Even though I’m fortunate enough to have a larger-than-the-usual-size color TV, and I appreciate it for the great drug that it is, there is part of me that will always cherish old black and white movies (and I’ll watch them anytime, forget this late at night business) on television. I don’t think it has a thing to do with nostalgia. (Remember nostalgia?) J prefer the look. The same is true of photographs. I always think the ones in black and white tend to better document, illustrate . . . and on their own are more interesting works of art. In 1969 when Richard Robinson thought seriously about forming a band called Man Ray, in which everyone would wear all black and white and the stage would be adorned with bright white . neon light, I thought it a bit stark. I realize now how right he was.

Those of us who live in New York City and who have attempted to spread the media word about a newly emerging “New York band scene” realize that so far, the scene is still “underground” (remember “underground”?) and minimal. The most dedicated to spreading the word include writers Alan Betrock, Danny Fields, James Wolcott and others; but most of the credit for the existence of this scene must go to CBGB proprietor Hilly, who is the only oi)e to give these bands access to a stage as, they perform regularly at his Boweryfront club. Recent Village Voice articles on CBGB have brought more people down there; I wouldn’t be at all surprised if a New York magazine piece is next, and soon there will conceivably be hordes of the amyl-nitrate popping, slumming, uptown faggot set descending on the small bar at Bleecker and the Bowery. They won’t stay long, though, because it’s only the seriously committed who understand that while currently minimal, this scene could mark an important change in rock ’n’ roll music as we know it today.