August 31, 1986
It was just a few days before we were due to go into the 10th grade. We were 15. Phil and I had a tiny, little scrap of paper with crude directions scribbled down by his older brother. They were from the 9th Street Path station to 315 Bowery. CBGB.
I had known Phil for three years and during that time we had our ups and downs. We'd had fights, grew apart, and came back together again. I think when we realized that we were the only two kids in our school that liked hardcore music that even if we didn't want to be friends, we had no one else.
Initially, I had gotten into bands like Black Flag, The Clash, The Dead Kennedys, and The Sex Pistols because they were the most accessible. Even the local mom and pop music shop carried their records. And though I had two older brothers and an older sister who were into bands like Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, and Iron Maiden and had influenced my taste somewhat, this was my music. Phil's older brother, on the other hand, was in a punk band. He made us a compilation tape that changed our worlds completely. It had real underground bands on it. Ones you didn't see on MTV. The Cramps, Husker Du, The Replacements, Suicidal Tendencies. This one tape became our bible. We learned every word of every song on it.
Each Thursday night we'd listen to the only show on the radio that mattered, Upsala College's tiny, little station, 91.1 WFMU. From 7 to 9pm Pat Duncan played the best hardcore from around the country. At the end of the night Pat would announce all of the local upcoming bands playing that week. We just had to see what it was like to be there ourselves.
Neither of us knew our way around NYC. I had gone in a few times with my parents, but never paid attention to where we were going or how we got there. I had only ever gone in on my own once before. But Phil had this piece of paper and we had a goal. CBs or bust.
I remember coming off of the train and into the street. 9th St and 6th Ave. The smell of Bella Pizza, gone now, unfortunately. It was the first time I had ever had a real New York slice. I remember the taste. How crisp the crust was, how gooey the cheese, and how they sliced the sausage topping. One piece was a meal in itself. And back then for two bucks it had better be.
After studying the map carefully we got our bearings and headed up 9th Street, hung a right on 4th Ave, past Cooper Union, and down the Bowery. The Bowery had a reputation for it's homeless population and I can assure you it was well earned. The Bowery today is nothing like it was in 1986. On every corner there were countless bums, some asking for hand outs, others passed out completely. There was trash everywhere and on a warm, late summer day the smell was awful.
About the time we hit Houston we realized that we had gone too far. Phil wanted to test his cool so we stopped off in a bodega and he bought a beer. As we walked back up the Bowery it was hard to miss it this time. A crowd had begun to gather for the show. We sat out front for a while and were in awe of the other kids. These were honest to goodness real punks. Not like us suburbanite wanna-bes. A cute girl approached us and gave us each a fanzine. It was on real nice paper stock and I asked what it cost. She said that she went to NYU and made them there, which is why she was able to give them out for free. A rather large skinhead then plopped down beside us and we started talking with him for a bit. He was upset about the age limit and not being able to get in. He'd come all the way from California. This was the first we heard of an age restriction so I asked how old you had to be. When he said 16 I think both Phil and my hearts sank. We'd come all this way only to get stopped at the door. I couldn't believe that this huge guy was only 15 also, but he was slick. He told us he'd been sneaking into shows back home for a while and that he'd find a way to get us all in.
When the doors opened at 3 our new friend told us to wait until the place filled up a bit and then to follow him in. He walked over to Karen Kristal, the owner, Hilly's ex-wife, she took the IDs and door money. When she asked for his he pulled out his wallet and as he opened it he made sure that every single business card in it went flying all over the place. As Karen bent down to help him pick them up he shoved me and whispered, "Go." I didn't hesitate and Phil was right behind me. I don't know if he ever got in or not, but that was the last I saw of him.
The first band to play was the NY Hoods. It was their first show. A lot of people will tell you a lot of things about CBGB, but I'll tell you this. I know why bands wanted to play there in it's hay day. The energy, the sound system, the crowd. It was electric. I can only imagine what it must have been like to be on that stage, your first time playing out. They put on a very respectable show which earned them many follow up gigs at CBs through the upcoming years.
Between acts CBs had a re-entry policy. I hatched up a plan to go back to the front desk on the way out and get us a new stamp saying ours had sweated off. Lucky for us Karen had stepped away from the door when we tried this. As we came back in for the second band she said that she thought she recognized us. "You two are the ones that snuck in earlier."
"No, we didn't. We have hand stamps."
How she remembered us in that crowd and how we actually fooled her I'll never know.
Next up was another new band playing their first show also. The Gorilla Biscuits. A group that later went on to become one of the most important bands in the whole of the NYHC scene. There was one thing that stood out to me and I don't know why it did, but on the side of one of his sneakers the guitarist had written DRUG FREE YOUTH. It was there and then I took a vow to never do drugs. Not that I had at this point, but I remembered thinking how stupid it was of Phil to have bought that beer. What was he really trying to prove? I was going to be drug free.
