I don't know where this post should begin or end. Simply put, I'm at a loss. No concurrence of words or memories can quite sum up the way I felt when it was announced that Mohawk Place was shutting its doors a few days ago. I suppose I knew it was coming...I had heard rumors, whispers. Nevertheless, you can't really prepare for this kind of thing. It's like watching a family member die (and I do consider the Mohawk family in a weird way). In your mind you're able to reconcile the fact that you are losing someone close to you, but when it finally happens you realize that no amount of consolation is good enough. Time is the only thing that can heal these wounds...

When I was a teenager in the mid to late 90's, I was obsessed with music (still am, in fact). I would travel to VFW halls to catch local punk bands and, pre-internet promo used to seek out flyers with a tenacious voracity. This was my link to the outside world, a place that was new and exciting, especially for a young suburban kid who didn't get out much otherwise. The shows were usually one-offs and rarely would bands play these venues more than once or twice, either because they weren't asked back or because they had burned their bridges. My 16 year old heart was seeking something more permanent. A place I could call home. Most of the bands I would go see were naive young bucks like myself and were just as clueless as I was, permanently reserved to playing at friends' houses, at churches and at basements, and once they found drugs most of em gave up unfortunately. What I'm trying to say is that I knew an underground existed, but I didn't know where to find it.

I remember my first experience at the Mohawk Place. My homie Ruben and I were skate rats and decided to check out a punk show that night, so we grabbed our boards, and after some downtown shredding, headed over to the spot. Ruben had been going there for a few months and I remember him telling me that this was where the "real" scene was at.

We were greeted at the door by one Pete Perrone, the original owner of the bar. For those not in the know (or maybe just not old enough to remember), Pete was the face of Mohawk before it had one. An older Italian guy, probably in his fifties, and quite possibly the nicest human being I've ever met. More on that in a second.

Walking into the Mohawk was no joke for a teenage kid back in those days. It was intimidating. Not that the Mohawk was ever a dangerous place mind you. It was just, well, different back then. Mohawk was essentially a blues bar at the time that hosted some punk and rock'n'roll bands...but mostly blues. There were a lot of bikers that used to hang out there, and a lot of old blue's musicians. We're talking guys that were well-worn and travelled. There were also a lot of crazy punk rock guys and a fair share of junkies and low-lifes. I don't want to call the place seedy, but it was definitely a denizen for the outcasts. It was the fringe. In fact, I'd say it was the closest thing we had to a bar you'd find in the lower east side circa mid-80's. Of course, some might not agree with that assessment. That's how it felt to me.

Upon entering those old wooden doors, Pete introduced himself to me, possibly recognizing my apprehension in this new place, and we talked for several minutes. He was interested in the fact that I skateboarded and that it was my first time at Mohawk. Instead of turning me away, which was his right seeing as how I obviously wasn't 21, he welcomed me with open arms. He could sense the enthusiasm I had for seeing a punk show that night and told me to enjoy myself. I think the show was the Nickel City Showdown? Jungle Stud, the Stranded, the Baseball Furies and Trailerpark Tornadoes rounded out the bill that night. The show itself wasn't all that crazy. A few drunks were moshing. Nothing too memorable. What did strike me though was the place itself. It had a homely, cozy feel to it. My friend, Brandon, described it best recently when he called it a "punk rock Cheers". It felt like a community, even though I knew no one at the time.

Because a lot of people that read this blog are young, it's important to mention that the Mohawk that you know and love now is not the same Mohawk that some of us grew up with. Mohawk used to be quite tiny. The stage area that exists now was closed off to the general public until the early-mid 2000's. Instead the stage was in the side room on that little platform, and that side room was where you used to watch the bands play. And it would fill up quickly. I remember the Groovie Ghoulies show distinctly and how the place was absolutely overflowing with people. Where the bathrooms are now used to sit a pool table; probably my favorite pool table ever. I tell you these things not to brag about "being there," but simply to give you some historical context. The Mohawk has went through many incarnations.

When I first became a regular, the bar was mainly geared towards rock'n'roll, Americana and rock influenced music. Bobo, Girlpope, the Irving Klaws and the Dollywatchers were tearing it up as were the Big Neck Records bands of the time (The Tyrades being a personal fave). Great touring acts came through on the regular, many of which would find future fame-- see the Donna's or the White Stripes. I'm pretty sure Johnny Thunders played there too which lends you instant credibility in my opinion. I might be confusing that with the Continental though.

At some point in time, Mohawk made the switch from being a bar that hosted shows to being a venue that had a bar. And this was a great thing. It meant more people and more buzz surrounding the place. Of course, it eventually got so busy that it was necessary to change the layout to accommodate the growing audience, hence the bigger stage area and complete overhaul of the back area, including new bathrooms, and extra floor-space. A bit after the change, Pete sold the bar, and I must say it wasn't really the same after he left. I always thought of the Mohawk as his place, even though the bartenders and bookers were integral too (I'm looking at you Bill, Spicoli, etc.) It wasn't worse mind you. Just different.

I've seen too many great shows in that place to list them all. but I do want to touch on a few. Bobo, as I previously mentioned, was THE band to see at the Mohawk a decade ago. Jimmer, with all his cocky swagger, was a rock star on that tiny stage and many of those songs remain embedded in my brain. Agent Orange's free show, aka stage-dive mania, was a highlight as were all the shows that got absolutely bonkers. Cro-Mags, H20, Agnostic Front, TSOL, Sick of It All; any band fused with energy in that place was madness. Of course, there were just as many memorable shows on the mellow tip as well. Jessica Lee Mayfield was a recent highlight for me as was Sleepy Sun. Let's not forget some other great locals either; Chylde, Handsome Jack, the Bloody Hollies had an incredible run, oftentimes with Rochester's Killers, the Priests. The Black Lips in 2008. The Smiths vs. Cure dance parties, Joe Strummer tributes, and Culture Clash events. Hell, my band played there a few times and even though we sucked it was memorable just to say I played the Mohawk. The Rust Belt Revolts. Jungle Stud. Willie Reinhardt and his blues band. Vice Transmission. I could go on and on. And on.

Writing this post is digging up some fond memories for me and it's got me thinking about something. The Mohawk Place isn't just a venue; It's one of our cities greatest treasures. It is part of our soul and it's as much Buffalo as City Hall or the Central Terminal. It is a representation of who we are as Buffalonians; working class people without much money, but good people who enjoy each other's company and can appreciate good music. It is the kind of bar that was meant for us. Nothing too flashy; a dive bar really, but one you could always call home. It was an outskirt's bar for people looking for a bar on the outskirts. A place you had to travel to to know. It has a long legacy and will remembered as one of the all-time greats, right up there with the Continental. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. What does this mean for the music scene? I wish I had the foresight to predict that. All we can do is remember it now and I think that's enough.

This is starting to sound like a really depressing eulogy and I don't want it to so I'll end by saying this: we still have a month and a half to celebrate the life, rather than the death, of Mohawk Place. Get out there and support the bands and the venue. I'm sure there's some shows coming up you'd be interested in seeing. And go check out their FREE final shows January 11 and 12th. It's going to be a who's who of Buffalo greats, past and present and it's going to be a barn burner. Let's send the Mohawk Place off in style. It deserves it.