I’ve been busy as a B-list promoter these days. It’s Good Friday and I see no reason not to make it great. Tonight I should be cloned, as two “must attend” events are happening at the exact time. I will attend the Limelight film premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival. I was interviewed about a year and change ago for the flick, and I hope I am portrayed correctly. I was assured that I am, but I have been divorced a couple of times, and my reliance on assurances have diminished.
It is absolutely a matter of truth or consequences, but again I am assured, and I’m feeling happy that I got involved in the Limelight story. Fools have been telling the story for far too long, and innuendo and rumor have passed as reality. I hope the record is set straight. I will attend with Amanda by my side to hold my hand through it all. I salute my dear friend Jen Gatien for her dedication to the cause. Peter Gatien, I am told, will not be allowed into the country to attend. He isn’t allowed here, and I’m not allowed in Canada. I win.
What I am missing, but you absolutely should not, is catching Los Vigilantes at the Cake Shop on Ludlow street tonight at 9. I caught them last night at the Bell House in Gowanus. They opened for the Flaming Groovies. The Groovies were cool, old-school rockster-y, and attracted a crowd that I mingled with 20 years ago at CBGB’s. Los Vigilantes are a powerful Puerto Rican punk act. The acts didn’t go well together. It was like having the Ramones open for Fleetwood Mac. The Cake Shop show will be a better fit. The Cake Shop has so few redeeming qualities that it’s almost perfect. The place is dirty, the stage is way too small and too low, and the sound is, at best, mixed—or maybe it wasn’t. The staff is particularly unfriendly and I want to wash off the bottom of my shoes when I get home. It is soooo much fun! I saw another Puerto Rican Punk act, Davila 666, there on Thursday and was blown away. Their en Espanol version of Blondie’s “Hanging On The Telephone” was irreverent and brilliant. It was déjà vu all over again as I felt like I was at a punk club in the East Village in 1981. People were pogo-ing themselves into a frenzy. Davila 666 is playing Knitting Factory out here in Brooklyn, and they are a sure thing. I will déjà vu all over again after I attend, again. Puerto Rican punk is my new favorite thing. The whole gang will be at Bruar Falls this Saturday night for the after party with DJ FFrenchy and DJ Spick Jagger of Davila 666. Yes, it’s like that.
I noticed that the Hubble telescope is turning 2, and therefore is legal to get into bars and clubs in NYC. That is when it’s done fooling around. I also noticed that Captain David Miller, the cop who basically closed down the West Chelsea club scene, is assigned to the Orchard/Ludlow/Rivington street area. I also noticed that every place I go to these days down there is ID’ing my ridiculously tired, obviously over 40/50 year-old ass. I fear the worst. Expect vacancies and loss of business as the city sanitizes nightlife like we’re bedbugs at Bloomberg’s mansion. If I’m right, the city will lose more jobs, and our culture will be less rich. Ironically, the Gallery Bar was closed down because a bouncer allegedly took a bribe to let an underage patron in. I read an article the same day that said cops, as unbelievable as this may sound, fixed parking tickets for VIP’s, including Yankee baseball executives. Shocking! Cops taking bribes? Why isn’t the stadium shuttered? Or the precincts, themselves? This isn’t a double standard: this is persecution.