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How my musical obsession coincided with the rise of the now year-old Corryville concert venue. I was 5 when it opened. It began when I entered junior high. I went to a school just a few blocks up Vine Street. It was commonly known as Schiel, but I attended during a brief period when it focused on foreign languages and was called the Cincinnati Bilingual Academy.

My fellow musically-obsessive friends at the time loved to hang out on Short Vine. The record stores were a big draw, as was the arcade, Jupiter and Beyond. So we spent as much time as we could in the area after school and on weekends. But we would stand out front and marvel at the posters in the window, wishing we could go see some of these very bands with which we were becoming deeply obsessed.

At some point, we discovered the alleyway that ran behind the club and realized that was where the artists entered and loaded in. So we began a ritual that lasted through high school. A few friends and I would linger around the backstage door before shows by artists we loved, hoping to see our heroes and maybe get an autograph. There I got to meet some artists who were favorites of mine then and remain important to me to this day. The Police were by far my favorite band at the time, so it was incredibly exciting to say hello to Summers who is a tiny, tiny man and have him the pickguard I yanked off of my cheap acoustic guitar.

I also got to meet the members of L. Punk legends X. He chatted with us briefly and then when we asked for autographs, he happily obliged, pulling a silver paint pen from his leather jacket. Nervously, I got it off, but also broke the pen in the process somehow. Zoom started giving me shit and I was horribly embarrassed, but later realized he was likely just busting my chops and having fun with me.

The Beat were second only to The Police to me, but the show was during a time where we could only longingly look at the gig posters in the front windows. We arrived a few hours before the show and noticed that a few upperclassmen from our high school were there hanging out as well. It was a cold day and Roger and Dave came hurriedly around the corner towards us, huddled up in coats and trying to stay warm. Dave saw the five or six of us hanging around and instantly invited us in out of the cold.

I had to leave Mom was waiting for mebut we got to make that climb up the stairs from the backstage, walk across the stage where the band members were messing with equipmentthen through the big hall and out the front doors. It was a highlight of my life up to that point.

Years later, when I started my writing career, several of these moments connected and came full circle. I did an extensive phone interview with Belew. While the balcony had hundreds of kids smushed together and barely able to breathe, it seemed like there were only a couple hundred people below us.

Not long after, I made it to the floor-level Cute girl w guy at bogarts then ingles the club was hosting high school cover bands for all-ages shows. The Complaints who also did some originals I really liked were the big band at my high school at the time and I remember the club being packed with teens for their show. The club kept expanding its all-ages policy over the next few years. I remember this show because it was the first time I actually was served beer at the club.

So, of course, we ended up ordering about 20 pitchers of beer throughout the night. My Punk band was added to a few bills by a gracious promoter or fellow local band. I remember being so nervous at those first shows that I could barely play my instrument, partly because I was thinking about all of the famous musicians U2, Prince, R. I ended up playing there many times over the years with various bands opening for bands like New Model Army, Prong, Matthew Sweet and Fugazibut the early shows were the most memorable.

When my first band opened for 7 Seconds, we started to get heckled by a gaggle of skinhe in the crowd we mixed Rap, Funk and Post Punk into our sound, which offended their purist tastes apparently. Our singer started taunting them so they approached the stage; as one started to climb up, I punched my combat boot directly into his face at the lip of the stage.

After our set, the club provided us with a couple of security guards so that we could walk back up and watch 7 Seconds. We were told some skinhe were waiting for us Cute girl w guy at bogarts then ingles, but by the time we got out, they were gone. I even started befriending some of the staff, dating a couple of bartenders and even marrying one. Grohl was road-testing his new group, which you may have heard of rhymes with Doo Righters.

There was period when the staff was almost universally rude, with harsh pat-downs at the door at one point, if you tried to bring in anything that could remotely be considered dangerous — a lighter! A pack of cigarettes! A chain necklace! About 10 years ago, I got an asment from U. During the pat-down, the door person grabbed the pen I needed to take notes and he tossed it into the garbage. I loved the ICP show, by the way.

It was like a surreal circus show gone awry and I had a smile on my face the entire time. Maybe it was a money issue or maybe management felt there was no reason to upgrade, since people were coming anyway. And, besides, where else would they go to see these particular acts?

A few years ago, I remember going to a show and being stunned at how different it was.

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It was right after some upgrades and, while nothing drastic, it changed the whole vibe of the club and the experience. The staff was friendly. The front-door inspections were respectful. The bathrooms were clean. It was suddenly customer-friendly in a way I never remember it being. There have been several hundred. But a few stick out. Another time, when I started my writing career, I had a pre-show interview with the guitarist for Blind Melon at a restaurant next door to the club.

This was when Hillel Slovak who later died from a heroin overdose was still playing guitar with the Peppers a favorite band of mine at the timeand Faith No More featured Chuck Mosley on lead vocals well before Mike Patton took over the mic. Faith No More opened and ran through most of the material from the We Care a Lot and Introduce Yourself albums, its only releases at the time.

Then the band started doing jams and weird covers, playing for well over an hour. Faith No More was clearly vamping and trying to fill time.

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Then, in the middle of a song, four he started weaving towards the stage from the back of the room. The Chili Peppers hopped onto the stage with Faith No More and jumped up and down for a few minutes, then headed backstage. They put on a great, incredibly energetic show they said their tour van — a VW Beetle Bus with bullhorns on the front that my friends and I saw in the parking lot afterwards — broke down on the highway, but we all suspected something drug-related caused the delay. For their encore, the Peppers came out naked except for the tube socks on their dicks part of their schtick at the time and looked nervous as hell, glancing over their shoulders constantly.

The band played one or two short, fast songs and then booked it off stage. Locals were given opening slots for big-time bands often. The aforementioned local Punk shows were always a blast. The club also hosted a couple of benefits for local community radio station WAIF that were a lot of fun, one featuring a ton of local bands playing Christmas songs my band decided to perform in just Christmas underwear — briefs!

I seem to remember The Afghan Whigs taking the slot a few times, too. It has been the one constant, reliable place to check out live music of every sort in Cincinnati ever since I was a teen, and its mid-size has made it possible for mid-level acts to play the Queen City instead of skipping it altogether.

CityBeat celebrates the 40th anniversary of Bogart's with this week's issue. Check out Brian Baker's overview Cover Story on the club's rich history and promising future, plus sidebars on Brian's favorite momentsthe view from John James' nearby record storesPrince's surprise visit in and the infamous Heavy Metal Wheel of Sex.

Mike Breen. Jul 22, 11 AM. Read the Digital Print Issue. The Dish. Want Cincinnati's Latest Food News? Visual Arts. Load More Content.

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