Some say today’s music scene in Chicago is flooded with bands trying to promote only themselves. But on Nov. 14, nine bands played their first show with the slogan, “Monogamy is dead. We play together.”

The group calls themselves the Chicago Noise Machine, which was formed in an effort to create a music scene with the absence of individual egos. At 7 p.m., the doors opened for their first show at Cubby Bear, 1059 W. Addison St., and by 8 p.m., the venue was packed. Minus the bands, the staff, guest list and sponsors, a total of 736 people came through the door that night, said Stephen Francis, lead singer of indie rock band Reverie. The venue sold out by 11 p.m.

The nine bands that played were 72 Hours, Algren, A Birdsong Valentine, Bullet Called Life, Echo Son, Heavy the Fall, Lucid Ground, Reverie and Simplistic Urge.

The group has support from not only their individual fans but also sponsors, like radio station WKQX (Q101 FM), energy drink Vegas Fuel and music website FanFound.com, all of whom were present at the show throughout the night.

Each band’s set lasted about 30 minutes , rocking hard and playing their best songs. Francis said they limited set length to maximize exposure of all the participating bands as well as maximize the quality of music-in essence, a “best of” concert.

When bands rely on someone else to book them, Karl Hafner of Lucid Ground said, they often get “raped” out of most of the money. One of the motivations for organizing Chicago Noise Machine was to rid themselves of that problem.

“It’s a band amongst bands,” Hafner said. “It’s run by bands. So we know; we understand.”

In 2004, members of Lucid Ground and two other bands tried to create a scene of their own called Underground Sound Scene, an idea similar to Chicago Noise Machine, Hafner said. They only played a few shows at the Double Door, 1572 N. Milwaukee Ave., but phased out the project because it wasn’t having the effect they wanted.

“It obviously takes dedication,” he said. “It takes a big scene to do this. Three bands: That’s not a scene-that’s a show. Nine bands: Now we can make a scene.”

No single band is in charge of Chicago Noise Machine. The nine groups treat each other with equal respect, to the extent that they drew names out of a hat to have a fair order of bands for the show.

Around 15 to 20 more bands have already requested to be a part of Chicago Noise Machine and have been sending e-mails asking how to get involved, Francis said.

Chicago Noise Machine is looking to expand, but only with bands that work hard and can draw a crowd, Hafner said. When they bring in bands, they will be looking for groups with professional attitudes who support the scene and Chicago Noise Machine, Francis said.

“What we want to get it to is where the crowd has a chance to see [more than one band],” Francis said. “A lot of the time they show up to see one band and leave. I think it’s an attention span thing, and I think it’s a patience thing.”

The idea for the group originated in July when a few of the bands were at the Elbo Room, 2871 N. Lincoln Ave., having a couple of drinks and talking about the way the scene used to be, said Brian Bender, lead singer of A Birdsong Valentine. Bands used to support each other, he said, but are more self-centered these days. They want Chicago Noise Machine to change that.

“A lot of people are like, ‘It’s me, me, I, I,’ Bender said. “It’s never like, ‘Well I went out last night and saw a great band at the Double Door.’ The great thing about Chicago Noise Machine, it’s ‘we.’ It’s ‘us.’ It’s not ‘I.’ Everyone is involved with it. Everyone goes out and promotes it. Everyone does the interviews. It’s like a brotherhood.”

When the first few bands were set on creating Chicago Noise Machine, they compiled a list of all the bands they play with in Chicago, Bender said. Then they went through the list, crossing off bands they wouldn’t think would work and ended up with a variety of nine different acts.

“It’s [an] eclectic type of music,” he said. “It’s not all screamo-indie. It’s not just all one style of music. You want to dance? You got A Bullet Called Life. You want some great harmonies and shredding guitars? You got Simplistic Urge. You want laid-back, easy music? You got Reverie. There’s so many different types of music, and somehow we all mesh.”

Melody Santos, 30, a self-proclaimed music connoisseur, said she came out to the show to see Simplistic Urge and expected to leave right after they played, but stuck around because the other bands were

so good.

“I would come to every single show [of Chicago Noise Machine] if it was in the realm of possibility,” she said. “Not just because of Simplistic Urge, but because these bands have really shown me something.”

She said there is not one particular venue where she can show up and expect to see a good show, but she gives credibility to Chicago Noise Machine.

“It’s all about the band-whoever’s playing, “she said. “These guys really have a presence on stage-that’s my biggest thing with concerts-they need to have a presence, an energy, a fire about them. And these bands all have it. It’s been really awesome so far.”

By midnight, there was no way to get from one side of the stage to the other without bumping into a dozen people, and the Cubby Bear had to open a back room of the venue to let people spread out.

“People have stuck around,” Francis said, toward the end of the show. “They’re enjoying themselves. Everyone’s partying, listening to music. [We] can’t ask for anything more.”

Dan Graunke of Heavy the Fall said he has no idea why bands haven’t done anything like this before, and he expects Chicago Noise Machine to progressively expand across the music scene in Chicago, and possibly take it over.

“I’m proud of it, but I don’t feel honored to be a part of it,” Graunke said. “It’s just a big family. I love the other bands, and everyone’s awesome.”

Francis said they haven’t made plans for what they will do next, but they are thinking about holding an all-day event or moving to a bigger venue with two stages. They also might just stick to the same plan for a while.

“You can’t ignore something like this,” Francis said. “I’ve never seen anything like this in the 10 years I’ve been in music.”