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This venue is closed.

The chalk outlines that used to make frequent appearances on this stretch of asphalt may have long since faded, but Crime Scene pays homage to the nabe's former grit with lots of yellow police tape and hardly a whiff of irony. Populated by black-hoodied NYU bass players, scuffed bike messengers, and a few longhairs teetering on too-old-for-hardcore, the place is raucous on weekends but semi-quiet otherwise (save for radio alt-rock booming from the amps). The motif can be hard to take seriously—a sort of Taxi Driver-era New York upgraded for Friends-era comfort—and it’s unlikely you'll find any CBGB-regulars in here once the Bowery's completed its transformation to lilac-fresh. No matter. Quick bartenders, a tasty house ale, a pool table, and the cavernous space make the spot a good flashpoint for the city's latest arrivals. — Will Doig