By offering local bands free studio access in exchange for limited music and video rights, Hen House is trying to create a ‘multimedia company for the 21st century’

You’ve been jamming with your friends and it’s time to get out of the garage and start playing gigs. But you don’t have a demo CD so clubs won’t book you. And without the gigs, you can’t afford the studio time to cut a demo.

For an increasing number of L.A. bands, the answer to that chicken-and-egg conundrum is Hen House.

Nineteen months ago, musician, producer, sound engineer and documentary filmmaker Harlan Steinberger opened his small Venice recording studio to the Los Angeles music community. As word began to spread that Steinberger was offering free recording time and professional engineering in exchange for video rights to the sessions and limited rights to the music, his phone was soon ringing off the hook.

And while Steinberger, 39, hopes to create a profitable business through the venture by producing and marketing compilation albums and licensing music and video footage he is primarily motivated by a desire to create what he calls “a multimedia company for the 21st century.” One that makes use of digital technology to capture images and sounds that are adaptable to a wide variety of platforms. And, just as importantly, one that thrives while allowing musicians to retain ownership and control of their creative output.

“It’s about building a community of artists, and I think we’re really starting to do that,” said Steinberger. “I like being on the cutting edge of this business, and I like not dealing with the labels and distributors.”

Besides helping fledgling bands get off the ground, Hen House, through Steinberger’s extensive contacts in the local music scene, is also bringing more established names into the studio such as John Densmore of The Doors and L.A. underground mainstays Fishbone.

“Everybody in L.A. is talking about Hen House,” said Fishbone founder Norwood Fisher, whose other band, Trulio Disgracias, will appear on Hen House’s first compilation CD, “Hen House Anthology Volume 1,” which is due out this summer.

“I go down there just to hang out sometimes,” Fisher said. “There’s a lot of cross pollination going on down there. People are playing on other people’s stuff. It’s just a very creative vibe.”

Hen House is tucked in the back of an industrial complex on a Venice side street where sculptors and painters occupy space next to machine shops and marine businesses. The property was originally a dairy farm and Hen House takes its name from its location, which is where an actual hen house stood when the farm was in operation.

Bands invited to record are given enough time to put down three songs. In exchange, Hen House receives the rights to videotape the sessions and can pick one of the three recordings to use on a compilation CD.

“Some musicians will come in with substandard equipment, so we can set them up with a lot of great gear,” Steinberger said. “The more successful musicians want to record during the day, because they’re gigging at night. A lot of the younger bands come in at night.”

Besides holding an option to use one of the songs on a CD, Hen House can pursue other deals for the material. That includes licensing as background music in ads or use on the company Web site, Henhousestudios.com.

But Hen House only has rights to the music recorded in its studio, not to the song itself. After a grace period of six months or a year, the artists can release the music in any format they like.

Hen House’s evolving business model is anything but a sure shot. But Steinberger, who splits ownership of the venture with a group of silent investors around $200,000 has been invested so far said he has the funding to continue operating for at least four or five years. In his view, that’s enough time to build a valuable music and video library, release 20 to 25 CDs and establish the Hen House brand as a symbol of quality and artistic integrity.

Rather than teaming with a major distributor, Hen House plans to market its compilations in-house, using its Web site and word of mouth to push the brand name locally. The studio also recently sent out 5,000 mailers to subscribers of Billboard magazine. Hen House’s video library already comprises hundreds of hours of footage.

“(Bands) are signing over the master to us, but not the intellectual property rights,” Steinberger said. “I’m a writer myself so I understand why writers should never have to give up their property rights.”

Framelift, formerly called Fatal Charm, was one of the first to take advantage of free studio time. At the time the band members were attending St. Monica’s Catholic School in Santa Monica and Steinberger had to get their parents’ permission before the band could record in the studio.

Lead singer George Nakhla said hearing their tape was a revelation for the band, which had all ready been playing live thanks to a loyal following from fellow students.

“We’d been together for four years and when we got into the studio we found out that we didn’t sound like what we wanted to sound like, we knew we had a lot of tightening up to do,” Nakhla said.

Ultimately, Hen House put together a mini-documentary of the band, recording them in the studio, playing live and even accompanying band members to their high school prom.

“It’s was a great opportunity because people don’t understand how expensive studio time is,” Nakhla said. Plus, now we have this whole documentary of when we were a young band.”

For Steinberger, helping with the maturation of bands like Framelift is where the fun comes in. “We want to sell our records but we’re more interested in being the ones who help bands get over the hump,” he said. “Sometimes it feels a little philanthropic but less so everyday. The growth so far has been phenomenal. Over time, I feel it’s really going to pay for itself.”