Old, Fat Rules: A Hostile Crowd at CBGB
"Come on," Jolly I tell Jolly to shut his "But I gotta have something," I calmly explain to Jolly "I’m tired of I look at him with his white-man "Man, I wanna get high!" "Hi," says the "Bro," says Jolly The cabbie either doesn’t "Dude," I say "But I wanna get high!" "Hi," repeats "Buddha," Jolly "Light?" the guys "No," yells Jolly. "Yeah," I chime "Drugs" repeats "Like heroin," "Harem?" asks Just then Holmstrom opened "Hey guys," he "I’m tired of It was the night of the The party had started at Anyway, art shows aren’t I arrived at CB’s around Anyway, as his band gets Sometime later I find myself Then I drink some more, As I’m getting more Anyway, these punk rockers So I start getting pissed. A lot more bands play, including Stevie and I get on stage Michael, our drummer, borrows "It’s great to The audience is not impressed. We do our second and third As we’re about to start Now I start to feel more "I’m not gonna The audience tells me I "Fuck you you bunch "Fuck you!" the "Fuck me?" I yell. People start to spit at "You know something?" More bottles and spit. "And I’m glad The booing starts, and the "Shut up," I tell I then go on to tell the "But look at you now," The crowd now turns from Just the way I like it. "Fuck you, George Tabb. "Fuck you, bitch!" "Shut up you asshole," "I’ll shut your I get a few laughs, but So we play a few more songs, "You know something?" "What did you just "I said I’m banging At that point I think it A look of stunned amusement He had once told me that Speaking of punk rock, "My loneliness is killing The X-Possibles have a new Another female-fronted band The Negatives’ We Meat Depressed is a great Piss Ant is a band from The LawnDarts’ new The Offspring’s new Ringmaster’s Ringmaster The Vandals just rereleased Ms. Spears is developing I got two self-released Sick Of It All recently The Sun Demons’ self-titled Lastly, I got the new Cocksparrer You can get the 25th Anniversary "I’m not that
says to the cabdriver with the turban on his head, "ya gotta have something."
mouth. We wait in the cab for Holmstrom to buy some beer in the store on the
corner of Worth and Broadway.
whines Jolly, who used to be "The Resident Punk" at Punk, "anything
at all!"
that John Holmstrom, the editor of Punk and our pal, is in the process
of buying us beer so we can get more fucked up.
beer," yells Jolly. "You just drink it and drink it and you get drunk
and it’s boring."
afro right out of the 70s, and wonder if there is any gray matter left beneath
it.
says Jolly.
cabbie to Jolly.
to the cabbie, "you gotta get me fucked up. You got any pot, bro? Come
on, bro, some marijuana. Weed. You know, pot?"
understand Jolly or is ignoring him. I’d like to think it was the latter.
to the Resident Punk, "I can see Holmstrom in there now buying chips and
shit to go along with the beer. Chill."
yells Jolly.
the cabbie.
says to the cabbie, "you got to have something. You have to enlighten us."
says from the front seat as he turns on the cab’s interior lights.
"Something to fuck us up. Drugs."
in, figuring the conversation couldn’t get any stupider, and I was bored
of waiting for Holmstrom.
Jolly.
I say.
the driver. "I like harem. Girls. Yes."
the back left door near Jolly and slid in with a case of beer.
says to us, "I got the beer."
beer," says Jolly.
25th anniversary party for Punk at CBGB, and just as with my wacky cab
ride later that evening, the preceding events were stupid, repetitive and funny.
six at CBGB’s 313 Gallery, where artists like Roberta Bayley, Bob Gruen,
Niagara and Holmstrom had hung their work. I, of course, missed the art opening,
as it’s really not my thing. Besides, Temptation Island was on,
as well as a really good Lifetime movie where this woman goes crazy and kills
her cheating husband and then gets put on trial and loses custody of her kid.
Or was it the kid who killed the father and the mother covered it up?
my thing. I knew there would be lots of "punk celebrity" types there,
but those people drive me nuts. And that’s probably why I did what I did
when my band Furious George played our set that night.
9:15. In time to catch the end of Charm School, one of my favorite local bands.
