R.I.P. CBGB

Well, the world - at least my little part of it - has certainly changed in a big way. After many attempts to save the club, CBGB is closing.

I am really bummed. Not just because this is a legendary music landmark, a New York institution. I am sad for selfish reasons - because so many of my own memories are based there. I can't count how many shows I saw there. Even before I turned 21, I didn't want to drink, I just wanted to see whatever band was playing. And as long as you were 16, they'd let you in. From my favorite band, Material Issue, Liz Phair early in her career, industry showcases, to hardcore shows, queer punk nights, and my own friends' bands. Anyone could play there. Everyone had a shot.

I'm not writing this to romanticize CBGB but I guess that's inevitable. To be honest, the place is gross. I don't know how many roaches have lived long and happy lives there. The bathroom is a true test of stamina. The floor boards are a hazard. What made it great was the music. The stories about The Ramones, Blondie, The Talking Heads, Patti Smith are legendary but before my time. But I have my own memories and experiences that made it special for me regardless of its history.

Even with all my memories of going to shows there, my favorite memory of CBGB is this:

When my teenaged cousin Anthony came out from Vegas to visit, Gaspar and I took him around the city. This kid loves music. LOVES it. Loves the Ramones, all the old punk stuff (stuff that's too hardcore for even Gaspar and I to get into.) So we brought him to CBGB. It was the middle of the day and we couldn't take him to a show but thought we'd take his picture in front of it, mimicking the famous Ramones photo. Then we figured it wouldn't hurt to see if we could go inside. We opened the door and the the guy at the desk, sitting next to Hilly, waved us in without a thought as we were probably the millionth person asking to go in and take a touristy photo inside the place. It was strange to see it in the daytime, with a few actual lights on and complete silence. We walked around and Anthony and I took a photo on the stage together. And even though he tried to conceal his excitement (teenage boy + punk = too cool to smile) he was beaming.

So CBGB will close its doors and join the list of many other NY clubs from my youth that are no more - The Wetlands, The Bottom Line, The Marquee, Brownies, The Ritz, Tramps, and on and on. Patti Smith is playing the final show which is really fitting and a nice ending. Apparently, Hilly is opening a CBGB clothing boutique a few blocks down on Broadway and Bond and reopening CBGB is Vegas. (Now Anthony can go to a show there, but it won't be the same.) But I'm choosing to remember it as it is now, open for business on Bowery.