Back to the CBGB Record Canteen

Hey all, just a quick one. I'm actually sequestered out on the `Island for a while with limited computer access, so bear with me.

During my two-month hiatus, my comrade Drew sent me the video below, and I've meant to put up a post about it ever since.

This October will mark the eight-year anniversary of the closing of CBGB at 315 Bowery, a milestone that prompted much gnashing of teeth in many circles (including mine). The shuttering of the fabled rock club, endearingly squalid dive bar and ground zero of Punk Rock has since come to serve as a telling signifier of the transformation of New York City. That its address has since been co-opted by a bespoke clothier only reinforces that. The Bowery is a different place. Downtown is a different place. New York City is a different place. Those are just the facts.

Since CB's demise, the already robust mythology that surrounded it has only flourished (no thanks to a truly abortive film from 2013 about same, but the less said about that, the better). An invocation of a night of CBGB now comes grittily entrenched in the artful imagery of dimly lit urban decay, the insouciant cool of bohemia, the whiff of an anything-goes frontier and the palpable threat of violence. The name conjures up pictures like those found in Bri Hurley's "Making a Scene," a striking photographic document of the New York hardcore community (that's one of her shots above), or like the iconic image below of the No Wave all-stars... portraits of romantic characters existing on the edge of society.

Truth is, of course, not every night at CB's was like that. Not every show at 315 Bowery warranted the punk pageantry. Hell, in its last several years of operation, the booking policy at CBGB really wasn't that adventurous, nor did it attract room-filling big names. Even during its 70's and 80's heyday, some shows at CBGB were just that... shows. No one got stabbed. No one showed up with a mohawk. No cops were punched. It was just another night at one of the city's live music venues.

Below is another clip by Nelson Sullivan, the intrepid videographer I've written about before, who presciently made a point to document as much of his life on video as he could (prior to his untimely death). In this clip, Sullivan attends a record release party at the CBGB Record Canteen (remember that?) for Binky Philips, a somewhat-less-celebrated scene veteran, CB's regular and self-described "also-was." As an event, it's fairly low on thrills, but the video provides a tantalizing glimpse back at the scene circa 1987.

Watch for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo of the cover of Killing Joke's Brighter Than a Thousand Suns amid the record racks.

These days, CBGB is the afore-cited John Varvatos boutique and the space that was the CBGB Record Canteen is now a Patagonia, for all your pricey, outdoorsy gear needs.

Comments

[Jimmy]

I spotted DRI Crossover lp, NY Beat ska comp., New Jersey Got It, NJ punk comp.

[Jeff Jotz]

Alex, I know I've purchased dozens of records at the CBGB record canteen, but the only one I'm sure I bought at that joint was "Academy Fight Song" by Mission of Burma on the Ace of Hearts label. IIRC. I remember that I surprised to find such an influential record there for only $3 or $4.

[Greg]

It seems weird and sad now that they called that space the Pizza Boutique a few years later. Little did they know.

[BKNYCDreamin]

Cool clip - thanks for sharing!

[G]

The guy in the video labeled "Binky Philips" is actually Lenny Kaye.