Following them were Napalm Stars, which feature my friend, Tim Steigal, who,
when he talks, which is 24/7, sounds like Tennessee Tuxedo and Jello Biafra
on speed. He’s really funny. For a glam rock pussy, that is.
on stage with some sissy from Hanoi Rocks, my bass player Stevie and I start
to get really wasted. We drink a couple of shots of Cuervo and follow them up
with a few bottles of Rolling Rock.
in the basement of the club, which, in the last decade or so, has become its
own sort of swinging lounge. There I find Hilly Kristal, owner of CBGB World.
Hilly is talking to some hot chick who turns out to be Elda from the Stilettos.
I tell her she was my teenage crush, which is true, and that she still looks
the same. Which is also true.
go upstairs and see Holmstrom pied in the face by some ECW wrestlers. Return
to the basement, where I proceed to get really wasted on some drugs some guys
and girls give me.
and more fucked up, I start running into a lot of punk rockers I recognize from
"the old days." I mean the old days. Like the Ramones’
third album days.
all look, well, old. The men have beer bellies and are balding, and the women,
well, look tired. And I bet they all live in the burbs and drive those ugly
Jeep things.
I mean, what happened? These people now look like the same old hippies we made
fun of at Dead Boys shows.
the all-mighty Thor and the Dictators, as well as Niagara, who, not just in
my opinion, shoulda worn some more clothes. Then Furious George is up.
and I wonder who is the more fucked-up. The kid did drink a lot, but I think
I have him beat because of the drugs. But he does plug his bass into a guitar
amp and then yells and screams that it doesn’t sound right, so maybe he
was higher. Then again, he is a bass player…
some drum shit from another band because I forgot to tell him to bring his cymbals
and snare, and finally we’re ready to play.
be here at the 25th Anniversary of Maximumrocknroll!" I say as the
audience of old punk rockers just stare at us. I introduce our guest bass player
for our first song, "Sonic Reducer"–none other than Jeff Magnum
from the Dead Boys. I put Evan, my old bass player, on guitar and I take off
my shirt and sing.
Even though I shaved my chest for the event. A few people clap, but most just
choose to ignore us and talk about how they were so cool back in the day.
songs with our regular lineup and a few more people clap, but no one really
seems to be paying attention. Except the guy with the mohawk and his girlfriend
up front. The guy looks to be a little older than 20, and his chick, well, she’s
wearing leather pants and a leather shirt, and from the right angle (above her,
which I was) I could see her breasts. Nice. How you doin’?
our next song, someone yells we suck. I say some smartass remark back, and more
people start yelling we suck.
at home. I hurl a few more insults and hear Sticka, the stage manager, telling
me to shut up and play.
shut up and play," I say into the mic.
should.
of fucking hippie pussies," I yell.
audience yells back.
"Fuck you. I’m still up here playing. What are any of you doing? Driving
your kids around to soccer practice in your Volvos? Getting drunk and watching
golf?"
me and a few bottles are thrown. I’m hit in the leg and it hurts.
I begin to feel the devil horns sprouting from my bleached head. "Back
in the day–you know, when you were all oh-so-popular–none of you paid
any attention to me. And certainly none of you fucked me."
you didn’t fuck me," I continue, "because you were skanky then,
and you’re just as skanky now."
mohawked kid gets all offended, as does his girlfriend.
the both of them. "You were just sperm when this was going on."
crowd that I was cute "back in the day" and that the girls should
have fucked me, and the guys should have been nice to me instead of beating
me up on a constant basis.
I say to the audience. "Your pussies all stink like cat vomit, your tits
sag to your knees and you guys couldn’t even get it up with Viagra!"
pleasantly not-amused to downright hostile.
You’re old and fat!" I hear some chick yell.
I yell back.
she snaps.
asshole up with my 10-inch cock," I tell her. "I’ll stick it
so far up your ass it will tickle your tonsils."
mostly spit.
and then I start in again.
