Multimillion-dollar superclubs are so passé. A week after Sound Factory got busted under the Rave Act, Volume, the no-frills warehouse in Brooklyn, busted out with another big event, last week’s KOMPAKT show. I mean, who needs a fancy bathroom with a sink, or a real bar—not two folding tables set up on either side of the room that tend to run out of crucial beverages, like water? Well, me for starters.
In the side room while SOUNDMURDERER killed it with old-skool jungle, someone actually uttered the phrase “Where’s my lighta kru!” That, the smell of a certain garden plant, the bright flashing visuals, and the boys with phat pants break-dancing led to the overwhelming, unshakable feeling that I was attending a rave—minus the happy drugs. And I was greatly confused: Since the same 20 people have been going to the city’s techno parties for the past four years, I looked at the ample crowd going bananas and wondered, “When did minimal German techno become so popular? Who are these people?”
We were v. pissed to learn that while we were standing in a puddle of godknowswhat at Volume, we could have been at Deitch Projects in Soho dressed like an adult and watching ADAM DUGAS croon away inside artist ADAM KALKIN‘s suburban house for a show modeled after Playboy After Dark. Instead of rubbing shoulders with sweaty, terminally adolescent boys, we could have rubbed shoulders with LEELEE SOBIESKI, SEAN LENNON, and VINCENT GALLO, watched performances by AMI GOODHART, the DAZZLE DANCERS, VIVA RUIZ, and JULIE ATLAS MUZ, and gotten a glimpse of the brand-new FISCHERSPOONER fantasia. Live musicians joined the usual characters VANESSA, STEPHANIE, and GIA. CASEY SPOONER, Dugas’s hunky BF, even belted ’em out live, instead of lip-synching. “Casey took voice lessons and sounds great!” Adam reports. Does this mean the end of irony?
Let’s talk about COURTNEY LOVE. (Really, why bother talking about anything else?) She got all punk rock at Plaid last Wednesday and threw a mic stand into the crowd, apparently injuring a 24-year-old guy, and then, as we all know, got her ass arrested for reckless endangerment. After the show, the club pulled the classic bait-and-switch, putting the police car on the side door where all the photographers camped out waiting for the big reveal. Instead, what they got was a decoy in the form of her hottie blonde guitar player wearing a hat and skulking off to the limo with the rest of the band. Some of the photogs bought it anyway, even though (a) many of us were shouting, “That’s not her!” and (b) who gets arrested and rides to police headquarters in a limo? Duh. She went out the front door in cuffs.
The singer was supposed to have flown back to L.A. on Friday morning, but rocker and Rated X promoter THEO said Courtney was “having so much fun,” she decided to stay over the weekend. That’s interesting—the last time I checked, getting arrested was not considered top on the list of fun things to do when visiting New York. Alas, we were all deprived of further episodes of the Courtney Love Show when she didn’t turn up at Saturday’s Rated X party at Opaline as expected. Theo says that Courtney “was advised not to go out by her ‘people.’ ” Good advice—couldn’t have come any sooner, really.
After the whole Courtney fiasco, I needed to cleanse all the crazy karma, so I was looking forward to my first-ever Body & Soul bash. Unfortunately, chasing Miss Love made me literally sick, so I missed the shebang, once again. Voice editor and original disco critic VINCE ALETTI went and shook his groove thang, reporting that the triad of DJs, FRANÇOIS KEVORKIAN, DANNY KRIVIT, and JOE CLAUSSELL, kept it real with classics. The party felt very Loft-like, courtesy of DAVID MANCUSO and his trademark balloons as well as the presence of DAVID MORALES and old skoolers MICHAEL GOMES and JUDY WEINSTEIN on the dancefloor. One friend kept unintentionally rubbing it in, calling every 10 minutes and asking if I was absolutely sure that I couldn’t come down, because “there’s a line around the block” and “it’s off the hook” and “everyone’s going crazy” and “I remember why I love house music.” Thanks, pal. I feel so much better now!
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