The Continental is Dead

I already said my formal goodbye to The Continental in February of 2006, when they removed the stage at the rear of the room and stopped hosting live music. I literally never set foot in the place again, after that. Once it reverted into just another shitty East Village bar – the type of venture the neighborhood already had in unwieldy abundance – there really was no reason for my further patronage.

This all said, in the last couple of weeks, the easterly strip of Third Avenue between the corner of St. Marks Place and the Cooper Union dormitory has been effectively razed. The buildings that once housed that McDonald’s, the Continental, St. Marks Pizza (and its many abortive, follow-up concerns) and the vape shop on the corner that used to be an Optimo newspaper shop are all gone for good, soon to be replaced by a massive development that will block out the sun and decmiate any remaining semblance of neighborhood character.

You may remember I posted a pair of “then and now” pics of that strip in recent weeks, which prompted one specific regular reader to typically take me to task for lionizing and lamenting a patch of the East Village the viability of which as a genuine hub of subculture (or whatever) has been long extinguished. I don’t argue with that point, necessarily. It’s been a long, damn while since this strip held fascination for anyone beyond SantaCon participants. This all said, despite its final thirteen years as just another antagonistic douchebag bar, once upon a time, The Continental counted me as a regular.

As laboriously cited elsewhere on this blog, during the 90’s, I was routinely found in attendance at the venue in question for any number of shows by bands like Nashville Pusssy, The Unband (above), The Figs, The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black, The Upper Crust, The Pleasure Fuckers, The Candy Snatchers, Furious George, Falafel Mafia, Iron Prostate, The Niagaras, Mephiskapheles, The Bullys, the criminally short-lived Lee Harvey Keitel Band, and countless others. No, it wasn’t the nicest joint, and the stories of owner Trigger’s thorny eccentricities are myriad and colorful, but as a place to catch bands of a certain variety, it checked all the right boxes and then some.

One of my favorite pictures of my dear friend Rob D. and myself was captured there. We’re depicted downstairs, loitering outside the restrooms while – if memory serves – the Candy Snatchers were dodging projectiles above us. Here’s the photo now. Decorum was not necessarily the order of the moment.

And here’s all that remains of The Continental now.

Comments

[trigger-ed much?]

I wasn't taking you to task, you just have incredibly thin skin and an exaggerated idea of what that mini-strip was. It housed a McDonald's (wow!), a vape shop (whoopee!), a club owned by a dick who barely supported hardcore (despite CBGB and Coney Island High having countless hc shows), and a great pizzeria (RIP SMP.) So why the fuck would I care about Continental being reduced to a pile of rubble? Good riddance.

Sorry I don't see that part of Third Avenue with the same pair of rose-colored glasses as you. I just loved the great big slices at SMP.

[Alex in NYC]

Again with the antagonism. If this blog irritates you so much, why do you continue to visit/read it? Lighten up, Francis.

There is other music beyond hardcore. Just sayin'.

[Jason Lambert]

As someone who grew up in Poughkeepsie, NY I can remember my first trip to the East Village. Walking up to street level at Astor Place from the subway that entrance to St. Marks Place was holy territory for us. This was in the late 80's so even though the area had already lost a lot of charm from what I am told, it was still a whole lot better than today. The shop on the corner was where we would buy the cases of nitrous cartridges on our way out which made us feel like total badasses at the time compared to everyone else upstate that were too hesitant to make the journey at a relatively young age of 14-15.

So much has changed. And I get it that things always change but my memory is mine and I will hold onto it. At least that neighborhood didn't aid in destroying my life as it did a few years later when we found out what was east of Ave. A.