I often lament that I don't have a Wayback Machine. So many amazing shows happened before I ventured out into the world. I caught some good ones in Michigan, and eventually some great ones after I escaped to New York, but I would jump in that baby in a second and revisit the legends I love.
CBGBs has a unique place in the hearts of music fans. The home to the Ramones, Patti Smith, Television, the Talking Heads and numerous other bands that changed music (and the music biz) forever. How I wish I could go see the Ramones, playing their three chord songs, back in the mid Seventies, in gritty, decaying and bankrupt NYC.
I made my first journey to NYC when I was nearly 20 years old, in March of 1988. CBGBs was at the top of my list. I just wanted to see it. I didn't even care if I saw a show there. I beheld the fabled club as I strolled down Bleecker Street with my boyfriend of the time, and grabbed my camera. There it was, in all its shabby glory. And now it and the man who made it all possible are gone.
My friend Scott was part of a gallery exhibition that sought to raise money for CBs a few years back when it had hit hard times. NYC rents were raging out of control, and venue after venue was either moving across the river to Brooklyn, or disappearing from the city altogether. I never for a moment imagined that CBs could fail. I was confident the fundraiser would do the trick, and the club would be around for another 30 years.
I hung out with my friends for a while, checking out photos and drinking cheap wine. When I had a good buzz on, I decided to buy a book of photos from the club and went up to Hilly to thank him for keeping it alive all those years. I told him my story, about how a 19 year old kid from the bowels of rural Michigan could hardly wait until I got to see the place. He laughed. After all that time, it still amazed him what his creation had meant to people. He autographed my book and shook my hand.
I heard today that he died from lung cancer two days ago. Thank you Hilly. I will always love CBGBs, what it was and what it represented, and the music you helped to unleash upon the world.
