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Part of the punk rock ethos is the idea that nothing can lasts forever. In fact, since today is the only day worth living for, tomorrow isn't worth worrying about. Or, as the Sex Pistols put it, "No future." So it shouldn't have been surprising when the most notorious punk venue in the world finally shut down on this day in 2006. CBGB & OMFUG (which stood for "Country, Bluegrass, Blues and Other Music For Uplifting Gormandizers") opened in 1973 as a juke joint but was taken over in the late 1970s by the punk and new wave movement. It gave a stage to groups like the Ramones, Blondie, Talking Heads, Television — basically, anybody who was important in the New York rock scene during that era. As time moved on, CBGB became more of a haven for hardcore and amateur bands, but it remained a seminal (and meaningful) stage for any group looking to make a name for themselves in Manhattan.

On October 15, 2006, Patti Smith (one of the venue's early breakout stars) played the final concert in the space. The loud, raucous, sometimes amateurish show saw Smith give the place an emotional farewell. The concert was also a tribute to all of the punks who got lost along the way, including Joey Ramone. As the singer for the Ramones, Joey was an unlikely frontman: Super tall, impossibly skinny and socially awkward. But his sweet voice provided the right amount of sugar for the Ramones punchy three-chord jumps. As a tribute to CBGB, Joey and all the other punks who aren't with us any more, check out the video for Joey's cover of "What a Wonderful World," the saddest happy song ever recorded by a geek from Queens.

CBGB now

For punk-rock pilgrims headed to 315 Bowery, until recently the site of CBGB and the mecca of all things safety-pin and duct-tape, there’s a real shock in store. When I toured the space's reincarnation, I wasn’t fully prepared to see the former puke-and-piss palace converted into…a high-end clothing store.

Designer John Varvatos has leased the space and transformed it into his latest L.A. rocker-chic-friendly boutique. And while Varvatos has succeeded in keeping several of the club’s original elements intact, the space looks – and smells – starkly different from when I was last there, stepping on the carcasses of decades-dead mice drudged up during the move. Varvatos and his people have somehow managed to scour and scrub the dirtiest place in Manhattan – and transform it into a space that, I’ve got to admit, still manages to honor the memory of its former tenants. To his credit, Varvatos didn’t touch what remnants of CBGB were left behind before he moved in – whole sections of wall covered with rock fliers and graffiti remain, almost as headstones to the lore of this musical landmark, and even the crackled paint that covered the club’s walls wasn’t stripped away.

More after the jump.

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