Peaches & Screams

I did the door at the Dos Equis/?uestlove/Mirrorball event last night down on Broad Street in the Financial District. Broad Street proved to be not broad enough, as an army of hipsters, dipsters, scenesters, and clubsters filled the famous lane and spilled into neighboring streets. The actual event space was filled to capacity by 10:30p.m., a half hour after doors opened to the masses. If the "Most Interesting Man in the World" indeed showed up, he didn't get close to the place. For me it was all crowd control while security guards and New York's finest and bravest cleared the legions from the street and eventually the space, which included a huge bank and the prestigious Claremont Preparatory School. Nobody seemed to be prepared for the turnout. I screamed at friends Amy Gunther and 1Oak's Adam Alpert, who got close but no cigar to getting in. Adam took my intern and her friends to 1Oak for a good time instead.

While the officials were dispersing all, I got a grand tour of the event space. Floor after floor of performers, strange instruments, and decorations had transformed the saccharine prep school into absolute Mardi Gra-like mayhem. Pockets of revelers were being screamed at by security to leave while my VIP host showed me around. Classrooms had giant naked martial arts teammates hustling to get their belongings and leave, DJs wrapped up computers and Case Logics, and the massive swimming pool was being cleared of rubber ducks and party favors. We ascended to the roof, where I played basketball with a gal in a black A-line dress and high heels. She kicked my ass. The fire marshal politely explained to the organizer that although he was very sorry he had to close the place down, it wasn’t suited for a huge gathering of people like this. He explained that there wasn’t a cabaret license and that he had to clear the room. That cabaret license thing is what separates the gymnasium parties and lounges from the clubs. The license means that proper egress is established for patrons, fire alarm systems that automatically call the fire department are installed, there are trained people on staff to deal with emergencies, and flashing lights go on while the music is automatically turned off when trouble occurs. There are many more safety precautions involved with obtaining this difficult-to-get, necessary, but often ignored license. I told my remaining staff and friends to head to a real club, and I moved on to Lit with a Parisian BlackBook intern and his beautiful and mysterious special friend.

Lit was consumed with cool. The amazing Peaches was celebrating the Bicycle Film Festival, and she was to DJ along with Colin Bailey of Drums of Death. Colin co-produced her last album, I Feel Cream, on XL-Beggar’s Banquet Records. I caught her set, a decidedly wonderful drum ‘n bass offering. I wasn’t a fan of drum ‘n bass until last night. Hanging at the beautifully raw basement of Lit with this so-beyond-hipster crowd, I believed in everything I love about this town. My little posse of Frenchsters agreed that this was the reason to be in New York City. It was a moment, a reason to be cheerful, a reason to believe that not only has the recession lessened but in its wake a new kind of fun was thriving in the bowels of joints like Lit. It was, for me, in those immortal words of Yogi Berra, “Deja vu all over again.” I felt like back in the day when I learned my lessons in uber-cool basements inches form this East Village hang.

Earlier in the day I was on camera being interviewed about the trials and tribulations of my dark past. It was the first time I had been allowed to really tell my story in regards to that time as cameras rolled and intelligent and informed questions were shot at me. I felt relieved as I walked home glancing at where Club 82 once lived on East 4th Street. The scene outside the gay bars on lower 2nd Avenue and on the street in general was fun and vibrant. I stopped at the deli and got some Haagen Dazs and headed home to pet the puppies, chanting, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!” My afternoon on-screen chat had gotten a few demons off my chest, and I was feeling ... well, peachy.

Please remember Monday’s uber important Nightlife Preservation Community event at M2 with Q-Tip, Paul Sevigny, Junior Vasquez, The Misshapes, Louie Vega, Marky Ramone, and a dozen more talented DJs helping nightlife survive an era of repression. Chloë Sevigny will host; check www.nightlifepreservation.com for free tickets.