I had the great pleasure of working in a million capacities within LPR close to a million hours a week for about half a year. Sometimes you’ll still catch me swindling the clipboard outside hollering for you to pull our your ID.
Anyway, I’m ridiculously proud of the club’s efforts in New York’s cultural scope. Where the hell else will you see a sit-down classical Chinese orchestra, gritty DC straight edge punk band and prose reading series all in one night? It’s a special place and this week LPR celebrates five years in kicking ass.
Cheers. Wish I was there to slam Jameson in brotherhood with y’all tonight.
Williamsburg bridge. Brooklyn on left, Manhattan on right, and the lights stop directly in the middle of the bridge. Manhattan is still dark. (at North 5th St Pier)
This is all very fucking creepy. Related, here’s an incredibly useful tool to search current status on various NYC public transit.
Also related, my sister is in labor with my first “real” nephew right now and I can’t go hang with her in the Western Mass hospital because I am trapped in Brooklyn.
I wrote what’s essentially an open love letter to Peanut Butter Wolf for VICE. It’s also kind of an account of his pairing with Nite Jewel to pretend to be Kraftwerk.
Lee took me to catch BLDP at Piano’s Friday night. He promised a dance party and he didn’t lie. The font for the band name leaves something to be desired but whatever. This BK-based crew commands the stage and audience in a fun, sweaty way—and I thought I was completely burnt out on electric dance-pop. See ‘em live if you get the chance.
Monday night at Fluxblog’s 10th birthday party, Amanda Petrusich talked about this song. She related it to the shitty first year everybody experiences when settling in New York City. She touched on how the city tarnishes a young person’s sunny, high expectations and how fucking lonely it gets. But then it’s like this amazing victory, surviving a full 365 days in the grimy jowls of NYC. You get hardened but you get smarter—you hope at least. You adjust to everything smelling like pee.
New York dragged a razor blade across my optimism and threw my emotions into a dirty freezer. It’s surprised me, too, and kicked my ass to write the most I ever have. It’s also granted a crop of really amazing people with whom I get to hang.
In five days I celebrate my first anniversary with this absolutely crazy city.
