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>>djpaulette December 2008: POSTCARDS ABOUT WALL STREET, WATERFALLS, WELLINGTONS, WASHING UP AND MANY OTHER WEIRD, WONDERFUL, WRONG AND JUST PLAIN WONKY WITTERINGS… So much has happened since I last wrote a word that I have decided to write this blog addressing issues in no particular order, otherwise we could be here till next year (ok for sure that is just around the corner but what’s a fortnight between friends, right?) before I even finish writing about May. So it goes that this time I have focused on certain issues that just won’t go away, things that have been bugging the hell out of me and keeping me awake at night and things that, for better or for worse, I will never forget in a hurry. Certain events have been omitted, and others will be covered in separate blogs, more out of respect for those concerned and for space than out of plain forgetfulness. I am a Capricorn and an elephant and much as I would like to, I never forget anything – apart from my PIN number … and my online shopping passcodes which tells you exactly where my priorities really lie, straightaway. 1. Wall Street It is with this in mind that I viewed the Lynn Cosgrave (Cosmack Management) DMC Update interview with the most intense suspicion. Why? Simply because when asked if the credit crunch would affect clubs and clubbing she answered with an emphatic ‘no’. Now I have a very deep respect for Lynn Cosgrave as she (alongside Def Mix’s Judy Weinstein and Yoshitoshi’s Kurosh Nasseri) has been one of the keystones in building the fortress we know as house music, international clubbing and of course, the ‘international touring djs’ star system. For sure she is also one of the people who has been instrumental in elevating the art and the status of DJs so that DJ’ing has become the dream job that it is today. This respect aside, I thought that her comment was flippant and misguided, at best short sighted and at worst a ‘don’t disturb the nervous horses’, tightly-blinkered vision. I would wager that if the truth serum was readily administered, from the cheap seats up to the prestigious royal boxes, that there really aren’t many clubs who can report a massive week-on-week increase in their gross takings for 2008. For sure I am not even on the lowest rung of the freewheeling, superstar merry-go-round but I read the newspapers and magazines in two languages and even I can clearly see the domino effect that the credit crunch is having on clubs and clubbers alike. Post smoking ban, mid-credit crunch clubs, which in 2006 and 2007 were doing fantastically well weekly, are regularly struggling to maintain the same, consistent monthly level not just of hedonism but of door take in 2008. Most clubs (when they are not selling themselves off or closing) are seriously tightening their budgets, concentrating on the big names, preferring to book producers over djs in the hope that the extra publicity surrounding a single release will fill the club for them and offering less incentives to clubbers along with the ticket price in order to reduce the break even margins. How can it be possible that these changes are only visible from the ground up? There is simply no point in sticking our heads in the sand, like it or not, clubland is in crisis as is the music industry as is the media. Sooner or later we will all feel the effects in our wallets and see the effects in the variety of nights out that are on offer, so wouldn't it be more honest if we admitted that this was the case and then started thinking about more creative solutions than just packing up and selling on? 2. Waterfalls – Olafur Eliasson Expectations were high. I arrived in New York late on Wednesday night and stayed up super late talking like you do so Thursday day was a jetlagged blur. Thursday night was spent trolling around Manhattan nightspots with Georgina (dinner and cocktails at Soho Grand, drinks and dancing at The Living Room, cheap drinks at Wicked Willies Karaoke and taking the Path home to Jersey City. Friday morning was spent more than a lot hung-over and pathetically watching the rain fall fiercely from Georgina’s bedroom window. Friday afternoon was spent short spurt shopping and shlepping around the Village, in Manhattan bookshops, boutiques, the Apple store and in Jersey Mall and all in distinct avoidance of scattered showers or as the Americans call it “Sprinkles”. Afro hair and Sprinkles (or pissing down with fleety, floaty, flighty rain as I like to call it) do not mix. Look at the pictures and wouldyajustlookatmyhair!!!!!! Friday night was spent drying my hair and bones out and watching Obama and Mc Cain go head to head in their first debate with Claudia, Sohrab (Ginger and Rover too) on their enormous flat screen TV. Are you getting the picture yet? Saturday was spent discussing the debate with all and sundry, lunching and shopping and spending quality time with Claudia in Brooklyn and drinking champagne in readiness for Saturday night’s party vibes and Claudia love-in. Saturday night was spent celebrating Claudia’s birthday at a lovely restaurant in ??? and getting down with our bad selves to Nickodemus who was spinning at a disco in a Chinese restaurant in …. Which also says a lot about the night, right? . Consequently, the first time I caught a mere glimpse of one of the waterfalls was when we crossed Brooklyn Bridge on the way home on Sunday morning. Maurice Bernstein (Giant Step CEO) couldn’t see what all the fuss was about and cited eco-system disturbance and waste of taxpayers money as just argument. I said – ‘they are 40 metre man made waterfalls made in accordance with and as a reflection of the urban surroundings and that use a complex filtration and water recycling pump system to avoid eco-system disturbance’. End of argument. You have to hate a Capricorn when they defend anybody’s rights. We are such know it alls when we want to be, right? Still, expectations were getting higher. Sunday was spent enjoying the Louis Bourgeois exhibition at the Guggenheim Museum and sharing a pizza and cocktails at the Maritime Hotel with Heather. The weather still wasn’t perfect waterfall weather and since Georgina was sick we planned to do the waterfalls on Monday evening as a bold, ‘farewell Manhattan’ gesture before I left. Are you getting this picture yet? Then get this … Monday morning – I glanced bleary-eyed at my ticket, looked at the day’s date, looked at my ticket again, looked at the date, looked cleary-eyed at my suitcase which was incidentally spewing its contents all over the floor, looked at my belongings which were occupying the best part of half of the room and THEN LOST IT BIG TIME. How could I be so wrong??? I was leaving TODAY! Not Tuesday !!!! Cue ‘mad-dog with a tin-can tied to its tail, running around, uselessly and ineffectively trying to pack in my head but getting absolutely nowhere in real life’ panic for a good half hour … Then the calm. Then the plan. I definitely deserved my ‘I’m packed, organised and pleased with my plan for the day’ hot oats celebratory breakfast. Off I trotted to say a tearful goodbye to my niece, to take the laptop battery back to the Apple shop and then decide to keep it, then hop in a taxi to South Shore Seaport to take the boat tour around the Eliasson Waterfalls before leaving. Everything went swimmingly until I got to the front of the queue to buy my ticket for the boat. What did the curious sign ‘No Water Until 5pm’ mean? Was this an existential statement. Was this a new byelaw? Was this a pigging joke??? It had to be, right? But no – it was the truth. The waterfalls only ran with water if the weather was fine and showed no sign of storm or heavy rains. Today had storm warning written all over it so, once again, today was not my lucky day. Who cared that I had travelled all the way to New York, made plan after plan after plan and got as far as phoning ahead for availability and times, getting a taxi and then buying my ticket in person on site and was just about ready to board the boat and still didn’t see the waterfalls in action! For sure I saw the waterfalls but I did not see their waters fall. I took lots of pictures of them but you’ll be forgiven in thinking that they look like scaffolding under a bridge because, despite there being good reason for this in terms of gaining authorization, licensing and insuring the oeuvre and in terms of their structure, that’s essentially what they were without the water or LED lights running through them … Of course this just added gravitas to my later analyses in that the waterfalls were ecologically and structurally sound becauzzzzzzzzzzzzz … 3. WELLINGTONS For sure our American friends are extreme at the best of times, but breaking out Wellingtons when not even a good inch of water has fallen had my mouth flapping open like an unfastened satchel for the duration of my stay. If these people ever book a weekend away in Manchester I recommend that they bring their Karl Lagerfeld multi-tasking workman belt and enough wood, nails and a hammer to build their own personal ark… toughen up and get real, you pussies (and don’t forget to book a chiropodist’s appointment for your oncoming Athlete’s Foot disorder)! I considered buying a pair of Marc by Marc Jacobs wellies for the ultra bargain, boutique just opened but could also be a boutique just closing clear out price of $25 along with a military looking olive K-way that had no distinguishing Marc By Marc Jacob’s marks on it too but thought better of it. Marc Jacobs or no Marc Jacobs, a K-way is a K-way and wellies are wellies and both will always strangely remind me of having my tights unceremoniously yanked down and being held over a grid to pee in public when I was little. I have clearly been psychologically scarred by this recurring childhood trauma. Still, if it snows of course … 4. WET WEATHER I didn’t sleep well the night before. I never sleep well when I have an early flight, so guess who was a grumpy git when the flight was delayed? It was ‘expected’ to be delayed an hour but three and a half hours and a €4.50 sandwich voucher later the plane showed its not-so-Easyjet colours. I really don’t like or enjoy Easyjet flights at the best of times, the queuing system is always a bazaar, a free-for-all that even though they try and impose a seating order, she who can run across the tarmac faster or politely nudge granny off the steps and elbow mr businessman in the ribs first is always entitled to the better seat. Add a three hour delay into the mix and you have a recipe for a full on revolution. The queue was like an open audition for Les Miserables! Once on board, the (now very) bored and extremely cranky / hungry / just plain annoying babies (and there were many) were in full lung-busting form and screamed for 2 and a half hours straight. Not even my laser eye stare stopped one kid from vomiting over the back of the seat on the trousers of the unrelated passenger behind. That was, however, pure class since it was done behind the back of a tired and unwitting mother. Two and a half hours later I landed disheveled in Tangier only to hear that it had been raining for two days but was expected to stop today. I was hopeful: even though the floor was still wet, the sky was dry so there really was hope. Two hours later, hope went on strike and we witnessed a thunderstorm and tempest the level of which shook the windows, doors and floors of the hotel and submerged everything in a matter of seconds. I normally love thunderstorms when the light show is that impressive and when the thunder badly needs a limiter but when I am working it gives me the biggest sinking feeling. It is so hard to entertain people when they are wet and need drying out and cheering up before you can even warm them up, so I had my work cut out for me. I needed the umbrella to walk the three metres to the car from the hotel. The drive to the club took us along roads so flooded that we needed an outboard engine to motor us across. Some of the key roads into and out of the centre of town were closed, so it wasn’t surprising that the turnout for the night was hit hard. I have to be honest here – if I hadn’t have been working I wouldn’t have left the house either. It was cold, miserable and wet like nothing I have experienced or seen all year. It’s not like you’re partying in a major western city where these things go unnoticed, here we had a power cut in the middle of the resident DJs set. For sure it was quickly rectified but the biggest respect and thanks goes to all the people who danced, asked for autographs, stuck it out, braved the weather and partied as hard and as long as they could at The Loft. You are all completely mental and I love you for it. |