The place: Pittsburgh, the early to mid-1980s.

Musically, it was Pittsburgh's renaissance era. On almost any night of the week, some of the most notable bands ever to emerge from Western Pennsylvania were performing. You could hear Joe Grushecky and the Iron City Houserockers lay their lives on the line for rock 'n' roll, or opt for B.E. Taylor's blissful pop. The Silencers, featuring Frank Czuri and Warren King, were the ultimate in cool; Norman Nardini was the ultimate showman. Hailing from Beaver County were the boisterous, irrepressible Granati Brothers, and the guy who looked like everybody's next-door neighbor, Donnie Iris; both would make impacts nationally. The best singer• Unquestionably Billy Price, who helmed the Keystone Rhythm Band. Country fans had Gravel, led by Bob Corbin and Dave Hanner, the city's finest songwriters. David Werner and Phil Harris were iconoclastic, unique talents. And when punk finally reared its contrary head, Carsickness and The Five, and later, the Cynics and the Little Wretches, reflected that strata of music.

Equally important, the clubs that hosted bands -- including the Decade and the Electric Banana in Oakland, and Fat City in Swissvale -- had character and personality. Not to mention characters and personalities frequenting the premises.

It was a time unparalleled ... until now.

It's quite possible we are in the midst of another musical renaissance. Certainly the talent is present.

One Pittsburgh-based musician, Girl Talk, which features the talented mash-up artist Gregg Gillis, already has a huge national following.

Next in line are Donora and Lohio, Ben Hardt and Paul Luc and Emily Rodgers, Good Night, States and the Boogie Hustlers, Punchline and Ruckus & the Trousers. All talented musicians and songwriters. All have that most ephemeral of qualities: potential. Any of these musicians could break out nationally, such are their gifts and promise.

The conditions, however, are far different than they were in the early 1980s. The Internet is alternately a boon and a ballast for musicians. Literally, anyone can be discovered online. There's hope for a band in Missoula, Mont., Bangor, Maine and anywhere else where A&R reps rarely tread.

But the flip side of the Web is that music has become something less than a meritocracy. There are so many bands, so many Web sites, so many MySpace pages, that it's impossible to hear everything. Those kids in Missoula and Bangor might be good, but if the circumstances aren't right, nobody is going to hear them, such is the volume of Web pages devoted to music.

So what's a band to do•

You play any and every gig you can. You send out CDs (or MP3s) and cross your fingers. You hope against hope that an indie label (or even a major label) takes interest; that the music crosses the desks of fair-minded journalists who will give it a listen; that networking efforts with other bands in other cities pay dividends.

Being a musician today -- at least in the earliest stages -- is hard, daunting and economically a crapshoot.

It's comparable to the tree falling in a forest with no one around. The sound is great, but is anyone listening?

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