Sitting on the stage after the Gorilla Biscuits played a guy in a yellow Token Entry shirt came up and started talking to us. I remember really liking that shirt. His name was Ernie and he had a funny voice. He asked us where we were from and our names. Who we had come to see. I know Phil was trying to sound cool when he said the name of the headlining act, JFA. I know what Phil listened to and neither of us had ever heard JFA before. I was honest. I said, "Token Entry."
"Oh, really? How do you know us?"
It was then that I realized I was actually talking with a member of the band.
"We listen to the Pat Duncan show on WFMU and he plays you guys all the time."
"What song does he play?" Ernie asked.
"Tragic Magic."
"That's pretty cool."
Just then their singer, Anthony came up and Ernie introduced us to him. I fell in love with Token Entry right then and there. My very first show and I'm already making friends with the band. Their performance was amazing and it ended with them spraying the audience with silly string during Tragic Magic.
I guess there was some other band called JFA that played after that, but I didn't care. I had a new favorite band, my ears were ringing, and on the trip home on the train I felt enlightened. I had found a new church and a new god to believe in. CBGB's Sunday afternoon matinees and hardcore music.
The following Thursday, like every other Thursday I had on WFMU. Pat had the perfect voice for radio. "This next one was recorded last Sunday at CBGBs. Token Entry, live, Tragic Magic."
Just as the bassline started rolling in clear as can be, Ernie's voice. "This one goes out to Tom and Phil who listen to us on WFMU."
The phone rang. I knew who it was. I answered it, "Holy shit, did you just hear that?"
"No fucking way. That's the coolest thing ever."
We had gotten a shout out at the show and didn't even know it.
These videos are from that afternoon, a long, long time ago. The Token Entry one unfortunately, is not "Tragic Magic," but I was there, at 15, having my whole world turned upside down.
And the Gorilla Biscuits entire first show.
I went on through the years to become good friends with the entire band. In 1987 I booked them to play in my hometown with a new, unknown band called Sick of it All, roadied for them on a mini tour of the Northeast, and I eventually even ended up with one of those cool, long out of print yellow shirts.
The one and only legendary CBGB. Gone, but not forgotten.
Karen Krystal and son.
It was just a few days before we were due to go into the 10th grade. We were 15. Phil and I had a tiny, little scrap of paper with crude directions scribbled down by his older brother. They were from the 9th Street Path station to 315 Bowery. CBGB.
I had known Phil for three years and during that time we had our ups and downs. We'd had fights, grew apart, and came back together again. I think when we realized that we were the only two kids in our school that liked hardcore music that even if we didn't want to be friends, we had no one else.
Initially, I had gotten into bands like Black Flag, The Clash, The Dead Kennedys, and The Sex Pistols because they were the most accessible. Even the local mom and pop music shop carried their records. And though I had two older brothers and an older sister who were into bands like Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, and Iron Maiden and had influenced my taste somewhat, this was my music. Phil's older brother, on the other hand, was in a punk band. He made us a compilation tape that changed our worlds completely. It had real underground bands on it. Ones you didn't see on MTV. The Cramps, Husker Du, The Replacements, Suicidal Tendencies. This one tape became our bible. We learned every word of every song on it.
Each Thursday night we'd listen to the only show on the radio that mattered, Upsala College's tiny, little station, 91.1 WFMU. From 7 to 9pm Pat Duncan played the best hardcore from around the country. At the end of the night Pat would announce all of the local upcoming bands playing that week. We just had to see what it was like to be there ourselves.
Neither of us knew our way around NYC. I had gone in a few times with my parents, but never paid attention to where we were going or how we got there. I had only ever gone in on my own once before. But Phil had this piece of paper and we had a goal. CBs or bust.
I remember coming off of the train and into the street. 9th St and 6th Ave. The smell of Bella Pizza, gone now, unfortunately. It was the first time I had ever had a real New York slice. I remember the taste. How crisp the crust was, how gooey the cheese, and how they sliced the sausage topping. One piece was a meal in itself. And back then for two bucks it had better be.
After studying the map carefully we got our bearings and headed up 9th Street, hung a right on 4th Ave, past Cooper Union, and down the Bowery. The Bowery had a reputation for it's homeless population and I can assure you it was well earned. The Bowery today is nothing like it was in 1986. On every corner there were countless bums, some asking for hand outs, others passed out completely. There was trash everywhere and on a warm, late summer day the smell was awful.
About the time we hit Houston we realized that we had gone too far. Phil wanted to test his cool so we stopped off in a bodega and he bought a beer. As we walked back up the Bowery it was hard to miss it this time. A crowd had begun to gather for the show. We sat out front for a while and were in awe of the other kids. These were honest to goodness real punks. Not like us suburbanite wanna-bes. A cute girl approached us and gave us each a fanzine. It was on real nice paper stock and I asked what it cost. She said that she went to NYU and made them there, which is why she was able to give them out for free. A rather large skinhead then plopped down beside us and we started talking with him for a bit. He was upset about the age limit and not being able to get in. He'd come all the way from California. This was the first we heard of an age restriction so I asked how old you had to be. When he said 16 I think both Phil and my hearts sank. We'd come all this way only to get stopped at the door. I couldn't believe that this huge guy was only 15 also, but he was slick. He told us he'd been sneaking into shows back home for a while and that he'd find a way to get us all in.
