If you grew up in a certain time, and had no religious beliefs other than punk and new wave, then no matter where you were, CBGB was your Mecca.

But the NYT's Jon Pareles seems to argue (the headline 'You want punk rock? Close CBGB, say goodbye' is much more definitive) it might well be time to let go (the club might close in September).

An excerpts:

By the early 1980's, CBGB had already earned its legend by booking arty primitivists - like Television, Patti Smith, the Ramones, Talking Heads and Blondie - who turned out to be hugely influential. (Mr. Kristal's early edict that bands had to play only their own material was crucial; it has lapsed.) The post-punk and no-wave bands that are now being widely imitated also had a home at CBGB as the 1970's turned into the 1980's, and so did hardcore matinees. But in the years since, well, it often seems that all a band needs to get a CBGB gig is a wacky name. Musicians like P. J. Harvey and Guns N' Roses, who were grateful for what they learned from the first CBGB bands, have performed there by way of tribute. But it has been a long time since the club was the crucible for a movement.

In some ways, CBGB is a victim of one of punk's enduring myths: that amateur enthusiasm is all a band needs. All the stickers on the walls prove otherwise. What made the first CBGB bands important wasn't that they were amateurs, but that they were inspired amateurs; they had a sound in their heads, one that didn't require too much technique.

Clubs become legends with a confluence of acoustics, ambience (or lack of it), attitude and memories; they stay alive through their bookings. If the Village Vanguard were to start presenting student jazz groups, its magnificent acoustics wouldn't be much of a draw. Somehow, CBGB has managed to capitalize on its memories for years; it has become a pilgrimage site more than a place to discover bands. When punk got its second wind in the 1990's, and when New York art-rock recharged itself in the early 2000's, CBGB was a bystander. What's legendary now is not CBGB's music, but its stubbornness - a punk virtue, but one of the lesser ones. ...