In a town full of skyscrapers, it’s often what’s happening beneath the sidewalk that ends up being the most exciting. Hidden spaces—think SubMercer, the basement of La Esquina or the late, lamented Undochine—are black gold in New York's over-saturated nightlife scene. A hard-to-find, little-known location with the right music and crowd can become an overnight sensation, and if a group of people just above 14th Street play their cards right, they might have New York’s next one on their hands. Read more

The kids were in costumes ranging from Santa Claus to a two-man electric outlet, but the room was hot and they were listless. Glum is the new glam. Had the Bushwick boys and girls ran out of meds? Tall, lean, leatherbooted Susanne Oberbeck. Read more Read it in print

Glum is the New Glam “No more tonic water!” the costumed cutie purred from behind the makeshift bar. Shit! I was partying in the United States of Bushwick: no direct train without shuttle Read more

Every aspect of Horror-Bowl— the Josh Wood-produced Halloween party—from the hard-to-find location (Lucky Strike on 12th Avenue) to the drinks ($10 beers and $15 shots) to the fur-clad clipboard holder at the door, was off putting. Read more

Upon arriving at 3rd Wards new space, an old factory at 573 Metropolitan Avenue in Williamsburg, I was hit with the realization that I had been there before. At the tender age of 19, I rode the finicky industrial elevator to the fourth floor to an illegal loft with a killer view. The last time I had been there I was naked and high, and now, nine years later, I was ready to see what the building had to offer me. Of course, it was dick. Read more Read it in print

I was strolling east in Tompkins Square Park on a perfect autumn day, enjoying the sundappled urban vista in the heart of the Lower East Side, when I heard the lovely voice of a young woman. “My pussy is magic, my pussy is magic, my pussy is magical!” The leggy Jessica Delfino gestured toward her crotch, fetchingly attired in a violet-checked frock with glossy white pantyhose and vinyl gogo boots. Don’t you love that schoolgirl ’60s drag? Read more

Celebrating his 64th birthday Friday night at Giorgio Gomelsky’s Chelsea loft space, legendary rock photographer Bob Gruen decided getting old was a hell of a lot better than turning 21. “I have a lot more friends now,” he said, “and I’m going to stay out a lot later.” Read more

As an overgrown teenager who can never get enough ruffles or lace, I was ridiculously excited to go see Betsey Johnson receive the Medal of Honor for Lifetime Achievement in Fashion at a dinner party thrown by the National Arts Club. Read more Read it in print

To be technical about it, I didn’t actually eat lunch with Lydia Lunch. But we met at lunchtime, just the two of us, ladies who don’t lunch on the rooftop of her friend’s five-story walk-up in Chelsea. She’d just finished a photo shoot with Richard Kern, who years back directed her in erotic films like The Right Side of My Brain and Fingered. Read more

“Who’s No Age?” asked Catherine Keener. The actress was at the Museum of Modern Art’s PopRally party, “An Evening of Skateboard Videos with Spike Jonze and Patrick O’Dell,” held in conjunction with the current film exhibition Spike Jonze: The First 80 Years. No Age, of course, was the musical talent for the evening, but Keener, who stars in Jonze’s Where The Wild Things Are, wasn’t really having it. “I’m just here to celebrate my good friend Spike!” Fair enough. Read more