You can judge the cultural health of a city by its buildings. The more dumpy and derelict the structures within walking distance of a city centre, the greater the likelihood of finding a vibrant and innovative cultural scene in situ, writes Jim Carroll.

In Dublin right now, the best indicator of cultural change on the street is the amount of workers walking around wearing yellow vests. Last December, one of the leading workwear suppliers in the city was said to have an eight-week waiting list for these high- visibility safety vests. Add all these yellow vests to all those new building projects dotted around the city centre, and you begin to understand the dire lack of affordable space for studios, rehearsal rooms and seedy down-at-heel venues.

You could say that property development is killing rock'n'roll. Those buildings which would, once upon a time, have housed rehearsal spaces or rooms for noise-makers of one ilk or another have now been erased in favour of Spars, Centras, cafes and bijou apartments with all the trimmings.

There are still a few small pockets of resistance. But when even Foley Street, a previously nondescript and somewhat dodgy lane hidden behind Amiens Street and Talbot Street, is transformed into a canyon of new buildings, you realise that nowhere is truly safe from the speculative gaze of the investment property class. There's still a little rehearsal studio down there (and a vibrant church hall), but you have to wonder how long these will last in the new-look neighbourhood.

It's not that the artistic community has been made completely homeless - new buildings are being provided to make up for all that lost space. There are now purpose-built centres all around town that cater to everyone from dancers to musicians. There's even one perched on Foley Street itself.

Yet there's an inevitable conservatism about much of the work which is produced in these places. New buildings, like all those new convenience stores, may look bright and welcoming, but they frequently prove unattractive to those producing innovative commodities because the people in charge rarely understand or respond to interesting or challenging music or art. If you want something really new, you usually have to look in not-so-new environments.

Similar stories can probably be heard in other cities and towns around the country. Indeed, the erosion of cultural infrastructure because of property booms is not something which is unique to Ireland. The rising value of real estate in New York may provide the killer blow to landmark venue CBGB's. The club faces closure in the coming months because its landlord - a homeless agency - refuses to contemplate extending the lease due to an ongoing rent row.

While most of CBGB's income these days comes from T-shirt sales, the closure would still scrub another venue from New York's gig landscape, joining the Luna Lounge, Fez and Tonic on the list of clubs closed due to rising rents and skyrocketing property prices.

Any cool cachet which a venue or club brings to your area doesn't stand a chance when it's up against a new apartment block or office building.

What's needed to counter all this is more people like John Zorn. The composer is one of those behind Stone, a New York club which aims to be the most artist-friendly venue in town when it opens its doors later this month. All ticket revenue will go to the musicians, with no alcohol or food on sale inside. The club's running costs will be met through sales of limited-edition CDs featuring Zorn and various downtown luminaries. Zorn estimates it will cost $80,000 a year to run the club, which equates to 4,000 CDs at $20 a pop.

In Ireland, the chances of a Dublin Zorn coming out of the woodwork are few and far between. The mantra here is more yellow vests, less punk rock.