A live music venue built inside a grain silo on the agricultural fringe north of Green Bay, where the corrugated steel walls create an acoustic environment that sounds like playing inside a tin can and somehow works beautifully for the raw, loud, angry music that The Silo books. Capacity is maybe 150 if everyone is friendly about personal space, and the single entrance doubles as the only exit, which gives every show an intensity born from the knowledge that if something goes wrong, everyone is going through the same door.

The Silo is run by a farming family — the Johansson-Ndiaye clan — who got into the music business accidentally when their daughter started hosting shows for her friends and the thing grew until it became the premiere punk and industrial venue north of Milwaukee. There's no liquor license; the family sells homemade cider from their orchard and pretends the mason jars of clear liquid in the back aren't what everyone knows they are. Bands play on a wooden platform built from old barn boards, and the sound check consists of someone yelling from the back to see if the vocals are audible over the drums. They usually aren't. Nobody minds.