The New York Times ran an item yesterday about the long-discussed future of the name of CBGB, highlighting an ambitious music-festival named after same slated to take place this July, as well as a plan to re-open an identically-christened venue somewhere downtown, replete with all the since-stored trappings and trimmings of the original. While it may sound slightly churlish coming from me (a blogger whose posts come regularly steeped in nostalgia), I'm just not entirely sold on the idea.
While, yes, seemingly all vestiges of the East Village's once-thriving musical character and legacy have gone the way of the stegosaurus, I can't help thinking that naming these new ventures after CBGB is simply an inorganic way of cashing-in. I'm all for bringing rock back downtown, but let's call it something else. In the same way I used to wince at the CBGB gift shop that opened (and then closed) on St. Marks and continue to shake my fist at Daniel Boulud's preposterously named DBGB, I just think we need to leave CBGB where it ended. Let's have more music, yes, but let's call it something new!
Ever the class act, Handsome Dick Manitoba is nicely quoted in the Times article with regards to the new venture. "The people who bought [the rights to CBGB's assets and trademark] are wonderful people," he says, " but to me, the place died with the man." The man being, of course, the late Hilly Kristal.
Thanks to This Ain't the Summer of Love for the heads up and Zombies en el ghetto for the above shot of CBGB circa 1984.
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