A FEW WORDS FROM SAL VEGA ON THE CLOSING OF CBGB

What Remains is Future?

Taking Joey's Toilet to Glitter Gulch.

“What remains is future”. Pattie Smith left a sold out audience with these few words on the final night at CBGB. Since then I have been reading and pondering the many tributes to CBGB that packed message boards across the web. It is unfortunate that a place of such rock and roll history should come to an end; however, this is nothing new. As recently as last month, The Continental on 3rd Ave closed its doors to live music. Though not quite the monolith to punk rock that CBGB was, it still held a place in the hearts of the rock and roll misfits who passed through its doors. The Continental has since reopened, minus the live music. Though it would seem that with the addition of the all night happy hour, they are attempting to cater to the needs of the binge drinking NYU students that clog the lower east side these days. Two years ago, The Bottom Line (1974-2004) in the West Village, was forced to close their doors by the very institute that supplies those binge drinkers to the Continental. Other clubs including, Brownies, the Fez, and Coney Island High, as well as a couple of famous eateries on the lower East side have been forced to close their doors due to financial pressures. Many in the surrounding neighborhoods lament the closing of the 2nd Ave Deli (1954- 2006) and more significantly Ratners Delicatessen on Delancey, which opened its doors to an emerging Jewish community in 1905.

Like I said, the closing of CBGB is nothing new. It is just another victim of the gentrification of NYC. Gentrification is a four letter word believed to be introduced by the former mayor, Rudy Gullianni. Instead, the truth be told, gentrification is as much a part of NYC as is the skyline it created. For example, on the same street where CBGB currently resides, the Bowery Theatre opened in 1826, and would soon become the NYC home to populist and Minstrel Theater. As the city continued its growth further north, the wealth went with it. Many writers and performers soon followed, moving to the newer more elaborate theaters in Union Square, then Madison Square, and finally Times Square. (Not at all unlike the CBGB bands of the 70’s, who found greener pastures in midtown clubs, and beyond the city limits.) By the late19th century, the many theaters that were scattered about the Bowery began closing as hard times fell upon the neighborhood. The Bowery Theatre however, remained open presenting a hodgepodge of variety, freak shows and ethnic melodrama, aimed at middle class audiences. For over 100 years, the Bowery Theatre made the lower east side its home, surviving five fires, class warfare, and the ever changing face of the city. In 1929, the theater was gutted and sold off to developers. The Bowery Theatre was a landmark location that helped to introduce new and exciting art forms to a burgeoning city. New York is better for it. On a side note, the Bowery Theatre opened October 22, 1826 with a production of The Road to Ruin. Gabba Gabba hey!

This brings me back to the blogs and stories concerning the closing of CBGB. In my reading, I came across two quotes that put some perspective on the situation. In a Village Voice article from March 1, 2005, Chinatown historian Peter Kwong said “if you say you want to maintain culture, when people can’t afford to live here, then you are basically talking about this being a museum or a tourist shop” Well, hadn‘t CBGB become just that? It was a place where Hilly Kristal could hawk his wares bearing the now famous logo emblazoned on t-shirts, hats, socks, shower curtains, you name it. The CBGB that we all came to New York to see was long gone. What was left was a working museum that housed a highly successful tourist shop. Filling the club with bands… that was easy. Who didn’t want to say “yeah, I played CBGB”? Hell, I did. When Angry Johnny and the Killbillies played CBGB in April of this year I half expected the ghost of Jerry Nolan to enter my body, take my sticks, and finish the set. Well, that was silly. What on earth would Jerry Nolan, or for that matter, Dee Dee Ramone or Johnny Thunders be doing in a museum? Most likely, they would be in Brooklyn, though I wish that weren’t so.

The second quote, from the same Village Voice story, came from a source I would have never expected. "The whole Lower East Side is changing, that new building across the street from me—people say it's so ugly, but I think it's a nice modern place. A lot of this neighborhood could be nicer and cleaner. So things are gone, places are gone. You want old stuff? Go to Europe. This is New York." Hilly Kristal, (2005)
Is Hilly Kristal in favor of the gentrification of the neighborhood that made him a wealthy man? His wealth did not come from the Ramones or the Talking Heads directly, but from the idea of these bands and the history they made at CBGB. Yes, Hilly Kristal deserves our gratitude for everything he did to help foster punk rock. For that I say thank you. You are part of the history you helped create, and you are entitled to the spoils. Still, the story is over now. A sequel would only cheapen the legacy. Hilly Kristal intends to take this idea of CBGB to LasVegas in hopes that the wealth will follow. He also intends to bring the bar, the stage, even the toilet that Joey Ramone pissed in. Sounds to me like a another museum, in a city where tourists drop more money these days on trinkets in tourist shops then they do on the tables at Caesars.

So, now I know that CBGB is history like so many places before. It was a major player in a minor scene some thirty years ago. To some of us, it is an important time and sound that helped to shape the way we think, and who we are today without ever having been there. Oh, I have been to CBGB…the building, many, many times, but the real CBGB is not at 315 Bowery anymore. And it ain’t going to Vegas with Hilly.