The Don Hill saga continues to get stickier. Rumors and innuendo have become accusations, as unpaid employees left unpaid are increasingly motivated to find a way get paid. I was told that the loot set aside to pay employees was being used to pay huge outstanding debts, like rent and purveyors, and that parties were taking money out of accounts faster than could be put in to pay staff.
In my day, staff money or payroll was put in a separate, untouchable account. According to my source, settlements for unpaid wages were offered—though a small percentage. Fingers are being pointed at every bold-faced name, and words like “thief” and “forgery” are being bounced around. I have heard the word “forgery” twice now, and that is disconcerting. Poor old Don Hill is not around to smile and make it right, so the story keeps going. A close friend even speculated that this whole financial affair—the bursting of the bubble—directly led to his untimely demise.
One former employee told me:
“Every night I worked the place was packed and the bar was doing well. They made a conscious decision to not pay their staff. I personally don’t care why the club closed. An employee is not a bill. I never made an agreement to loan Nur and the gang my services. Where were you born?”
The last part the “Where were your born part” was a result of my defending Nur and Paul Sevigny’s role in the affair, and of course their liability. I left off a great deal of the vitriolic stuff because, after all, children have access to this column. The employee then asked me to help them find a lawyer, and concluded with “anyway, I am devoting my life to this until I am reimbursed.” Speaking of Rock and Roll, Friday night I DJed Luke Brian Sosnowski’s birthday bash. The White Noise co-owner’s bash is one where no one asked me to play GaGa, Jay- Z or Rhianna. White Noise is, of course, a house of Rock and Roll, so there was no need to cart any House tracks either. There is a purity to White Noise’s format, which was obtained in a very short time. They make it look as easy as putting on a leather jacket, uncombing your hair, and finding a cool T-shirt to wear. Friday, the joint was banging, and a state of nirvana was attained (the feeling not the dead band), and you didn’t have to sit in a lotus position or go vegan for a bunch of decades to get there. I went on between 12:30AM and 2AM, joining the regular Friday night DJs including the legendary Michael T., and the fabulous and eloquent Samuel Valentine. Their Friday night soiree is called “The Wild Ones” and according to Sam…
“It is the only rock party in NYC at the moment, that showcases Rock N’ Roll music from the legends to brand-new artists. People enjoy this party in many different ways. For example some girls like to get on the bar and dance, others come to chat, meet new people with similar interest in fashion and music, find that hot rocker to take home, and there are the ones that come to rock out to the music and get wasted. NYC needed to have a rock party with a more modern approach to it rather than concentrate in resurrecting acts that are no longer around all night. Come with an open mind to hear some hits you love, and some new tracks yet-unheard of, which we think you should love as well.”
Check out the images below by Jes Leppard: