The legendary music venue is as vital to the New York music scene as ever.
No End for the Bitter End
By Ken Shane
The bus slows on Bleecker as it nears LaGuardia Place. It’s not exactly the kind of rock-and-roll tour bus that the big stars ride around in. It’s more like one of those short buses that are used to transport senior citizens in the suburbs.
It has been said that the journey is more important than the destination. Not tonight. The six young musicians aboard the bus know that the stage they’re headed for tonight represents the best possibility that someone of importance in the music industry will see their set and boost their futures. They’ve been duking it out in clubs along the Jersey shore the past two or three years, and even though this has become a monthly trip to the city for the past year or so, it never gets old. They never take it for granted. After all, you never know who might be in the audience this night.
In a couple of hours they will have their moment in the spotlight on a stage that has known such luminaries as Bob Dylan, Stevie Wonder, Neil Young, Patti Smith, Miles Davis, Joni Mitchell, Billy Joel, and Sam & Dave, not to mention comedians like Woody Allen and Bill Cosby. The venue they’re headed for has been around since 1961, years before any of them were born. The canopy over the front doors says The Bitter End, but that’s for the tourists. Anyone who knows anything about the music scene in New York City knows this place without looking.
The days of the big headliners may have passed, but there’s more music than ever at The Bitter End. There are shows every night of the week, sometimes featuring as many as six acts in a single night. Despite the abundance of artists, the quality of the music has not diminished one bit; the management is very careful about who is selected to perform here. There is a tradition of excellence, and nobody is about to let it slide.
The audience is a mixed bag. There are people from out of town – way out of town. They come from Europe, Asia, and points across the There are family and friends of the evening’s performers. There are musicians dropping in to connect with their peers, and music-industry professionals hoping to spot the next big thing.
Originally opened by Fred Weintraub, The Bitter End has been owned for the past 32 years by Paul Colby. Colby began his career as a song plugger for Benny Goodman’s publishing company, and went on to work for such deities as Frank Sinatra, Duke Ellington, and Guy Lombardo during the Golden Age of American popular music.
Later, Colby had an acclaimed parallel career as a furniture designer, creating pieces for legends like Miles Davis. Inevitably, the music business called Colby back. In 1968 he started to run the Bitter End, and by 1974 he owned it. He remains an integral part of the club to this day.
While scintillating music is being playing inside, the sidewalk scene in front of the place is almost as interesting. “It’s not a line, it’s a gathering,” Paul Rizzo intones at the door, attempting to attract curious passers-by. On any given night, you’ll find an intriguing mix outside of musicians and industry wheels, fans, tourists, street people, and, of course, smokers. A lot of business gets done on that patch of sidewalk.
Even on the busiest nights, the line at the door moves efficiently. Customers are queried about which band they’ve come to see, and that group’s fee for the night is based largely on the response. Using this system, known as a “door deal,” to determine compensation encourages the musicians to go all out, and nobody seems to mind because, truth be told, most bands would play the Bitter End for free. It’s that special.
Once inside, it becomes immediately apparent that you’ve entered a new world. There’s a long bar on the left, a stage straight ahead. The famous red-brick wall that has functioned as a backdrop for so many great performances is there, along with tables in front and to the side of the stage. If you’re at The Bitter End for the music, there’s not a bad seat in the house.
From a musician’s point of view, what sets The Bitter End apart from most other venues is the respect it’s accorded. A musician feels genuinely appreciated by the club’s staff, a breath of fresh air in a business that can at times be brutal. The Bitter End maintains first-rate production values, communicating to musicians that somebody actually cares about the presentation of their performance, which in turn inspires them to play better.
The initial challenge, though, is to actually get on the stage. Each group brings its own equipment, which usually means having to navigate large pieces of gear through the throng that has gathered between the front door and the stage. It seems a bit daunting at first, but somehow it all goes smoothly, and before you know it, it’s time for our young strivers to play their set.
On this night, the house is nearly full. The guys are reminded to keep their energy level up, but with a responsive crowd like this there’s no need for reminders. They come out as if sprung from a cage, and for the next 50 minutes do their utmost to reach out to every one of the souls gazing up at them.
Before they know it, it’s all over, and too soon at that. It’s going to take some time to wind down. As a crew moves the equipment back to the bus, the boys pass the time talking to fans old and new. They know that this is when they’re likely to be approached by industry people who have just seen their set. Again, the scene moves from the inside of the club to the sidewalk.
Long after there’s nothing keeping them there, everyone’s still hanging out. It’s a good time. No one wants to leave. After the crowd outside has dissipated, the Jerseyites will wander back inside to listen to the bands that follow them, and have a drink. Then, a couple of hours after playing its last note, they get back in the bus, and back on the road. Some will sleep as the bus hurtles south along the Turnpike, but others remain too charged up.
The City of New York bestowed Landmark status on the Bitter End in 1992, but as the club’s Website tells us: “… the Bitter End is not a museum. It is a living, breathing part of the entertainment industry.” The city has lost some great clubs over the past few years, most recently another Greenwich Village jewel, the sorely missed Bottom Line. But the Bitter End survives and thrives. Long may it do so.
