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This venue is closed.

Bleecker Street, in all its deeply wack splendor, literally ends at CBGB's doorstep. So it's fitting that this bar, which took a chance on a shitty band called the Ramones and thus midwifed the punk-rock revolution, is the archetypal Bleecker Street rock landmark. For better or for worse, the lifestyle of the modern hipster was born here. Seeing music is almost beside the point: If you're not standing bunched together with strangers; if you don't leave with a beer spilled all over your new shirt; if you don't visit the most godforsaken bathroom in Christendom, then you haven't really been to CB's. (A more conventionally pleasant time is to be had in the downstairs lounge.) — Rob Kemp