CBGB Page #3

We don't need a phone. We have a

pay phone. We're a bar. We need beer.

Jesus Christ.

Look at this... Look

at the size of that rat!

- Don't point at him.

- Why?

- It upsets him.

- Who?

Bert.

- Bert. Bert the rat?

- We have a deal.

- What are you talking about?

- He doesn't bite me if I feed him.

Hilly spent a fortune on

exterminating cockroaches...

and you're feeding a f***ing rat?

Shh!

He's listening. You're

gonna make him mad.

- How's the chili?

- Bert likes it.

If Bert doesn't eat it, I know

I can't feed it to anybody else.

- Well, as long as

Bert likes it. - Mm-hmm.

Get rid of Bert, right now.

And find some beer.

I like Lisa.

I like Lisa a lot.

Here you go. Television. Check

'em out. Right around the corner.

Here you go. Television. CBGB's.

I prefer the

term "underground rock. "

Underground implies secretive.

There's something

precious about that to me.

Like, "punk," on the other

hand, it's in your face.

It's sarcastic, ironic, cutting.

- So you're a punk?

- Yeah, I am too.

I'm an illustrator, and

I'm starting a magazine.

Yeah, it's called Punk

Hmm.

And your Punk magazine is going to

hold forth the losers as winners...

deify the freaks and

outcasts of the underground...

I mean downtown music scene.

- Yes.

- Thou shalt keep no gods...

especially fossils like

Eric Clapton and Zeppelin.

You wanna write for the magazine?

What's a degree from Oxford for anyway?

It was to impress your parents' friends.

- I'm John.

- Mary.

- Hey. Eddie McNeil.

- Hi, Eddie.

Nice to meet you.

- A. K.A. "Legs. "

- All right, Legs.

- CBGB.

- Yeah, how late you open tonight?

- Until 4:
00.

- In the morning?

A.M., right.

CBGB.

You got that

TV set band on tonight?

Yes, Television.

David Bowie says that Television is

the most original band in New York.

CBGB.

If that's what you want, I

can take care of it for you.

Coming to you from the

Bowery of New York City...

Television.

You know I

I jump outta bed

I pull down the shade

I used to have such sweet dreams

Now it's more like an air raid

I see the opposition clear

I set a flare

I don't care

- All that matters to me

- I don't care

That's all right, b*tch, I

I don't care

Slip out of myself like a shadow

Somersault through walls

I can't tel, it's really so odd

Is this spring or fall?

I always thought a punk was

someone who took it up the ass.

Said they met at art school.

Looks like they sniffed some

fumes from all that paint and glue.

- Tell 'em to wait.

- Okay. Why?

Let me see if I can increase

the size of the house.

Chief. Just a minute.

We're gonna see if we

can get more people to...

come in and listen to you.

Okay.

Stan...

I'd like to invite you into

the club to hear a band...

I think you will appreciate.

Hmm.

I'm working here, Kristal.

How 'bout if I buy you a beer?

Uh, look at that. Off duty.

Two beers.

The name of this band is Talking Heads.

We live across the street.

I can't seem to

face up to the facts

I'm tense and nervous

and I can't relax

I can't sleep 'cause

my bed's on fire

Don't touch me I'm

a real live wire

Psycho killer

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa,

fa, fa, fa, far better

Run, run, run, run,

run, run, run away

Oh

Psycho killer

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa,

fa, fa, fa, far better

Run, run, run, run,

run, run, run away

Oh-oh-oh-oh

Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay

Television. The Shirts. Orchestra Luna.

The Magic Tramps.

The Fast. Tuff Darts.

Dorian Zero.

The Mumps. The Miamis. Planets.

Leather Secrets.

Dancer. The Dictators.

Blondie.

Blondie.

You're so f***in' hot.

You're so f***in' hot.

You're so f***in' hot.

You're gonna kill. You're gonna kill.

All right, stupid.

All right. Clem?

Hi. We're Blondie.

You're gorgeous.

Thank you.

You like my shorts?

New York has gorgeous garbage.

Oh, Denis, be-do

You gotta get your ass down there!

F***!

Get your ass down there right now!

I'm in love with you

Bowery? I know there's

stuff happening down there.

It's just such a f***in' shithole.

Oh, with your eyes so blue

Denis, Denis, I've

got a crush on you

Denis, Denis, I'm

so in love with you

All right, all right. I'll go.

Oh, when we walk, it

always feels so nice

And when we talk, it

seems like paradise

- Becky!

- Yeah, Mr. Gant?

Becky, come here...

Moist towelette.

You're my king

And I'm in heaven every

time I look at you

It's called a cover charge.

You gotta pay to enter.

- I don't have any money.

- Let 'em in, Lisa.

- Let 'em in.

- Thanks.

F*** Max's. This place has dog sh*t.

This is for all you

drunks and rednecks...

and punks.

"As long as the blade has

not yet pierced this grain...

this fat package...

of listless vapors. "

Shut the f*** up! This is art.

This is Rimbaud, and it's the only

sustenance life might ever give you.

So eat up, motherfuckers!

All right, I'll start again.

"As long as the blade

has not yet pierced"...

Take me now, baby, here as I am

Hold me close Try and understand

Desire is hunger is

the fire I breathe

Love is the banquet

Excuse me!

Could I get through? Let

me in. Let me in. Let me in.

I'm Nicky Gant. I produce

records. You want me in your club.

Nice.

I hate the Bowery.

Now

Because the night

belongs to lovers

Because the night

belongs to lust

Because the night

belongs to lovers

Because the night belongs to us

Have my doubts when I'm alone

Love is the ring, telephone

Love is an angel

disguised as lust

Hey, Iggy.

Hey, Ork.

Let's go downstairs. I'll give you head.

Why don't you just lick my stomach?

Everybody wants to suck my cock.

All right.

They can't touch you now

Can't touch you now

Because the night

Here you go.

Dad, is there or isn't

there a cover charge?

Someone's gotta pay.

Hey, John, John...

isn't that the guy that made

that awful feedback album?

- John, it's Lou Reed.

- That's Lou Reed.

Oh, sh*t, that's Lou Reed.

We have to interview him.

Hey, Lou. Um, we would

like to interview you...

for the first issue of Punk magazine.

We'd like to put you on the cover.

Cover of the first issue.

If you'll agree to do an interview.

Circulation must be enormous.

Do you like Patti Smith?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah. Yeah.

What about Bruce Springsteen?

Oh, I love him.

Y:

- You do?

- Oh, yeah. He's one of us.

- Thank you.

He's a sh*t.

What are you talking about? What

kind of stupid question is that?

- Okay.

- Do I ask you what you like?

Who gives a f*** what I like? I

don't even give a f*** what I like.

Well, you're a rock star, man.

Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting.

Sontag called it "the sensibility

of failed seriousness. "

I'm waiting for my man

Hey, white boy, what

you doing uptown?

What's their name?

The Ramones.

Look like they were

raised on the police lines.

Oh, pardon me, sir

What do you guys have for me?

W:

- We got four songs.

"I Don't Wanna Walk Around With You"...

"I Don't Wanna Be Learned"...

"I Don't Wanna Be Tamed" and "I

Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement. "

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes