The greatest rock & roll band that’s ever existed, TheDwarves, were scheduled to play at Bowery Electric, and it had been too
long since I’ve seen them. I bought a ticket online and made plans to travel to
Manhattan on a weekend, something I rarely do anymore. But this show would be
worth it, I was certain.
I made my way to Bowery Electric, which is on the Bowery a short block uptown
from where CBGB used to be.
The Bowery has not been itself for a long time now. It was
known the world over as a place for bums. It was the Skid Row before Skid Row
existed, and served as the template for the down and out sections of town in
art, literature, and life.
I would travel to Manhattan when I could as a suburban
teenager in the 1980s and 1990s, and going to the East Village was a harrowing
experience. The Bowery was full of homeless people selling trinkets and other
junk on blankets. Some of the bums were mental patients on medication that just
stared into space. Drunks slept in doorways, crack heads begged for money or
cigarettes or robbed you. If there was a Bum Olympics in 1989, it would have
been held on the Bowery.
Today there are few homeless charities and even fewer flop
houses on the Bowery. Fancy hotels and restaurants dot the Bowery now, and
apartments that used to rent for a few hundred dollars a month in my lifetime
now rent for upwards of $5,000 a month, if they’re available for rent at all.
That the Bowery Electric still exists is short of a miracle.
So many music venues fled Manhattan that had Joey Ramone lived he would barely
recognize the street that bears his name. Standing outside the venue, I was
mistaken for a bouncer as a young woman began handing me her I.D. I waved her
inside, telling her I didn’t work there. Maybe I should have asked her for a $5
cover and then treated myself to something at 7 Eleven up the street.
The venue’s Web site said that the show would start at 7
p.m. and seemed to indicate another show was scheduled to start at 10. I
hustled and made good time and got to the show to learn that the first band of
the night had canceled and that The Dwarves would not be starting to play until
10 p.m., when the Web site had said the show would end. Even in these modern
times, the best shows still run on Punk Rock Time.
I set out for a brief walkabout of the East Village and
found myself on St. Mark’s Place, where everything is now geared towards
tourists or college students. The Papaya King proved a good find; I was one of
two customers there at the time and I enjoyed some hot dogs while watching
people walk by, most of them much younger and none of them looking like fellow
travelers in the neighborhood for a punk rock show.
Across from Papaya King, the building that once housed the
iconic fashion store Trash and Vaudeville is shuttered
and under renovation. I would go there all the time years ago, not to buy
things, but to put up flyers for upcoming shows that Blackout Shoppers would be playing. The store is still in
business nearby on East 7th Street, but seeing it pass from its
longtime location on St. Mark’s was another illustration of how change has
rapidly come to this part of the city.
On 2nd Avenue between 7th and 8th
Streets there is still a vacant lot where three buildings were destroyed in a
gas explosion in 2015. There were a few curiosity seekers milling about the
sidewalk where a chain-link fence keeps people from the lot. The lot is covered
in gravel and there were two bouquets of flowers there for the two people
killed in the explosion.
I made my way back to Bowery Electric and started running
into people I knew. I am not as active on the music scene as I used to be, but
I have a lot of friends I made over those years and meeting up with them at
shows is always fun. I made my way downstairs where the main stage is set and
found a good spot on a low balcony to see the show.
The Dwarves did not disappoint. They played
their entire The Dwarves Are Young And Good Looking Album straight through and then
played a lot their most beloved songs. Original guitar player
HeWhoCannotBeNamed joined them and with Nick Oliveri on bass they can branch
out into some of their more aggressive stalwarts. The Fresh Prince of Darkness
shreds on lead guitar. Lead singer Blag Dahlia is a sinister master of
ceremonies who wears a shit-eating grin. A Dwarves show is a celebration of the
nihilistic aggression that made punk rock so phenomenal, but with a humorous
twist that prevents anyone from trying to take things too seriously.
At the end of the show I met some more good music friends
and made my way upstairs to use the bathroom before I headed home.
When I got upstairs, there was a different scene. The
well-dressed hipsters and well-to-do young people with good jobs where in
command of this part of the venue. As I stood in line to use one of the single-use
restrooms, I decided to stretch my back since I had been on my feet so long. I
bent over a bit to put my hands on my knees to straighten by back and the
sharply-dressed guy who was next in line took a few steps back, thinking I was
getting ready to throw up all over the floor. I thought about making some
gesture to assuage his fears, and let him know that I am only a sober
middle-aged punk rock fan with a bad back, but why bother? If you’re in the
habit of wearing pressed slacks and dress shoes to a bar on the Bowery, maybe you
should live in fear of being vomited on.
On my way out, I stopped to shake Blag Dahlia’s hand and
congratulate him on a great show. He thanked me and I left into the glittery
night of the East Village for the long trip home.
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