Dive In

It's almost become a cliche to even have to point out the fact that CBGB's has been an institution not only of New York City and their music scene, but as a beacon point for bands and other venues around the country that have popped up since.

We can thank Hilly Kristal for that. He passed away on Tuesday at age 75. Kristal is proof that punk rock can and indeed did live on, but this entry is less about his impressive life and more about the general drive and motivation this man had towards his venue and the ghosts of bands who've graced the stage.

I spent a summer in New York City, spending most of my evenings after work doing the grand tour of all the great NYC venues: Webster Hall, Irving Plaza, Knitting Factory, Bowery Ballroom, Nokia Theatre, etc. So what was it about this venue, this relatively small venue that just so happens to be where you turn a corner off of of the 6 train stop, that made it a huge staple of the scene? Unfortunately, I wasn't born until 1986, so the odds were kind of against me as far as being involved in the original punk rock scene, but there was an eerie aura around the building, even against the chaos of the city. During my summer there I was determined to go to a show there, as it had already been announced that it would be moving to Las Vegas the following September. I forced myself to go to a ska show (yeah, I know) near the end of my stay there. Inside it looked no different than any other hole in the wall club here in Phoenix. Its walls were covered in stickers and probably sexually transmitted diseases. It's stage was high and narrow and its backstage extended awkwardly far back and accessible enough that I popped back to grab a few shots. I didn't go into the bathrooms, but use your imagination. The acoustics were awkward and the lighting so so, it just seemed like a place where you'd see any high school local band play on a Wednesday night to their parents and a handful of classmates. It was a dive, plain and simple.

But more than just its appearance was what it meant to these bands, not only the building itself but Hilly and whoever was involved in booking and taking care of bands such as Blondie, The Ramones and Patti Smith. It was obvious that this venue was created out of love, and sustained as long as it did because of the people who supported it. Our music scene in Arizona is still pretty young, going on a rollercoaster of momentum for a while now, changing bands and trends and more importantly : venues. Currently we have quite a few to choose from, a few 3000-4000 person venues, a couple 400-600 and a handful of 100-250 capacity art galleries and venues throughout the Valley, not to mention the arenas and concert pavilions. In the grand scheme of the music scene, things are really good right now and if you have the means and a good enough bill, you can put on a successful show at a decent venue. However, when I talk to people who have been around for a while, at least within the last 10 years, everyone keeps bringing up how much they miss The Nile. The Nile was a venue in Mesa that held around 1,000 people in their main room and as far as notoriety and ambiance, could be called the CBGB's of Phoenix. Jimmy Eat World even asked if anyone had seen them there at their last show. I get starry eyed just thinking about the nights where we'd round the Loop 202 and wait in line several hours before the show began to get prime spots and spend the night transferring between the floor and drinking water out of the sinks in the bathroom (you try going to a concert in AZ) It had stickers on the walls, the stage was too high an the acoustics were terrible, but The Nile gave a home to local bands and national bands that made it big, made contacts within the venue to make other bands to make it big, and was our very own beacon point and institution.

Aside from the lights and glare of all the hype with a place like The Nile and especially CBGB's, you just have to step back and look at it as more than just a room and a soundboard. The Ramones, Blondie, Patti Smith and Jimmy Eat World were all local bands once too, and they had the opportunity to play there. It may be a drag to see a band in an art gallery now, but maybe 35 years from now, people will still be talking about it and the impact it had . . . and how much the sound sucks.

Song of the Moment: Head Home - Midlake