I say. "I don’t need your tired pussies, or your punk rock pity. I’m
fucking your daughters."
say?" yells some old punk rock chick with dyed black hair near the bar.
your kids. I’m eating up their nubile nectar and taking them from behind
better than their daddies ever could!"
all degenerated into hell. But I’m not sure. All I remember is after our
last song, when we went to the back of the stage, Legs McNeil, the Resident
Punk at Punk before Jolly, gave me a look.
and wonder.
punk rock was dead. I think maybe, just maybe, he changed his mind.
the new Insane Clown Possee CD Bizaar on Island Def Jam Music Group…
isn’t. I don’t know what it is. But it sure does suck. Hopefully Eminem
will smoke their asses. Word?
me…" Sorry. Britney Spears attack. Arrgh.
self-released CD with tunes like "March of the Body Snatchers" and
"Speedy Delivery." Their singer, Tibbie X, is really hot, and when
I recently saw them play at CBGB I had a hard time keeping my stretch jeans
from ripping, budda-bing, ya know what I mean? Anyway, they sure are punk, playing
fast, loud and really snotty. It’s actually quite a treat to hear a band
like them in this day and age of Limp Bizkit.
I saw recently, who also released their own CD, is Daddy. I saw them play at
Don Hill’s and the singer is hot. She also likes to get undressed in public
a lot. Which is fine by me. Her name is Laurel, and when she sings it kinda
sounds like operatic punk/metal. Cool if you dig that kinda stuff. But her being
naked is enough for me.
Rock–You Don’t self-released CD is fucking dope. I mean, these
guys sound like Iggy meets the Dead Boys meets Black Flag. And to top it all
off, they come from Baltimore. Great stuff.
name for a band. And their new CD, Deface the Nation on Good Cop/Bad
Cop Records, is pretty darn swell. These guys also played the Punk party
and did a kick-ass Ramones medley. On this CD are tunes like "It’s
Time to Fuck," "I Can’t Hear You (La La La La)" and "Mad
at the World." I later partied with these guys along with Jolly and Holmstrom,
and, man, are they funny. But they’re from Massachusetts. So they can’t
be that funny.
Los Angeles. The singer chick gave me a tape and they rock pretty hard in that
old-school punk sort of way. And she’s got huge boobies, and isn’t
afraid to show them off. Woo-hoo!
CD Volume 2 on Lawndarts Records is mucho fun. With loud guitars a la
Lemmy and Johnny Ramone, screaming vocals and really catchy riffs, this disc
will probably do real well with the kids. Songs like "My Girlfriend’s
Got a Gun" and "Misery" are right up my alley. I like these guys,
and if you don’t, well, I’ll get my friend Allyson to beat you up.
CD, Conspiracy of One on Columbia, is boring.
in Camouflage, a self-released CD, is pretty swell, but nothing like their
live show. Their guitarist, who wears red leather pants and listens to Rush
and Foghat, can really play a mean lead, while the singer, well, I really do
love her outfits. You go, girl.
Oi to the World, their collection of Christmas tunes that are just too
fucking funny, on Kung Fu Records. Tell me that "Hang Myself from the Tree,"
"Oi to the World," "Christmas Time for My Penis" and "My
First Christmas (As a Woman)" aren’t brilliant song titles. The music
is punky cool, and the lyrics, well, I’m jealous!
quite a nice little body, huh? "You drive me craaaazzzzy!"
CDs from a girl named Stephanie St. John. While her name could be that of a
wonderful porno star, alas, her bands, Stephanie & the Band of Davids and
The David First Project, are kinda just plain ol’ Alanis Morrisette and
P.J. Harvey sort of stuff. Why she sent them to me, I’ll never know.
released their zillionth album, this one called Yours Truly on Fat Wreck
Chords. Real New York hardcore here. No pussy music. And these guys are badasses.
Even if I didn’t like this CD, I would still say it rocks, ’cause,
well, I’m that kind of guy. Plus, their song "Hello Pricks" is
the bizzbomb. Bizzbomb. I heard that word recently. Don’t know what it
means, but I like the sound of it. Kinda rolls off the tongue. Bizzbomb. Ooooh,
that tickles.
CD on Smart Money Records rocks. Period. In fact, their first song is "Mighty
Rock." And their singer is good old Jolly Prochnik. Resident Punk. I wonder
if he ever found some pot.
CD, Cocksparrer Live, on Ringside Records. This band of skinheads has
been around quite a while, and don’t you just love the fact that not only
do they look like big penises, but they have "cock" in the band name?
Issue of Punk at CBGB or at See Hear. Just telling you.
innocent." God, and that gold outfit she wears? Bizzbomb!
