CBGB the dive, the myth and the legend
Well…It was something like that, anyway.
Back in 1975, there were no crowds waiting outside, and just a handful of people were inside the dark, cramped venue to see Patty Smith. Purple Mohawks, spiked dog collars, Doc Martins, and punk fashion were products of the still-to-come London punk scene, and (besides The Ramones), nobody wore MC jackets, except bikers. The NY Dolls and Iggy never played CBGB, and celebrities like Lou Reed, Warhol, and other scene makers hung out at the far more glamorous Max’s Kansas City, on Park Ave. CBGB’s “Skid Row” Bowery address is not the type of place that attracted legends. Yet ultimately, CBGB’s is the unlikely venue that created legends.
In the 20 years since closing its doors and nearly 50 years since punk rock's 1st explosive wave crested, the legendary CBGB has been written about and romanticized —often by people who weren’t there. Even Hollywood had a crack at mythologizing the legendary dive bar that birthed Punk Rock in the 2012 feature film, “CBGB.” The truth is, even more fantastic than fiction.
Apartments for rent, cheap! NYC’s Lower East Side, circa 1975.
If you don’t get your act together, you’ll end up on the Bowery
If you weren’t around to see for yourself, the NYC of the 1970’s is hard to imagine. Nearing bankruptcy and without federal aid, infrastructure crumbled, garbage piled up on the streets, drug dealers and squatters occupied condemned buildings, and crime ran rampant. Even NYC’s massive subway network was reduced to a rolling graffiti-covered crime spree.
Among the hardest-hit neighborhoods was the traditionally depressed Lower East Side, notorious for its population of addicts, pickpockets, street hustlers, and vagrants, along the Bowley. Along with commercial appliance resellers, the area was littered with flop houses, where “Bowery bums” could rent a chicken-wire cage to sleep in for a dollar or two a night. Unlike a few celebrated tourist areas left in mid-70s Manhattan, the Bowery was about as glamorous as an emergency room. It’s this depressed, broken-down, and dangerous place in time that stood CBGB.
1970’s CBGB -The birth of the Punk Movement
Punk found its first venue when the owner of a little dive on Bowery realized that if he wanted to stay in business, he’d need to attract a crowd other than Bowery bums. Live Country music was the way to do it, reckoned owner Hilly Kristal. With a capacity of only about 300 people, it was too small for touring headliners but just the right size for up-and-coming local acts. In December of 1973, Kristal built a small stage and put up a new awning that read CBGB (short for Country, Bluegrass, and Blues). It was a great idea, but Hilly soon discovered there were not enough local Country acts to fill the calendar. What the low-rent Lower East Side did have in abundance was young, broke artists/musicians and rock bands looking for an outlet. This situation proved to be an explosive and historic combination.
As a country music fan, Hilly was undoubtedly disappointed that his original concept didn’t work out. However, as a practiced multi-instrumentalist, Hilly found it extremely gratifying to help launch any grassroots musical movement. Starting with the wildly original-sounding band “Television” in late ’74, Hilly started booking rock acts, provided they played their own music. The Patty Smith group, Mink DeVille, the Stilettos (W/Debby Harry), the Ramones, Heartbreakers, Tuff Darts, and the Talking Heads (and more) followed, becoming the first wave of bands to play CBGB. Each band had an altogether different sound but shared a few common bonds. It’s these similarities that made them all Punks- A term used and defined first by Leggs McNiel in his underground fanzine of the same name.
Punk is DIY, drunk, obnoxious, smart but not pretentious—an absurd, funny, and ironic mirror of Lower East Side life. A deliberate reaction against boring, complex hippie bands of the 70s and a chaotic search-and-destroy lifestyle, aimed at the status quo.”
~Leggs McNiel, circa 1975.
A Look Inside CBGC
The building at 315 Bowery was constructed in the 1800s and is characteristic of the period. The upper floors were used as tenements, while the ground floor features a 25-foot-wide, 75-foot-deep "shotgun-room" storefront where CBGB’s stood. From the outside, this small storefront blends in with the surrounding area and is easy to overlook unless you are specifically looking for it.
Compared with other noted hot spots known for pioneering new musical movements, like LA’s Whisky a Go-Go or the 100 Club in London, CBGC is decidedly a more intimate (uh, cramped) experience. While those larger, open-layout venues can accommodate around 500 people, CBGB held only about 300 and still felt crowded, even with half that number.
