The Midnight Creeps and The Sleazies booked gigs opening for The Vibrators at CBGB’s.  I was invited along by Jennifer Hurricane lead singer for the Midnight Creeps.  The show was Saturday September 29^th, this would be my last chance to go to CBGB’s; sure I’ll go.  Jennifer said “We’re leaving around 2, well no maybe 3 ok ok 4.”  At 4:30 we were on the freeway heading south.  The worst part about driving to New York from Providence is Connecticut.  100 miles of sheer never ending tedium, but luckily, I was one of 13 in a 12-passenger van so it was a lot of fun..  In Mediocre (I think that was the name of the town) Connecticut we pulled over at a rest area cum McDonalds cum Dunkin Donuts cum Gift Shoppe.

“Hey you guys are a rock band!” said the roly-poly guy with the Burt Reynolds mustache. He was apparently once a fan of “Rawk” and asked Stimbot of the Sleazies if they sounded like “Satriani”.  His clearly embarrassed and aging trophy wife eased him into the SUV.

Back in the van Jennifer sits up front next to Jami who’s driving, Ma and Pa Punk Rock.  Ma starts making her skirt for the show out of a roll of Caution tape.  Jennifer usually makes her outfit just before the show.  She recently made a skirt from raw bacon.  When asked about it she simply shouted “Who wants to bring home the bacon?”

CB’s arranged a parking spot for us right out front and we all poured out onto Bowery.  Jennifer and I walked into the narrow club and past the stage to the restrooms. Some teenage boys with fabulous hair and famous person’s kid guitars were just finishing up their set and breaking down. Jaded New Yorkers watched her pass with interest.  Jennifer turned it on when we walked in to the door of CB’s.  Jennifer was now officially at work.

I slipped outside to meet some friends waiting like old groupies on the sidewalk.  We went off to semi-quiet yuppie bar and scared up a few bar stools.

New York has changed since I started going to CBGB’s but CB’s has not.  The East Village the one time home of bohemians and junkies has been repopulated by copyeditors and upper middle management bankers.  CBGB’s had to go. A good fight was fought but the realtors won.  It was over; but wait CB’s has been saved (sorta). It’s moving to Las Vegas! Vegas has always had a shitty music scene.  Sure John Davidson and Cher can get gig but not your average punk rock band.  Toto might be playing but le Tigre and The Dandy Wahols are not.  CB’s is moving lock stock and urinal and is giving Las Vegas the rock and roll legitimacy that only Vegas can buy.

The Sleazies were playing when we got back into the club.  “I wanna fuck your Mom” really is a hit. My friend Meg and I ordered a couple of beers. Meg now needed to pee. “Escort Me,” she shouted into my ear.  We worked our way back skirting the pit as best we could;  a crash and a stumble later we were in the dressing room talking to Jonas from The Midnight Creeps.  Jonas is a nice guy.  He’s really quiet and chick love him.  I showed Meg to the ladies room.  2 minutes later she returned.  “I can’t do it we have to go someplace else.”  Having used the men’s room I could only imagine the horrors of the ladies room.  We ran back across the street to the yuppie bar.  Much more pleasant!

We walked back in just as Jennifer and the Midnight Creeps were coming onto stage.  They killed! Jennifer’s rages backed by the Midnight Creeps pulled the crowd into their web. The Vibrators were next. My friend Jacki loves The Vibrators.  She felt she looked like someone’s mother “Have you seen my son?  I want to take his picture.” She said pulling a camera from her purse.

The Vibrators could be the scariest looking band I have ever seen.  An apparent combination of embalming fluid and oxycontin flows through their collapsed veins.  They played  well and put on a very good show.   I’m glad I got to see them.  When the show was over it was back to their crypt at the Chelsea for the Vibrators.

Out front after the show, I sat in the van with Pete Burr.  An old and very chatty black man offered to fly us home in his helicopter.  We also met Justin a 16-year-old punk rock runaway.  “Where are you guys from?” “Providence” “Where’s that?” “Rhode Island”  “Where’s that?”  “Go back to high school and finish taking geography kid”

I looked out of the van window at 3am to see Jennifer making out on the sidewalk with Punk Rock Boy.  He claims to be on the street.  I would have believed him if he weren’t almost clean shaven and to perfectly dressed. 

“I’m going camping this weekend with Seth Feldman.”

 “Okay honey, have fun!” 

Somehow, we were able to free ourselves from both Justin and the helicopter pilot load everyone including Jennifer into the van.  Driving through New York everyone has an opinion as to the best way to get out of town.  Suddenly Jennifer’s phone rings, it’s CB’s booker asking if she would be interested in playing another show.  Patti Smith is mentioned.  Patti is CB’s last act  fitting, as Joey is dead and would be the logical last act.  Patti it is. “Baby was a black sheep Baby was a whore…”

Suddenly I wake up and the van is stopping at the rest area in Boredom Bay Connecticut.  It’s like 4:75 or something in the morning before we finally get back on the road.  The next thing I know we are pulling into Providence.  I’m home. I can see my house from where Jami has parked the van.  6:35 am I’m in bed!

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