By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
I've been suffering from rock-stars-DJ'ing-the-'80s-hits fatigue, so I went to a party with house DJs who mix records for extended periods of time and don't play anything made earlier than 2004. The February 20 event, thrown by ex-Twilo-ite Mike Bindra's company, Made Event, featured DJ HELL and Wiggle Tour DJs TERRY FRANCIS, EVIL EDDIE RICHARDS, and NATHAN COLES. Unfortunately, there weren't many people who were as psyched as I was. A bouncer at Spirit (né Twilo, now nearly unrecognizable yet very much improved) said only about 500 people were inside. TOMMIE SUNSHINE had just come from Motherfucker and said it was "rammed." Perhaps that was because BLOC PARTYwas headlining the more glamorous Motherfucker party, or maybe it was because there was a raging snowstorm that night, but there was ample room on the dancefloor at Spirit. A few people braved the snow: PETER WOHELSKI, ELLIOT TAUB a/k/a DJ ULYSSES, and DJ THREE, who flipped me off, talked smack about Taub's jacket, which had a terrifying pattern ("It looks like that snakey Rubik's Cube game"), and rubbed it in that he got to go to DAVID MANCUSO's Loft party earlier in the evening and I didn't. ("It was everything that's missing from most of what we usually go to," he sighed.) Maybe I should've flipped him off. Poor DAN SELZER was hidden away in a side area. "Hey, thanks for making me famous!" he said, and pointed to the totally empty room. Anything I can do to help, Dan.
Gal-about-town KENDRA BOROWSKI called Evil Eddie Richards "the KEITH RICHARDS of techno" and promised to take me to BED. The new lounge, not her bed, you perverts. I had been to BED clone Duvet for the L Word season premiere after-party recently, and that made me wanna hang myself. It's in the old Centro-Fly space, and it's such an awful shame that what was once a great dance club doesn't even have a dancefloor anymore and is now a place for rich people to lie around on gargantuan, uncomfortable mattresses in public. Borowski, besides being the local techno maven, is also a publicist for BED, and said that it was better. I told her I'd visit, but only if she wore sexy lingerie while we fed each other chocolate-covered strawberries and they played German minimal techno.
I didn't care that people lounged on beds at JAY-Z's 40/40 Club to watch the final show of the EGO TRIPRace-O-Rama series called "In Race We Lust," which examined interracial dating, because the showfeaturing snappy comments from TALIB KWELI, TIM MEADOWS, and KOOL KEITHwas the funniest damn thing I'd seen in ages. (One segment pitted CHRISTINA AGUILERA against CAMERON DIAZ in a Latina contest.) Props to SACHA JENKINS and his Ego Trip mateshere's hoping they sign you up for more shows.
There weren't any beds at Canal Room, but there was German minimal techno thanks to MICHAEL MAYER and JAKE FAIRLEY at the Robots party, which was thankfully crowded and included Matter/:Form's ELAN AKERMAN, Halcyon's SHAWN SCHWARTZ (will someone just give him a few million dollars to open a non-bed-ridden, proper dance club, already?), DJ PLEXUS, New York magazine's ETHAN BROWN, and New York Timesscribe KELEFA SANNEH, who flashed his K gangsta hand sign to anyone who looked his way. After drunkenly accosting Mayer ("Michael, I love you!" Mayer: "But you don't even know me!") I asked him about an interview by writer ANDY BATTAGLIA disclosing that Mayer makes "minimal pasta" for his staff at Kompakt. I had visions of a plate with just three noodles on it. Turns out minimal pasta is made only with olive oil, mushrooms, and sometimes zucchini. No cheese allowed. If they're getting really crazy, they throw in some garlic and onions. Sounds delish. I'll invite Mayer to BED with Kendra and me.