The Manhattan club scene - in fact, the club scene of any city, really - is highly volatile. Clubs come and go, depending on real estate, the political climate, and a long list of other random factors. It's not an easy business to be in, and in most cases, it's a pretty thankless one.
But what's hitting everyone hard today is the confirmation of the rumor that CBGB's (which, believe it or not, is actually a club, and not a t-shirt brand, you mall punk morons) may be priced out of its current location within the year.
From this week's Village Voice:
It used to be a lot simpler. When Hilly Krystal started CBGB almost 32 years ago, its monthly rent was $600. But CB's gradually made the Bowery chic, and new ground-floor space on the legendary punk club's street now rents for around $55 per square foot. Krystal's third lease ends this August; a new lease would cost him somewhere between $38,000 and $40,000 a month, in addition to the almost $80,000 a year he pays for liability insurance.
"I pay approximately $20,000 a month now—I can't pay $40,000," Krystal says. "I can't run the club at a deficit. We'd have to charge a lot more for drinks, we'd have to charge a lot more for admission, and I don't know if it's worth it to people. If it's gone, I don't see that anybody's going to replace it. We're not a big moneymaking machine." He's thinking about trying to continue, but also thinking about going elsewhere: "I know some people want me to put CBGB in New Jersey, and some people in L.A. want me to move out there."
Considering the strength of Jesse Malin's rant against NYU and their Palladium Residence Hall (which of course replaced the late, great Palladium Theater, formerly the Academy of Music - the stage of which held just about anyone who mattered for so many years), I hope I don't have to hear him tirade against the loss of CBGB. Yes, these days they make more money selling merch than anything else. Yes, it's very rare, and usually a special occasion, when there's a show there I want to see. But it is still CBGB's.
Last winter, before I'd moved back home (and before I knew that I would in less than a year), I was home for Christmas, and went down to Joey Ramone Place with some friends to take photos. As we were posing, a mother and son (couldn't have been more than 15 or 16) arrived to do the same thing. While waiting for us, the mother wandered south on Bowery a little bit, and then rushed back, excitedly telling her son: "CBGB's is right over here!" His face lit up and he went running down there with her. Our thought was: "There is still hope for this generation."
It is a landmark that helped launch a revolution; CBGB are call letters that are recognizable everywhere on this planet. When I was growing up in Connecticut and dreaming of the day I could go see shows in New York, it was at CB's (and Max's, of course, but that scared me; I knew I could get into CB's) that I dreamed about. I don't know that it can or should be landmarked or protected, but I do know that the day it no longer exists will cause a permanent hole in my heart. Hilly can relocate to wherever he likes, but it will never, ever be the same. The end of CBGB's will be the end of an era.
But on the other hand, Max's Kansas City is now a Korean deli. Folk City is just some random bar. The Bottom Line lost its lease. I was glad that I missed the decline of Maxwell's. Coney Island High, Club 82, Hurrah's, Danceteria, Limelight - the list could take up another paragraph, and if I added in the clubs lost in LA, Chicago, Boston, Seattle, or any other city with a vital music scene, it could take up a page. The disappearance of these clubs, while unfortunate, has not stopped new bands from finding a place to play and make their mark, and has not stopped the creation of new music. We lose a bit of history and a lot of nostalgia when landmark, legendary venues go under, but as long as there are boys and girls who wanna be rockstars, we will never lose the music.
Posted by clr at February 16, 2005 08:31 PM | TrackBackWell said, sistahfriend.
Man, don't even get me started about DC. The Bayou (where I once saw Bruce jump onstage, and where I first saw Joe Ely and Robert Gordon--in the same week!--and so many others), Desperado's (Nils Lofgren's band Grin was practically the house band), The Cellar Door, The (original) 9:30 Club (can you believe some kid asked me how it got that name? I had to explain that 930 F Street NW was its original address..sigh--it's a brand name now), Clyde's (yeah, they used to have music--you know, the place where Gram Parsons discovered Emmylou Harris), The Howard Theater, where Duke Ellington performed his magic for the hometown folks...And lest we forget DC Space (home to all the Dischord bands) and Twist and Shout (well, that was Bethesda, but close enough).
DC proper doesn't even have a small to midsize "general audience" music venue anymore--most up and comings are relegated to the hipper-than-thou Black Cat (indie rock duds required) or exiled across the Potomac to IOTA (latest copy of No Depression required for entry...well almost). And believe me, there is NO audience crossover between these two clubs (well, very little). Oh and let's not discuss how all the go-go music venues are being closed down for "safety reasons"...
Sigh. Well I guess there's always--gasp--D.A.R. Constitution Hall. Yeah I wanna see a rock show in the place that banned Marian Anderson...
end of rant. :)