The coolest punk club in South Jersey is in the basement of a Pennsauken house

Pennsauken’s coolest punk club is in the Flemming family basement.

Club Germ is located at an address we won’t reveal — “Our landlord doesn’t know we do this,” says Donna, smiling conspiratorially — where a little more than two years ago, her sons Casey and Johnny turned the family’s basement into a punk rock live venue.

“Mainly because we could, mainly because the live scene in South Jersey sucks, with nowhere to play, and mainly because our friends were totally into it, and stayed into it,” says Johnny “Germ” Flemming, 30, the guitarist of Breaklite who books bands for the club.

“We had played house parties in Philly before Germ, and just decided that we could do it easier and better,” says Casey "K.C. Germ” Flemming, 25, Breaklite’s bassist and club overseer.

“They did this with our total blessing,” says their father, John Flemming. “Just as long as they didn’t do anything wrong to warrant getting shut down, I’d rather have them here, and know what they’re up to and where they’re at, than roaming the streets or driving under the influence.”

Club Germ is a tiny, sweaty room, with no windows and a low ceiling. “And yes, I’ve witnessed crowd-surfing down there,” says K.C.

Adorned with lights strung from every beam, with amps stacked to the ceiling and sticker-covered walls, Germ is a proudly DIY affair. “Hey, I’ve been to worse dive bars,” says John with a laugh. “The boys did a good job.”

That scene is in danger of closing down. The family has been told that the landlord wants to move back into the house, and that might mean the end of the club as the Flemmings know it. K.C. and Johnny say they have their eyes out for a space where they could live and play live music. While their father talks about a spot with large yard and a separate shed they can retool into a live venue, Johnny Germ thinks a warehouse might be the way to go.

“[Club Germ is] something we’ll look at on a month-to-month basis,” says K.C. during a phone call before Saturday night’s show. “We never know until we know.”

But until then, Club Germ continues. Unlike most rock clubs, you can smoke at Club Germ and bring your own beer. There’s a professional soundboard run by the Flemming brothers’ pal Steve; a keyboard that’s more of a resting place for guitar cases and less of a usable instrument; a huge, backlit homemade Club Germ sign behind the drum riser; and several merchandise tables, one a resting spot for a furry black dog with a studded collar. “Our parents live on the third floor, we own the basement, and we meet in the middle,” says Johnny, tousling his shaggy, dyed-platinum hair.

As the parents and I speak in their kitchen, kids come up the stairs to use the bathroom and say hello to the family. “We take in all strays. We let them sleep here after the shows, upward of 20 and 30 at a time. I don’t want them just roaming the streets if they’re tired. Besides, some of the bands traveled long ways to get here — the U.K., the West Coast. Jarod Clemons crashed on our couch after his gig,” Donna says proudly of the son of Clarence Clemons, the late E Street saxophonist, who performed some of his earliest live showcases at Germ.

Mostly, however, it is old friends of the Flemming brothers who’ve played Club Germ, such as the folk punk outfit Oscar, the pummeling The Stone Eye, or Ugli’s Dylan Wagner, who, on Saturday, performed a noisily Kurt Cobain-like “Easy Way Out” in a bejeweled bikini top and torn stockings.

After each set — surprisingly quiet and muffled from the outside — concertgoers descend out of the basement and into the Flemming family driveway and onto the street. “But respectfully, seriously, as we keep things clean and as quiet as possible with bottles in the recycle bin and butts in the ashtray,” says Johnny.

“When Club Germ first started it was just K.C. and Johnny and all their friends,” says Mike Parry of the band Dead Flowers. “Now, I hardly know everyone there it has grown so much. … These shows would be great anywhere, but the fact that they do this in their basement — and it looks and sounds like it does — is awesome. They didn’t set out to create a scene, but they did.”