For the first time in nearly two decades, CBGB, the beloved Lower East Side punk venue, was back in the New York groove, but in a different form and in a new setting. Last weekend, nearly 10,000 fans trekked out to Under the K Bridge Park in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, for the CBGB Festival.
For nearly 33 years, CBGB was a symbol of punk’s passion and persistence. It all started in 1973 when proprietor Hilly Kristal transformed his dive bar into a venue for Country, Bluegrass, Blues and Other Music for Uplifting Gormandizers — CBGB-OMFUG for short. Or, to the millions of punks who staggered under the entrance’s iconic awning: “CBGBs.”
When Kristal’s vision for the club as a country music mecca didn’t materialize, he pivoted to the loud, abrasive sounds emerging from Bowery — even though the former Marine personally didn’t care for it.
For the three decades Kristal ran CBGB, he never stopped experimenting and wasn’t afraid to try something new: from serving 50-cent bowls of chili to staging all-ages matinee hardcore shows. Today, CBGB is best-remembered as the incubator for punk’s first wave, launching the legacies of Television, Talking Heads, Blondie, Patti Smith and the Ramones.
But it was seldom pretty. Marky Ramone, who played with Richard Hell and the Voidoids before joining the Ramones, recalled what it was like back when Kristal slept in a cot in the back of the bar. “There were no doors on the bathroom. There was a dog that Hilly owned that used to s— all over the place and everybody would slide on it as they walked in.”
When CBGB closed its doors in 2006, it became an unlikely symbol of gentrification after a clothing boutique took over the storied space. Kristal passed away the following year and ownership of the CBGB brand changed hands. Since then, CBGB has struggled to find the proper platform to showcase its history — until last weekend.
The CBGB Festival delivered a diverse lineup of bands from punk rock’s past, present and future that reflected the inclusive spirit of the early ’70s. “We weren’t competitive amongst each other,” remembered Ramone, “because all our genres were different. Blondie didn’t sound like the Ramones. The Ramones didn’t sound like Patti Smith. Patti Smith didn’t sound like Television.”
That diversity was important to the festival’s organizers. Phil Sandhaus, brand manager and partner, looked to the past for inspiration. “What would Hilly do?” Sandhaus said. “He was the pioneer.”
Fans pose and take pictures in front of a replica of the legendary punk club at CBGB Festival.
(Maggie Lndn Photo)
Sandhaus’ search for a new home for CBGB has been no less challenging than it was half a century ago. “The Lower East Side is not what the Lower East Side used to be,” Sandhaus said. “And so is it Brooklyn? Is it Queens? As we’re looking for a venue, we decided to put on a festival.”
To lend a bit of grit to the proceedings, the original bar was put on display and Kristal’s office was assembled in the VIP area. The iconic awning, however, was a reconstruction. (The original is on display at the Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Fame.)

Iggy Pop performs at CBGB Festival.
(Jenna Murray)
Each of the festival’s three stages was curated to reflect Kristal’s evolving vision for his infamous patch of punk rock paradise. The CBGB Stage, the largest and loudest, was where headlining acts such as the Melvins, the Damned, Jack White, and Iggy Pop turned back the clock and ripped up the stage. Or, in Iggy’s case, rolled around on it.
The Young Punks Stage featured artists from the next generation: Pink Shift, Scowl, Linda Lindas and Destroy Boys to name a few. Many of these artists are young, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know their history.
The Linda Lindas’ Eloise Wong, who danced in the pit before and after her set, was well aware of the club’s legacy. “When the Linda Lindas started out,” she said, “we were covering a lot of Ramones songs.” The L.A. band has also opened for Blondie and recorded a cover of the Talking Heads song “Found a Job,” which the group played during its set.
Kat Moss of Scowl learned her history the old-fashioned way: She read about it in a book. “I got most of my information about CBGB from ‘Please Kill Me.’ I recommend everybody read it!” (Legs McNeil’s oral history is a great place to start, but I also suggest “This Ain’t No Disco: The Story of CBGB” by Roman Kozak, reissued last year by Trouser Press.)
Hilly’s Stage was where many of the hardcore bands with a personal connection to CBGB played, including Cro-Mags, Murphy’s Law and Gorilla Biscuits. Because many of the old guard got record deals, they quickly outgrew CBGB and never played there again. This opened the door for the all-ages hardcore shows. Many of the kids who attended those matinees started their own bands and played their first shows at CBGB.
Harley Flanagan of the Cro-Mags went to CBGB for the first time when he was 6, saw his first punk show at age 10 and played there shortly afterward with the Stimulators. He then went on to play at the club throughout the ’80s, ’90s and ’00s — right up to the final weekend in 2006.
“I am probably one of the only human beings on this Earth that went through literally every era of that club’s existence,” Flanagan said. How many times did he play there? “More times than I could even try to put a number on.”
For James Drescher of Murphy’s Law, playing on Hilly’s Stage was a powerful reminder of the man who gave him and countless others their start. “You didn’t really get it till you grew up and you’re like, ‘Wow, this guy really looked out for us as kids and helped nurture us so we could make music and become the people we are today.’”

Fans at CBGB Festival hang out between bands.
(Maggie Lndn Photo)
As much as Drescher relished those memories, he acknowledged that times had changed. He encouraged everyone to turn toward the New York skyline and said, “Look at the city we can’t afford to live in.”
Hilly’s Stage was also the scene of a powerful moment when D-Generation’s Jesse Malin, who is recovering from a spinal stroke, rose from his wheelchair and sang alongside Drescher and Murphy’s Law.
While organizers search for the perfect place for a new permanent home, plans for another CBGB Festival are underway. Brooklyn Councilman Justin Brannan, the only elected official in New York to actually play at CBGB, hopes it’s here to stay.
“Playing CBGBs was a real rite of passage,” Brannan said. “You felt like you’d gone beyond just being a local band to really being on the map. When you walked into that place, you felt the history of who’d come before you, that this was sacred ground.”
Jim Ruland is the author of “Corporate Rock Sucks: The Rise & Fall of SST Records” and publishes a Substack about books, music and books about music called “Message from the Underground.”
This story originally appeared on LA Times