A smart, sharp, beautiful, successful friend asked me where she could entertain her out-of-towners. Not knowing anything about these tourists I sent her a list of the A-List places. This list included joints as diverse as The Darby, Avenue, Provocateur, Electric Room, Le Bain, Le Baron, and W.i.P. There are of course many other choices and places closer to the edge but as I said they are strangers in a strange land and these felt safe to recommend. After describing each place in a couple of sentences they opted for W.i.P. W.i.P. is satisfying the needs of a downtown art/fashion/mixed crowd that had been forsaken for so long. Their Tuesday night soiree' Dropout continues to service the Post Jackie 60 scene. Tomorrow night in honor of Fashion Week they are offering up the amazing Debbie Harry. I caught up with Dropout honcho and man-about-town Lyle Derek and asked him all about it.

In a recent issue of Brit music mag NME, a 15-year-old music fan wrote in to the letters column earnestly lamenting that in her not-so-humble opinion, compared with the likes of Bowie, Bolan and Robert Smith, the current crop of bands all look like utter shite. Perhaps no one would be better placed to adjudicate such an epic philosophical conundrum than the man who has viewed just about every major rock and pop star through his legendary lens. Indeed, Mick Rock became an icon himself by photographing rock & roll's most mad, bad, dangerous and glamorous gods and goddesses in the 1970s, elevating what was merely a profession to a genuine art form. He remains to this day the music's most in-demand snapper.

For those of you who didn't grow up in the suburbs in the mid 90's, Pete & Pete was essentiually a very understated sitcom aimed at 12 year olds with a warped sense of humor. Needless to say, it was a hit when it originally aired on Nickelodeon from 1993 to 1996 but has since garnered huge cult appeal since it's cancellation, thanks in large part to its lacsidasical storytelling, unforgettable characters, and iconic guest-stars (including Iggy Pop, Blondie's Debbie Harry, and original Batman Adam West). The cast reunited this past weekend for the first time in fifteen years. Want to see what Big Pete and Little Pete look like these days?  

There’s this sign hanging above the southeast corner of Thompson and Bleecker street that goes mostly unnoticed. The sign belonged to the Village Gate and it still has the name of the last performer to play Art D’Lugoff’s pleasure palace. The sign is now landmarked and I’m sure creates confusion for tourists who want to see Penny Arcade perform. The Village Gate was a John Coltrane, Coleman Hawkins, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, Bill Evans, Nina Simone, Herbie Mann , Aretha Franklin, Eddie Palmieri, Dexter Gordon, Dizzy Gillespie, Tito Puente, James Moody, Wynton Marsalis, Bobby Hutcherson kind of place. A benefit for Timothy Leary in 1970 featured performances from Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Allen Ginsberg. Comedians like John Belushi, Chevy Chase, Garry Goodrow and Christopher Guest did their thing at this legendary club. I, along with Leslie Bernard (Clementine, Tillman’s and now the Village Tart) had the honor of doing a club there with Mr D’Lugoff called Peace. I later was given the opportunity to do my club Life there. Today it flourishes as Le Poisson Rouge.

There’s a rumor going around that No Doubt is breaking up over their involvement in the latest Guitar Hero spinoff. While this is clearly a joke, it wouldn’t be the first time a band has broken up over something so trivial. From fast women to fat jokes, numerous bands have fallen apart over petty differences. Not only are many of these breakups downright foolish, but some are also incredibly depressing. So grab a drink and brace yourself.

"It's time to bring it, Kara," I say to the radiant Kara Walker, who needs no prodding, as we freak across the dance floor together on the 45th story of a building overlooking Ground Zero, her metallic silver vest and long black gown flowing from side to side. This isn't exactly where one might expect to find the award-winning art legend. She is flanked on all sides by drag queens in furry fleshtones and assless gear. Nearby, James Franco chats with abstract artist Mark Bradford, while Debbie Harry, the words "Art Sells" displayed across her chest, shares a (probably dirty) joke with filmmaker John Waters, who hosted last night's New Museum Spring (Un)Gala.

A quick scan of the room: Anna Sui, Patricia Field, Gabi from threeASFOUR, Kembra Pfahler, Inez and Vinoodh, Agyness Deyn (radiant in her day-glo sequined Sprouse jacket), and Marc Jacobs all in black with a splash of color from his Sprouse Vuitton leggings. The scene was fittingly neon-hot as the downtown all-stars came out in full force for the opening party for the Stephen Sprouse exhibit at Deitch Projects last night. The show, a mix of his eternally cool punk fashions, towering neon rock ’n’ roll paintings, and a spectacular tableaux of Polaroids, could have held our attention all night.

Last night a DJ saved my life. Marky Ramone, my old friend, was kind enough to display his considerable skills at a party BlackBook threw me at Aspen Social. (Be sure to check out the video.) There were many reasons to be cheerful. First of all, I'm very comfortable with BlackBook. I have been treated like gold and, although the decision to leave JoonBug was difficult, I am very convinced it was the right move. When I asked Marky to deejay, it was because I didn’t want to forget where I came from and wanted him there spinning music that I love in a place my partner Marc Dizon and I created for our friend, Greg Brier. It was a two-and-a-half month build-out after a couple of months of prep -- about half the minimum time usually allocated for such a gig. I’m exhausted and need to thank all the craftsmen and artists who made it possible. Marky pointed out to my beautiful young girlfriend that he's known me for 30 years. I pointed to young Vance Brooking and Mey Bun, budding nightlife stars and funsters, that I was thin like them back then, around a buck thirty-five, and had my hair. Mey said I still got the hair, but I explained how the illusion works.

People that go bump in the night

A devastating virus brought the whole moment to a tragic, unforgettable end. But the legacy that is Robert Mapplethorpe extends far beyond the censorship, headlines—and S&M. As a new generation views his subversive, formalistic Polaroid portraits in an ongoing exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art, Nick Haramis catches up with some of the late icon’s equally illustrious subjects, supporters, chroniclers and partners in crime in an oral history submitted to set the record (mostly) straight.