CBGB, the movie, is available tomorrow on DVD. I haven’t read/heard anything positive about the film set around the famed NYC music venue. Apparently it displays such outright atrocities for fans of the early punk rock scene as a depiction of Patti Smith performing “Because The Night” at her club debut. (Of course that song would not emerge until a couple of years later.) One would think that the music history aspect would have been the easy part to get right. Negative buzz aside, the temptation to see portrayals of folks like Cheetah Chrome, Stiv Bators and Genya Ravan is just too much for me. I am currently 14th out of 102 on the “holds” list through my county library system.
Just over twenty years ago, I made my one and only pilgrimage to this legendary dive in the Bowery. It was my last night in NYC for the New Music Seminar, an adventure that has surfaced on this site before (and probably will again). Here’s my brief description about my visit to CB’s as originally shared in The Stew:
We would be closing out the week at the venerable punk rock club CBGB on Bleecker Street. Everything that we had heard about the famous “hole-in-the-wall” was true. The club was soon celebrating its 2oth anniversary, and the original dust was still on the baseball pennants behind the bar. The bathrooms are literally backstage, and nobody pays any mind to modern concert trappings like security. I was just happy to hang out in the hallowed hall that was the old stomping grounds of The Ramones, Patti Smith, and Richard Hell. I was nearly starstruck too as Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore from Sonic Youth brushed by my barstool on their way out.
Unfortunately the performances on stage that night were not as memorable as the mystique of the room. The bill was made up of bands from the Caroline label. We learned that St. Johnny was average, the Action Swingers have a bad attitude, and Paula Kelley from Hot Rod is not afraid to display affection publicly. Walt Mink, who most everyone was there to see, played at a chest-vibrating volume level that easily surpassed The Fluid as the loudest band that I have ever heard. (This also confirmed reports that the club’s regular soundman is already deaf and would like to inflict that disability on others.) Richmond’s Fudge closed out the night, but by this time it was anticlimactic. The next day we were to head back west.
Sure that’s just a memory snapshot and just one segment of an article about a jam-packed week of live music, and I am sure that I figured I would return to the venue many more times. I can still picture those small dusty baseball pennants on the wall including one featuring the Washington Senators, a team that hadn’t existed for over twenty years. Most of all, though, I think one never forgets the bathrooms, scuzz monuments which are well documented elsewhere. It will be interesting to see if my recollection of the long, claustrophobia-inducing room with the big sound matches up at all with the setting of the film. CBGB was shuttered for good in October 2006.