"This ain't no Mud Club, or CBGB, I ain't
got time for that now."

– Talking Heads, "Life During Wartime"

Though there is still a blitzkrieg of all-star-benefit gigs to go, let me publicly predict the outcome of said last-ditch efforts to save CBGB, the Bowery's birthplace of punk – and home to pogo originators the Ramones, Blondie, Talking Heads and Patti Smith as well as modern noise makers D-Generation, the Toilet Boys and my favorite NYC glamour pusses Detox Darlings.

Shrine in front of CBGB after Joey Ramone's death. April 2001. Photo by Spyder Darling © NYRock.com

Despite worldwide awareness and a cavalcade of outraged rock celebrities including Little Steven Van Zandt, Debbie Harry and Tommy Ramone, CBGB's fate is as certain as death, taxes and subway-fare increases. For those not in the know, who must have been on a serious Nyquil nod since winter, the impending shuttering is due to owner Hilly Kristal's failure to pay nearly $100k in back rent and professed inability to come up with a projected increase from 19 to 40k per month. And man, that's a lot of Pabst Blue Ribbons.

So most likely, Labor Day weekend will usher in not only the end of the long, hot, sweating, disgusting summer of 2005 but also toll the bell for New York City rock'n'roll as we know it. Not to mention the best sound system in town.

And why the Hell not? Though Jackie, Judy, Sheena and all the little punk rock chicks the Ramones used to sing about will be sad to see CBGB go, for years now and for various social, economic and political reasons, the club's events have been expensive (by cheap-ass punk-rock standards), and poorly attended affairs staffed by dour door and sound personel with heart rates barely faster than the late Joey Ramone.

So of course attendance is down. Picasso couldn't draw under these conditions. Combine high-speed internet, 1000 channel cable TV, unlimited cell-phone calling plans, NYC Mayor Bloomberg's ban on smoking in bars and CBGB's penchant for booking overcrowded lineups of bands with no discernable theme and it's a wonder CBGB can bring in enough punk-rock rubes to cover the electric bill, much less five-figure rent. Furthermore, there's no sense trying to cut corners by eliminating janitorial services. The club already boasts the scariest bathroom this side of the Bates Motel.

And even if Hilly and his landlord, the Bowery Residence Committee, can come to an agreement to keep CBGB in business, how long will it be before local scene makers slip back into their usual too-bored-to-live, too-cool-to-die attitude and bemoan that things ain't like they used to be? About as long as it used to take Dee Dee Ramone to count off 1-2-3-4. One thing is for sure, cretins wanna complain some more.

Speaking of the Ramones, former drummer/producer Tommy Ramone told the New York Daily News recently, "CBGB is the last real rock-n-roll club. There's nothing like it left in the world."

What can ya do Tommy? Aside from beating on the brats at the Bowery Residence Committee, the Continental is still open a few blocks uptown and hosting both eardrum-blasting upstarts and punk-rock survivors like Cheetah Chrome, Sylvain Sylvain, Walter Lure, and ex-Dictator "Handsome" Dick Manitoba. Twas debonair Dick in his trademark ski cap (in July no less!) who summed up the CBGB situation best onstage one recent Saturday night at Continental, "At least this joint is still open."