Repeal brought new problems. Drinkers wanted more room and more air. A dozen years of small, smoky dives caused claustrophobia. In 1933, they welcomed the big, roomy, hotel grills and Broadway cafés. Of the 50-odd blind pigs in 52nd Street, between Fifth and Sixth, only two remained. But those two have become national institutions. By far the most famous cabaret night club in the country is Leon & Eddie's, at 33 West 52nd Street. It started in 1929 as a narrow, dingy speak, directly across the street from its present premises, at No. 18, now part of Rockefeller Center. The 21 Club, next door to Leon & Eddie's, technically is a restaurant, not a night club, inasmuch as only food and liquor are served; no show or music. A history of the 21 parallels the decline of society, about which more in a succeeding chapter. Its proprietors, former speakeasy operators, came to be considered arbiters of high fashion. It was supposed to be a great honor to be permitted to enter their saloon. And if one of the bosses deigned to talk to you, it was regarded by many as equal to being a box-holder at the Metropolitan Opera. When one of them (Jack Kriendler) got scorched in the papers, however, it was over a mess with a middle-aged Long Island matron, and the whole town howled with the anticlimax of it all. Kriendler died at the early age of 48. His funeral, attended by top names, was the social event of the season. Though most of 52nd Street's gin joints folded and died in 1933, the thoroughfare did not lose its essential character as an entertainment avenue. People were used to it, the traffic advantages remained, and it was near to the Music Hall, Broadway and the East Side. Many of the undercover locations blossomed out under new management, and with new decorations, as intimate night clubs. Leon & Eddie's already had moved across the street and already was famous. But in a little room, over near Sixth Avenue, called the Onyx, something happened that set the street for all time to come. The Onyx was a musicians' hangout. It seated about 50, specialized in hot licks played by a small pick-up band, headed by two nimble lads named Farley and Riley. They had written a gag song called "The Music Goes Round and Round." It was unpublished, but by request they played it eight or ten times a night at the Onyx, and many of the musicians who came in to relax joined in the jam sessions and played it with them. The song was finally published and became one of the top freaks of all times. Its chief result, however, was to firmly establish 52nd Street as Swing Lane. Through the years since then, dozens of clubs have come and gone on the street, with Leon & Eddie's and 21 the only prominent ones to remain through it all. Yet it's still known as Swing Lane. During the past few years its complexion has been changing, as more and more smaller swing spots have begun to specialize in Negro entertainers and bands.