By Lindsay DePietro

The eleventh and final day of the Buffalo Infringement Festival 2025 wrapped up Sunday night (Aug. 3) at Milkie’s with closing performances and Iffy Awards being passed around. This departure also marked the end to my first Infringement journey, bringing with it a final flood of realizations born from this experience.

To sum up, a few words come to mind: community, support, dedication and the ultimate love for music.

When I first began to cover the festival I would wonder why many of the performances had such small crowds. Before beginning this journey, I thought to myself that this is an 11-day long festival and with so many performers involved, it was going to be a huge event. But what I discovered is that it is indeed huge, just not in the way I originally thought.

The fact of the matter is that the festival thrives because of the people who live for it — those who find joy in creating and sharing their art form and in witnessing others get to do the same. Whether an individual is a fixture in the Infringement scene, a seasoned performer, someone new to the experience or to performing, someone with deep talent, or someone sorely lacking in that department, they get the opportunity to perform. No matter who you are and what you have to offer, you are given a chance to do something that makes you happy and to share it with others.

I’m going to be honest, sometimes my ears were hurting a little bit. But people sat there and they clapped as loud as they could and they cheered for each performer. It didn’t matter how good you were, only that you were doing something you loved and that in itself was enough. It was honestly a joy to see a group of people come together and support each other no matter what.

When I first started talking with others about the festival they would tell me this sentiment, that anyone could join. Pamela Swarts, Infringement organizer, told me how teenagers get to perform for the first time, and that those that are shy or need to get experience under their belt get that opportunity through the festival. Others mirrored similar sentiments. All are true. But there is a piece missing that you don’t get to truly understand unless you’re there.

Yes, I was also told of the Infringement veterans. Those that just keep coming back or who have been helping with the festival for years. I thought “Wow, that’s so nice, they love it so much that they do it every year.” What I didn’t know is that there are the ones who not only perform once and call it a day, but who are involved in two, three, or four different acts.

Everywhere I turned there was MC Vendetta, or Pamela Swarts, or John Blake, or Cellosion in a different group from the last, putting on another performance, or Ryan Gurnett putting things together There were many individuals like those named who were a constant presence not only performing, but showing up to watch others as well. This showed me that it’s not just about getting or giving an opportunity to play, but about community, and doing something solely for the joy of it.

At the root of the festival is a community of individuals who share the same passions, many of whom have become great friends. Navigating through each day of Infringement, I began to realize that many of the performers and organizers have known each other for years and have grown close, brought together by the festival. This groundwork of individuals extends their arms to others each year, creating opportunities for others and giving people a space to be a part of something bigger than themselves.

“We’ve been going for 21 years, but there are still people who live in the city that don’t know about infringement. It’s a very grassroots, kind of underground thing, and unless you know someone who is participating or organizing it, there’s a lot of people that don’t know about it,” said Monica Power, Infringement Art Coordinator.

“I kind of like that because it gives us a chance to really do what infringement is, which is unexpected, unusual, and infringing into other spaces to make performances where people aren’t expecting it,” she added.

Artists performed whether there was one person in the audience (and sometimes this happened) or 100. It didn’t matter to people. The point was to be able to perform out in the open, and the shows went on regardless of size.

And Power was right. There were many occasions where people were not expecting to see a performance on a porch or a street corner or in a storefront. Individuals or families going about their regular day would stop in their tracks witnessing an Infringement performance, amazed that such a thing was going on. Sometimes people would stay a while to enjoy a show.

The way music and art affects people in such a monumental way became apparent as the days passed by. I saw this as I watched the same people perform over and over again in different venues and with different groups and each time they had such fun doing it, no matter how many people showed up. I saw it when speaking to people like Eamon McCallion at the Bicycle Bottle shop and seeing his eyes light up when talking to me about his art piece. Just being given a space to perform or show off something you created and having others take interest in it is such a fulfilling experience for people.

Simply watching how the music completely took over people’s bodies while they were singing, playing an instrument, or listening to a performance was magical. To put it in perspective, closing night there was a man who had to be at least 75 years old grooving on the dance floor and at Ol’ Wondermoth people would bounce around the lawn in midday, not being able to contain themselves from the persuasion of the music.

Closing night the Iffy Awards were given out. These awards are only paper plates, but they are created by Infringers with the purpose of giving another Infringer or Infringement venue their due. Seeing Power read these awards out loud on the last day was one final illustration of how much a community Infringement truly is.

Some more scenes from the Buffalo Infringement Festival Instagram page: