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

HE WEARS A black hoodie to protect himself from the cold rain. The baby-faced guy is Dominican, probably in his early twenties. He rushes by me at the Graham Avenue L train entrance, pauses and asks, “Matt?” I nod. He leads me down the stairs, examines me silently. Once he’s satisfied that I’m not a threat, he takes $30 from my left hand and pushes a sealed bag of Cheez Doodles into my right jacket pocket. Without another word, he splits for the opposite staircase and races back above ground. I check my watch. It’s 6:30 on a Saturday night under a busy Williamsburg intersection, and I’ve just scored three bags of “Nike” heroin, all hidden inside a re-sealed bag of chips. Read more Read it in print

With the stock market inching upwards and talk of economic recovery in the air, Paris Hilton and her retinue made an appearance last Thursday at the opening of Bowlmor Lanes’ new nightclub Carnival, consisting of hastily erected plywood kiosks and games like ring toss, high striker, hoop dreams and a dunk tank. Pink cotton candy and a fairground tent almost completed an antiseptic State Fair simulacrum. But a platoon of large white men in black suits fanned out through the room—knocking with their big bellies customers who came too close to the VIPs. Read more

The newest incarnation of the synth-pop chanteuse—a trend that still reigns supreme in clubland—is Nomi Ruiz, a well-proportioned 24-year old who emits orgasmic moans over gloomy harmonies set down by her band, Jessica 6. On Tuesday night, the trio crammed onto The Box’s small stage with some horns and strings to perform its trademark “dark disco” in honor of the new EP, Fun Girls. Read more

Gotta cigarette?Thats one of the lines rent boys used to pick up their tricks on the block53rd and 3rdduring the 1960s, 70s and 80s. In 1968, when photographer Leee Black Childers arrived in New York from Kentucky, the soft-spoken boy was approached on the street by a woman wearing a big blonde wig, fake eyelashes and 6 platform boots. Read more Read it in print

Last Thursday night, American Literature died of acute cardiopulmonary arrest at a book party held at the powerHouse Arena for Nick Douglas' Twitter Wit. Read more

TWENTY-SIX MINUTES after last call on August 23, a loud pop sent a wave of jitters through the weekend drunks, bouncers, desperate lonely-hearts and wide-awake cokeheads hanging out on the Avenue A strip between East 12th and 14th streets. Just as they settled back into their cigarettes and drawn-out good-byes, another bang! rocked them. Read more Read it in print

On Friday night, a “Slacktivist” protest took place in front of that famously polarizing symbol of gentrification, Christodora House located on East 9th Street and Avenue B.The two cops as Read more

TO UNDERSTAND THE eerie conception behind Richard Hell’s new project, Destiny Street Repaired, a stirring re-execution of his late band the Voidoids’ flawed 1982 album, you need to go way back in time. In the closing days of the mid-1960s, Richard Meyers, a fatherless 17-year-old high school dropout came to New York from Kentucky on a Greyhound bus. He was itching to make it as a poet.You can picture him—a cardboard suitcase in his hand—moving apprehensively out of Port Authority into the bright lights and big holiday crowds of Times Square. Read more Read it in print

On Sunday afternoon, a few dozen ashen-faced night owls,—looking for a respite from 90-degree temperatures—took to the beach. They plopped themselves, fully clothed, onto striped lounge chairs and stayed there for hours drinking free PBR. Daniel James, a tattooed nightlife promoter, flipped burgers on a big grill. Showing off bedbug-bitten legs, a girl splashed into the water alone, bouncing a beach ball. “Come on in guys, the temperature’s perfect,” she said, eliciting only confused stares from three tattooed friends. Read more Read it in print