The few small windowpanes facing the street are completely covered with a deep layer of band posters, blocking any natural light. Once inside, it’s dark and dank, with most of the light coming from buzzing, neon signs and a few scattered fluorescent fixtures (and some of them even worked). The 25-foot-wide interior feels even smaller than it looks from the outside. A narrow corridor leading to the stage area is flanked on the left by a raised section with some rickety tables, a pool table crammed in. On the right side, partitions made of raw 2x4s made it nearly impossible to belly up to the bar without taking the long way around or crawling under.
Towards the back, the room opens up a little, and the stage juts out at an angle from the wall to maximize the available space. Looking up, you’ll see about 20 years’ worth of fly corpses dangling from fly traps. Underfoot, loose floorboards flex enough to knock a beer off one of the rickety tables nearby. The stage is similar, with a few soft spots that seemed ready to give way and let the band members crash into the basement. The deeper in you venture, the more comically dilapidated the place becomes.
Hospitality for bands consists of two tiny rooms, directly behind the stage. When a band is onstage, sound levels in those rooms are loud enough to drown out a jackhammer. Without doors (or even a curtain) for privacy, changing clothes (or maybe an amorous embrace) is little more than just another part of the show. If that’s not “punk” enough for ya, CBGB’s world-renowned restrooms are the coup de grace. What made them so… “unique” was their ancient Roman-style sense of “community.” Hilly kept the water running, TP stocked, and the floors mopped, but that’s about it. When the outer doors fell off, they were never replaced. Later on, the stalls around the elevated toilet collapsed, leaving anyone seated at the throne at eye level with anyone walking down the stairs.
Nothing in the place ever got a fresh coat of paint, and every surface was covered in graffiti and stickers. In fact, if you could remove the stickers, posters, and graffiti, one layer at a time, like an archaeologist, you could follow the “fossil record” right back to 1975. The bands and patrons loved the dumpy “punk” atmosphere, and Hilly didn’t seem to mind the lack of cosmetic maintenance. However, Hilly looked after the important stuff. The beer was always cold (even if it took Hilly rolling in a consumer-grade kitchen fridge, in a pinch), and spent money where it mattered most, which made all the difference. Inside the dilapidated-looking mess of a venue was the best sound system in all of Manhattan, and the envy of every venue in the tri-state area.
Above the stage hung 6 huge speaker enclosures and a sub, facing the crowd. A set of monitors flanked the performers from above to maximize room on the tiny stage. The massive speaker array was powered by old-school Altec tube amplifiers (the same kind used to address 250,000 spectators at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway). For 10 bucks, the bands could buy a great-sounding “off the board” cassette of the performance. It was a much better investment than Hilly’s Chili, no matter how hungry you were.
The Late 70s and beyond, The CBGB Legacy
Television, the band that started it all in 1974, performed their last CBGB show in 1976. Before the end of ’78, Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers, The Dammed, Blondie, The Dead Boys, the Ramones, and many of the first wave of CBGB punk bands had imploded, splintered, or moved onto bigger audiences. Numerous new bands with the punk ethos and an expanding sonic approach, including The Cramps, Bad Brains, The Misfits, Elvis Costello, and The Police, came from across the US and abroad to play CB’s. By the 1980’s, the scene evolved as bands like Agnostic Front, Murphy's Law, Sheer Terror, The Nihilistics, Leeway, and tons more exploded out of CBGB with a super-aggressive new Hardcore Punk sound. Throughout the 80s and into the 90s, CBGB’s Hardcore Sunday afternoon matinee shows became the epicenter of the Hardcore scene. Throughout the 90s, CBs continued to host up-and-coming 2nd-generation punk and alternative bands, as well as surprise engagements by legendary acts, including Sum 41, Green Day, The Offspring, Guns N' Roses, and more.
As a legendary source of new music and bands for 30 years, CBGB seemed invincible. However, not even raging Punk can stand in the way of the advancement of NYC real estate. After a 50k-per-month rent increase was implemented, Hilly Kristal had no choice but to shut CBGB’s doors for the last time on October 15th, 2006. Hilly Kristal died one year later, at 75, from lung cancer.
Today, Punk music is played around the globe, from intense, raw, and fast to more generally consumable power-pop styles. Every year, CBGB is celebrated with music festivals around the globe, showcasing original CB’s bands and new talent — and it all started with a few local bands, a snarky fanzine, and one incredible venue where anything could happen and usually did.
