To be honest, the fabled men’s room of CBGB has become a clichéd distraction, an incidental bit of filthy folklore that now threatens to overshadow everything else about the venue. By the same token, in 2016, what about the oft-repeated mythology of CBGB hasn’t become the stuff of cliché?
First and foremost, yes -- the facilities at CBGB were a joke, but -– pray, tell -– what exactly had you been expecting? Pristinely varnished marble? Shining silver taps? Shimmering porcelain bidets? No -– the bathroom was essentially in the same state of wanton dereliction as the rest of the venue. Big deal.
And, really, as long as all you wanted to do was take a leak, who really cared? I mean, if your needs were more complicated than that, then you might indeed have a problem, but I’ve never understood folks who … y’know … didn’t’ take care of that stuff before they stepped out for the evening. I realize that when ya gotta go, ya gotta go, but really? Ya wanna do that here?
As is now the stuff of lurid legend, many evidently felt that the narrow chamber in question was better suited to copulation than defection, but even that fanciful scenario begs several logistical questions. But, resourceful minds prevail and needs must, I guess.
In my distant youth, I do remember using the CB’s men’s room a couple of times, but never for anything other than its initial design and intent. Nor, for that matter, did I ever encounter anyone doing anything in same that seemed especially out of left field (like, say, the Cramps trying to murder anyone). I’ve heard stories about Debbie Harry doing this down there or Richard Hell doing that, but by the time I first attended a gig there in the mid-to-late 80s (shortly after the Monica Dee photo up top of members of Kentucky’s Squirrel Bait was taken for SPIN in 1986), I believe the notoriety of the bathroom had already precluded anything notably extracurricular from occurring.
So, why am I talking about this now? Well, a regular reader named Richard Moody came across the video below and rightly assumed it would be something I’d have a thing or two to say about. Shot in 2006, just shortly before the club was closed and gutted, here’s an in-depth, video exploration of the men’s room in question. As detailed as the clip is, however, it should be noted that it’s missing a crucial ingredient in that it lacks the olfactory part of the experience.
Today, of course, the space that had been CBGB –- 315 Bowery -– is now a John Varvatos boutique. I’ve only stepped into that bespoke haberdashery a couple of times, but have never ventured downstairs -- nor do I know if you’re even allowed to. If memory serves, the Metropolitan Museum presented a replica of the CB’s men’s room for their otherwise anemic show about Punk fashion some years back, and I want to say I read about the actual facilities being preserved for posterity somewhere, which strikes me as pretty ridiculous.
Personally speaking, I remember the restrooms at the Limelight and the Tunnel to be much dicier affairs. Which was your favorite?
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