "We don't have a united local scene," Pees asserts. "We need more venues who will work with local music promoters."

Brasher views the situation similarly. He finds that "comradery and participation within bands themselves" are noticeably absent from Las Vegas. "If bands got together, we could accomplish more -- we could accomplish unity."

Many musicians and promoters believe residents are at fault as well. "It seems that many (teens) aren't willing to do much when it comes to shows," Pees says. Gamboa echoes the thought, blaming apathetic, nonchalant teenagers. "Nobody pushes for anything in Vegas."

Still, the issues circulate around the short supply of music venues. To most, more concert halls would move locals to support and build Vegas' music. "More venues would be awesome. The more places to play, the better!" Brasher exclaims.

Gamboa concludes with a sigh, "We need more venues. The talent's here. But not the venues."