If you've strolled by High Voltage Music Store on Pike Street near Broadway recently, you may have noticed a FOR LEASE sign in its window. It went up about five days ago, according to Chris Lomba, one of three High Voltage owners, along with Nathan Ellis Brown and Pat Gray. He's working on a red Fender guitar when I enter his store to ask about the sign. A copy of Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum rests under his hands as he answers the questions.

So, why is there a for lease sign in High Voltage's window, Chris? Lomba says that although HV has about two and a half years left on its lease, business has tailed off after the Chophouse rehearsal space around the corner closed and when the Comet Tavern stopped being a music venue seven days a week, and that has made the company's bosses uneasy. "The lease sign means that you could sublet the space from us, which would be taking over the space for the remainder of our lease at the price and terms that we currently have it," Lomba explains. "If nobody bites on that, we’ll just continue on."

Lomba stresses over and over that HV wants to remain in its current space, but admits that they've "had a little trouble keeping inventory in here. As you know, nothing’s getting cheaper [in this city]. That’s been cutting into our business a little bit. We’re gonna try to stick around. [The sign is] not quite the white flag; it’s just that we might have to move to a less expensive space. We might try to do some crowd-sourcing to get more inventory in here and have a little more money for advertising and see if we can’t stick around. We love this area and all of our patrons who check us out… and even some of the newer crowd that’s coming into the neighborhood is definitely stopping by and figuring out we’re here. So we’re at that halfway mark and we’re trying to make sure we can stick around for as long as possible.

"It seemed good to entertain the idea of subleasing in order to be in a spot where the rent would be cheaper. It’s still not cheap. I’m sure people are paying higher rates that have come into the neighborhood since we’ve been here. It’s certainly something to be considered. I’m sure wherever we go, it could be less expensive for a while, until gentrification catches up to whatever that neighborhood is. We’ll see."

Lomba says HV's rent hasn't increased drastically, but it does go up incrementally per year. "There’s an allowance for that, which is normal. Part of it is, we may have opened the store a little light on funds. If we had had more money to begin with, we wouldn’t be having inventory issues. Kind of typical stuff. But certainly losing the Chophouse and the Comet as a seven-day-a-week music venue has put a dent in our bread and butter we get every day. At first it wasn’t that impactful, but it’s started to add up. Having [the now-defunct] Platinum across the street from us was also beneficial."

Lomba says he wants to do more musical events in HV, which would likely increase revenue, but the noise would bother the tenants in the apartments above it. "We’ll hold on to as much as we possibly can to keep the place alive," he says. "When the Art Walk goes on, we have informal parties here with bands and we hang artwork and everybody has a great time. And this room sounds fantastic with a band in it. It’s uncanny how awesome it sounds here. The last Block Party, Rhapsody filmed some bands in here and their crew was really impressed with how it sounds here. So I would rather stick around and keep some life in here. We might do some benefit stuff."

As a customer starts playing a ukulele, Lomba says, "I’ve been fighting not to have that sign in the window. I want to start a Kickstarter, because I want to buy some real woodworking machinery so I could build electric guitars and do it quickly so I don’t have to charge five million dollars for 'em. My hope is to make them for $1,000, which is reasonable for a handmade electric guitar. It would be great to have a Seattle brand. There are certainly people who make guitars in town, but it would be cool to do maybe a hundred a year, and support the rest of the store."

Lomba notes that repairs are where HV really makes its money, more so than selling gear. He is the shop's luthier and main repair person, a job he's been doing for nearly 20 years, building a substantial clientele. "Whether we move or not, we’re going to start offering pickup and delivery service of instruments," Lomba says. "We want to make it easier for musicians, especially with amplifiers. The retail side is not the greatest. A lot of people shop online. Not to be bitter, but nobody wants the Amazon folks to move into their neighborhood, but everybody shops on Amazon," he says with a rueful laugh. "We have done zero advertisement. All of it’s been word of mouth, which has been fantastic. Musicians around town know who we are. Those folks have put the effort into spending their money here."

Lomba cautions that HV is not "in danger of closing in a week. It’s not dire circumstances, but there are three of us who are owners, and two of us feel like that would be the best move. If someone bites, we’ll probably move off the Hill. It’s only been two and a half years that we’ve been here, but the jump in what we got this lease for and pretty much any other space that I’ve seen [in Capitol Hill], we couldn’t really find anything that would be cheaper and therefore affordable. We’ve looked in the International District, the south and north Beacon Hill area, where commercial leases still seem inexpensive. The most likely candidate at this point would be the International District. If they ever get this train on the track [motions toward Broadway], it would be helpful for bringing Capitol Hill folks down to that area."

High Voltage is literally Lomba's dream come true, something he vowed to a friend 20 years ago after first moving to Seattle that he'd own, and he values the large core of musicians concentrated in Capitol Hill. But harsh financial realities could force him and his partners out of here. "The sign was to ease the fears of my business partners," Lomba continues. "We have investors. We don't owe anybody a huge amount of money, but they're thinking, 'When are we gonna pay that off?' We're thinking, 'When's the rent gonna increase?' It's not an ego thing, but I think when people walk through the door, and they hang out, they feel good about it. We try to make it relaxed and inviting to people who want to play music or just wanna check it out. And the cat helps," Lomba concludes, laughing.