When the doors opened at 3 our new friend told us to wait until the place filled up a bit and then to follow him in. He walked over to Karen Kristal, the owner, Hilly's ex-wife, she took the IDs and door money. When she asked for his he pulled out his wallet and as he opened it he made sure that every single business card in it went flying all over the place. As Karen bent down to help him pick them up he shoved me and whispered, "Go." I didn't hesitate and Phil was right behind me. I don't know if he ever got in or not, but that was the last I saw of him.
The first band to play was the NY Hoods. It was their first show. A lot of people will tell you a lot of things about CBGB, but I'll tell you this. I know why bands wanted to play there in it's hay day. The energy, the sound system, the crowd. It was electric. I can only imagine what it must have been like to be on that stage, your first time playing out. They put on a very respectable show which earned them many follow up gigs at CBs through the upcoming years.
Between acts CBs had a re-entry policy. I hatched up a plan to go back to the front desk on the way out and get us a new stamp saying ours had sweated off. Lucky for us Karen had stepped away from the door when we tried this. As we came back in for the second band she said that she thought she recognized us. "You two are the ones that snuck in earlier."
"No, we didn't. We have hand stamps."
How she remembered us in that crowd and how we actually fooled her I'll never know.
Next up was another new band playing their first show also. The Gorilla Biscuits. A group that later went on to become one of the most important bands in the whole of the NYHC scene. There was one thing that stood out to me and I don't know why it did, but on the side of one of his sneakers the guitarist had written DRUG FREE YOUTH. It was there and then I took a vow to never do drugs. Not that I had at this point, but I remembered thinking how stupid it was of Phil to have bought that beer. What was he really trying to prove? I was going to be drug free.
Sitting on the stage after the Gorilla Biscuits played a guy in a yellow Token Entry shirt came up and started talking to us. I remember really liking that shirt. His name was Ernie and he had a funny voice. He asked us where we were from and our names. Who we had come to see. I know Phil was trying to sound cool when he said the name of the headlining act, JFA. I know what Phil listened to and neither of us had ever heard JFA before. I was honest. I said, "Token Entry."
"Oh, really? How do you know us?"
It was then that I realized I was actually talking with a member of the band.
"We listen to the Pat Duncan show on WFMU and he plays you guys all the time."
"What song does he play?" Ernie asked.
"Tragic Magic."
"That's pretty cool."
Just then their singer, Anthony came up and Ernie introduced us to him. I fell in love with Token Entry right then and there. My very first show and I'm already making friends with the band. Their performance was amazing and it ended with them spraying the audience with silly string during Tragic Magic.
I guess there was some other band called JFA that played after that, but I didn't care. I had a new favorite band, my ears were ringing, and on the trip home on the train I felt enlightened. I had found a new church and a new god to believe in. CBGB's Sunday afternoon matinees and hardcore music.
The following Thursday, like every other Thursday I had on WFMU. Pat had the perfect voice for radio. "This next one was recorded last Sunday at CBGBs. Token Entry, live, Tragic Magic."
Just as the bassline started rolling in clear as can be, Ernie's voice. "This one goes out to Tom and Phil who listen to us on WFMU."
The phone rang. I knew who it was. I answered it, "Holy shit, did you just hear that?"
"No fucking way. That's the coolest thing ever."
We had gotten a shout out at the show and didn't even know it.
These videos are from that afternoon, a long, long time ago. The Token Entry one unfortunately, is not "Tragic Magic," but I was there, at 15, having my whole world turned upside down.
And the Gorilla Biscuits entire first show.
I went on through the years to become good friends with the entire band. In 1987 I booked them to play in my hometown with a new, unknown band called Sick of it All, roadied for them on a mini tour of the Northeast, and I eventually even ended up with one of those cool, long out of print yellow shirts.
The one and only legendary CBGB. Gone, but not forgotten.
Karen Krystal and son.
Karen Kristal, ex-wife of Hilly, worked at the club from its inception in 1973 to the early 1990s, and the Voice says she was highly respected and "developed a reputation among patrons, bouncers, bartenders and musicians alike, as a bit of a humourless hard-ass". She reportedly even scared The Ramones, who would hide their joints when they saw her coming.
"I was more scared of Karen than I was of the skinheads," said George Tabb, a founding member of the False Prophets, former CBGB employee, and longtime Kristal family friend, as well as a reporter who covered the scene at the club for Maximum Rock'n'Roll. "They all had this respect for her. She put on the matinees. It was her idea, and that basically started the whole hardcore movement in New York."
Token Entry's first ep.
VIEW 25 of 25 COMMENTS
wow wow wow
I am so jelous or something
1986, I was 2 years old
wow, I ll read it again