The space has changed a lot over the years. Indeed, it's
barely recognizable from the chaotic mess it was just over 18
months ago, before E. took it upon himself to renovate. A
complete overhaul of the kitchen that included raising the
floor and installing a dishwasher and new shelves was
instigated, and the lounge area was thoroughly cleared of its
clutter of music gear.
Reflecting on what has made Faceplant the preferred choice
of some of the city's more discriminating rockers, E. notes
the view as well as the rates—not the cheapest, but not the
most expensive—and a sense of community. E. and Plut are happy
to keep Faceplant operating at a bare minimum, and so they
rent out the rooms just often enough to pay the bills. Instead
of advertising, they rely on word of mouth, thus ensuring all
the musicians know and/or have played with each other.
Hallett, for instance, once sang in Arthur Ellis with
keyboardist Fish, who is represented at this year's Facefest
with his techno project Transgress. Hallett also sings and
drums in her pop band Shrimpmeat, and drums with rock singer
Lambert, both of which play Facefest 2002.
"We're proud of Faceplant," says Plut. "We wanted a place
musicians could be comfortable. The first five years were
tough, but now it's flourished into a community of like-minded
individuals. They see the value in the place."
And never underestimate the attraction of a clean bathroom.
"It's kind of weird," adds E. "People always mention how clean
the bathroom is. A number of people have walked in and gone
straight to the bathroom and decided to stay." 
