Hey again, all. Sorry for the relative slowdown in activity here. Without delving too deeply into it, I've been having to iron out an unwieldy pile of vocational logistics recently, which hasn't left me lots of time to attend to my normal routine of tirelessly posting largely meaningless bits of fluff, trivia and bile here on the good ship Flaming Pablum. Been hit with a bit of a torpedo and am trying to remain sea-worthy, so to speak. Once ballast is restored, you can bet the flow of content will resume its regularly robust gush, but until such time, posts may come fewer and further between. Apologies. C'est la guerre.
In any case, I stumbled across the video below on YouTube not too long back, and it conjured in me the same impetus to post as inspired my relatively recent entry about the Ukrainian National Home. I never actually got to go to Great Gildersleeve's, but I remember hearing its name bandied about. Many people forget that CBGB wasn't the only club on the Bowery back in the day. Great Gildersleeve's stood a couple of blocks to the north of CB's at 331 Bowery. Don't bother looking for any plaque or anything there now -- any evidence of its existence has long been wiped clean. But in its brief window of operation, the club played host to a clutch of noteworthy artists ranging from (again) Elvis Costello through luminaries like the Circle Jerks, Black Flag, the nascent Beastie Boys and ... er... The J. Geils Band. Sadly, I can't say I ever darkened its door. I did manage to visit many a venue of the era -- from CB's though Danceteria and beyond -- but I never made it to Great Gildersleeve's. And now it's (long, long) gone.
Arguably, the most famous performance at the club came courtesy of a then still-fledgling incarnation of Public Image Ltd. (with Martin Atkins on drums). I wouldn't get to witness Public Image Ltd. live until about 1986 at the Palladium (with Lu Edmonds and John McGeogh sharing guitar duties). The PiL that played Great Gildersleeve's was essentially an entirely different beast. To walk past 331 Bowery today, you'd never known it would have played host to such a gaggle.
If you're at all interested, here's a ridiculously better-researched piece on the club. And below is a clip from PiL's brief stint there just over thirty (!!!!) years ago. Play it loud.