BLOOD AND MUSCLES @ CBGBs - 1978

1978
The Hell’s Angels frequented CBGBs.
A rough Bowery bar.
No one challenged their claim
To the punk rock venue.
The Angels scared off other asshole bikers
Although not every night.
The Cramps first played to a packed house
Garage rock fans and some Jersey bikers.
The Cramps
Rocking,
As if the world was diving into the sun tomorrow.
I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Strychnine, The Way I Walk.
My hillbilly girlfriend hip-shimmying
Head banging
Dear Alice
A hillbilly Alice she was
Baptized by moonshine
At a West Virginia home
Not far from the coal-mining hollows.
She as hillbilly
As it gets in New York
She loved the Cramps.
During the encore
two Jersey biker chicks jumped the stage
Obviously go-go dancers
Tramps in the best sense of the word.
James Chance, a man of danger
Joined them biker sluts
Fondling their stripper breasts.
Their boyfriends in the front row.
The saxist stuck out his tongue.
The girls thought him funny.
Not so the bikers.
They jumped onto the stage.
Chance's skin and bones versus the bikers’ motorcycle muscle.
A solid right cracked Chance's nose.
Blood spurt onto a dirty white shirt
A b-movie actor scrambled on the stage
To rescue his skinny friend.
Eric Mitchell.
The half-Cherokee stepped between the biker and Chance.
The band played another chorus of Surfing Bird.
This was CBGBs.
Alice grabbed my arm.
"Not your fight."
The biker looped a slow overhead right.
His fist loudly impacted on the actor’s nose.
A crack louder than the Surfing Bird
Blood splattered everywhere.
Merv the bouncer threw out the bikers.
They left without a struggle.
The 6-6 doorman
A punk version of the Addams Family’s Lurch.
Even the Angels feared Merv.
The next night Eric entered the bar
A black eye.
Chance sported a double badge of honor.
That night the two
Everyone’s darlings,
Because at CBGBS
There was never any shame in losing.

Foto by Andrey Armyagov

BLOOD AND MUSCLES @ CBGBs – 1978

1978
CBGBs.
A rough Bowery bar.
The Hell's Angels home
Away from the clubhouse
No one challenged their claim
To the punk rock venue.
The Angels scared off other asshole bikers
Although not every night.
The Cramps
From Memphis
First show in NYC
A packed house
Garage rock fans and some Jersey bikers.
Rocking,
As if the world was diving
Into the sun tomorrow.
Rocking
I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Strychnine, The Way I Walk.
My hillbilly girlfriend hip-shimmying
Like a drunk cheerleader.
I so loved her.
A hillbilly Alice was
Baptized by moonshine
In West Virginia
Her home
Not far from the coal-mining hollows.
She was as hillbilly
As hillbilly gets in New York
She loved the Cramps.
During the encore
Two Jersey biker chicks jumped the stage
Obviously go-go dancers
James Chance, a man of danger,
Joined the two tramps
Fondling their stripper breasts.
Their boyfriends in the front row.
The saxist stuck out his tongue.
The girls thought him funny.
Not so the bikers.
They jumped onto the stage.
Chance was skin and bones
Versus
The bikers’ motrocycle muscle.
A solid right on Chance's nose.
Blood spurt onto his dirty white shirt
A B-movie actor
The star of BLANK GENERATION
Eric Mitchell.
Onto the stage
The half-Pawnee stepped between the bikers and Chance.
The band played another chorus of Surfing Bird.
Alice grabbed my arm.
"Not your fight."
The biker looped a slow overhead right.
His fist impacted on the actor’s nose.
Bone on bone.
A crack louder than Surfing Bird
Blood splattered everywhere.
Eric somehow did not go down
After all he was half-Pawnee
They left without a struggle.
The 6-6 doorman
A punk version of the Addams Family’s Lurch.
Even the Angels feared Merv.
The next night Eric entered the bar with a black eye.
Chance sported a double badge of honor.
That night the two
Everyone’s darlings,
Because at CBGBS
There was never any shame in losing.

Best Punch At CBGBs

CBGBs was a rough bar. The Hell's Angels used it for away play and no one questioned their right to act like they owned the place,since they scared off most other asshole bikers, although not every night.

The night of the Cramps' first show at the Bowery club was packed with affectionados on garage trash music and the Cramps played, as if tomorrow the world was diving into the sun.

I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Sunglasses After Dark, Strychnine, and a cover of the Trashmens' Surfer Bird highlighted the show.

During the encore the scrawny saxist James Chance of the Contortions took the stage.

Not to perform, but to fondle two biker chicks from Jersey.

Their boyfriends were in the front row.

James stuck out his tongue.

The girls thought it was funny.

One of the biker boys had no sense of humor and jumped onto the stage.

It wasn't much of a fight. Chance was skin and bones, The biker had a body of of mechanic muscle. A solid right to Chance's nose sent the sax player into the drum set. Blood poured onto James' dirty white shirt.

Eric Mitchell, film actor extraordinaire, scrambled onto the stage to rescue his skinny friend. The actor was part-Cherokee and warned the biker to stop.

The band kept playing Surfing Bird.

The audience watched the show.

The biker looped a slow overhead right and his fist impacted on Eric's nose louder than the band. Blood splattered everywhere. Merv the bouncer threw out the bikers. He was 6-6 and looked like a family member of the Addams family. Even the Angels respected Merv.

The next night Eric entered the club with a black eye.

James was wearing the same badge of dishonor only for both eyes.

That night the two were everyone's darlings.

For that night and beyond for a bar filled with losers.