City Gardens: Trenton's Lost Punk Rock Mecca

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The building seemed to sag against the Trenton sky, its walls leaning in a way that looked both tired and dangerous. I was driving, searching for a lunch spot after a morning spent exploring the city's industrial skeletons, when I saw it. A questionable choice, maybe, but curiosity is a powerful guide. I pulled over. Getting inside was one of the sketchiest entrances I’ve ever attempted. But once my feet were on the dusty floor, the danger faded. An enormous space stretched before me. It was sparse, cleaned out. My footsteps echoed where a stage once stood, a fact I’d later confirm in a NNKH YouTube video about the building’s past life as an underground punk club. The video showed a vibrant scene, an electric place. But the ghosts of that life were mostly gone. The long, rounded bar, where thousands of hands must have slapped down crumpled bills, had vanished. The dust-coated wine and shot glasses that once lined its shelves were gone, too. The club’s glittering crown jewel, a l...
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The Zexor Piece That Defied the Buff




I'll be honest: I wasn't sure how this post would fit into the broader theme of my website. But over the years, I've stumbled across so much incredible work by graffiti artists that it felt wrong not to share it. And this Zexor roller tribute? It demanded attention. Bold, unapologetic, and impossible to ignore, it was the kind of piece that stops you mid-step and forces you to look.


What makes this one especially remarkable is that it's still standing. The small park where it lives has since been renovated and reopened to the general public, and somehow, the NYC Parks Department didn't paint over it during the process. They left it right where it was. That decision, whether intentional or simply overlooked, gives this modest little park a character that most others in the city can only dream of. It stands out. It has a voice. And that voice belongs to Zexor.















I think about moments like these more often than you'd expect. There's one in particular that still nags at me. I was driving toward JFK Airport, heading under an overpass bridge, when I spotted a Zexor tribute painting right under the overpass. It was alive, finished, and raw. I should have pulled over. I should have grabbed a quick photo before the city wiped it clean. But I didn't. And sure enough, it was buffed not long after. If you know anything about the roads leading to New York's largest international airport, you know the city does not play around when it comes to graffiti along that stretch. Anything that goes up comes down fast.


That missed moment taught me something. When you see something worth capturing, you stop. You document it. Because in the world of graffiti, nothing is promised to last.


So consider this a preview of what's to come. There will be more posts about graffiti in the near future, pieces I've encountered up close and personal in places you might not expect. I've spent years admiring this art form in person, from tucked-away underpasses to forgotten walls in industrial corridors, and I'm looking forward to finally sharing more of it here. I hope you enjoy seeing it as much as I have.

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