ROCK BE HURTIN'
So my latest issue of Spin arrived in the mail today - despite my having wished that subscription out of existence years ago - and somewhere between the revelatory U2 feature and the 10 Most Influential Albums of All Time According to The Moody Blues' Keyboard Player, I resign myself to a profile of New York's Most In-Demand Rock Club Door Man (I joke not). The photo shows an expensively trashy Robert Smith-esque Williamsburg hipster type (though with much flatter hair and overweight) whose skill at working the velvet rope is apparently legendary in New York rock circles.
That velvet ropes and highly discriminatory door policies have instituted themselves at trashy rock venues may strike some of you who have been broke at home watching Six Feet Under repeats for the past two years as slightly queer, and I count myself among you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it has always been my understanding (am I dating myself here?) that those who gravitate to the underground rock scene tend to do so as a reaction against the slickness and snobbery (and expense) of exclusive clubs with velvet ropes and stringent door policies. Now I've never cared for the whole Williamsburg electroclash movement because it always struck me as too retro and lacking originality. I did however respect the rediscovery of fun and dance-ability within rock, and welcomed the long-overdue reconciliation with the ghost of disco. It even seemed like a great idea rediscovering the post-punk moment's synthesis of punk and disco. How disappointingly obvious then that the current rock movement would continue in the early-80's trajectory toward new wave slickness and all the baggage that it carries with it. Said Rock Club Door Man even snuck into Michael Alig's Disco 2000 at the Limelight as a teenager growing up in Jersey!
Dolly Pardon once said that "It takes a lot of money to look this cheap." These words are not wasted on today's trendy rock club scene. Just go to Lit or Trash or wherever to see for yourself.