Wednesday, October 03, 2012


Though we didn't remember much from the last time our UK mate Fil OK came over to New York to DJ with us at our weekly Wednesday Good Times party at Eastern Bloc, we DO remember that we had an unbelievable evening, thanks in part to our shared love for electroclash, which he always manages to drop and which always manages to make the night even more magical.

If you've ever contemplated the shaved-head-and-beard look, I pretty sure Quinn, Eliot and Matteo (from left) can give enough of an argument that you should just go ahead and do it already so you can look as good as them.

Fil Ok's mate Jamie (also from London) hung with us in the DJ booth for a good part of the night, waxing poetic about our Facebook missed connection aka how he may have sent me a friend request that I overlooked. Luckily, the situation has been remedied.

Mike (right) had promised he was bringing a gaggle of Lebanese men to my party earlier in the day and boy did he deliver. Thank you habaybi!

So an Australian, a lady and two shaggy dudes walk into a Wednesday dance party called Good Times...

It is always a delight to see Alex (right) and hear about his light-up clothing project, which I'm hoping to get tons of prototype of for Burning Man next year. Or Good Times next week with Michael T.! 

Fil's set was a hodgepodge of everything and anything, including the album version of Fischerspooner's Emerge, which still makes me lose my shit each and every time I hear it.

Oh, good morning Ms. Keisha. We hear that your drag mommy, Princess Diandra, just performed at Some Thing at the Stud all the way out in San Francisco, where we'll also be DJing later this month. Can we bring her back with us?

Much like these fellas in hoodies and cardigans, I too have succumbed to the effects of autumn in New York and have begun wearing jeans and long sleeves. And apparently, no one recognizes me when I'm not in a tank top and baseball cap.

Eddie (right) gave his trademark middle-finger pose while his handsome friend in the white tee got all Blue Steel on us. 

More red beards for your nerves because, as I can personally attest, everyone loves a ginger beard.

Santi (left) and his buddy and his stylish eyebrow which always throws me back to that era when people would buzz zebra stripes into their eyebrows to look more like Vanilla Ice. Believe it, kids!

The daddy contingent of the evening, which always brings a smile to everyone's face, especially the NYU young'uns who are still learning the ropes.

First off, whoever the evil creature is that stole Michael T.'s bag OUT OF THE DJ BOOTH last week does not even know what kind of spells have already been cast on him. Secondly, Michael T. is DJing Good Times with me next week! And he wants to play lots of Elvis. And as I've already said, whatever Michael T. wants, Michael T. gets.

I'm not 100 percent sure these fresh-faced youngsters are even familiar with the electroclash movement of 2001, but between my W.I.T. tracks and Fil Ok's Chicks On Speed moments, they certainly heard their fair share last Wednesday.

Party and bullshit and a quick catnap for Keisha over in the corner during Fil's set.

And then Kimora Lee Simmons dropped by for a dance on our new go-go box.

 THE VANITIES! We're sad to have missed Michael T.'s performance with the Vanities (pictured here, I think) this past Friday at the Spank party but we're pretty sure he killed since he always does. Michael T. 4 President!

Speaking of presidents, have the Eastern Bloc not-so-subliminal Vote Obama posters been working? 

This one on the left also hails from London or Australia (white people with funny accents is what we like to call them) and may or may not have made an honest man out of Quinn by the end of the evening.

White woman barstool, white denim shows. 

Matt (left) and I chit chatted about New York City real estate and the perks of renting over buying and how we both think we'll live in New York forever even though we'd each love to run away to Spain and make music and eat yummy food forever. Or at least I'd love to do that.

Bartender Sam and the dollar dollar bills y'all that we're gonna stuff in the underwears of all the men that get naked on the go-go box at next week's Good Times at Eastern Bloc. Come and see for yourself.

Backwards and sideways caps are the new navajo print.

And she's awake again!

A huge thank you to Fil OK (left) nd his buddy Jamie for keeping it cunt up in the DJ both and reminding us why we love having him DJ our party. He's actually in New York for a few more weeks so keep an eye out and say g'day when you see him.

 Oh, its not over yet hunty. It's only 3am.

And 3am is when ALL the good shit like this starts to happen.

We even made it to Frankie's Westgay party the night before this particular party for W. Jeremy's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY JER BEAR!) and had ourselves a lovely little evening.

Last call for alcohol and mustache rides! See you next Wednesday when me and Michael T. spin sock hop, northern soul, Elvis and ummmm, The Knife and Roisin Murphy and all of the other Good Times classics. xoxo, Sparber

No comments: