After hosting some epic events over the summer (Tiki Disco, Kim Gordon) the onetime factory that goes by the name Knockdown Center is remodeling so it can reopen as a proper arts center in the spring. In the meantime, it’s using its sprawling grounds in the best way possible: last weekend it launched a year-round flea market.
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The film opens on a podium, where a stuffy professor lectures in un-subtitled German sprinkled with English words: “Teaches of Peaches,” “rock mainstream,” “Fatherfucker,” “clitoris.” Then he disappears, replaced by Berlin-based girl group Jolly Good, both wearing Plasmatics T-shirts and screeching “Rock Show.” It’s the first of 22 songs by the Canadian electro-clash rocker Peaches, best known for Lost in Translation’s “Fuck the Pain Away.”
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(Christopher Discipio)
Banksy took to the Williamsburg-Bed Stuy border today for the 17th installment of . Hours after his piece went up on Cook Street, off of Graham Avenue, it was vandalized. But a few art-friendly Good Samaritans did some on-the-spot restoration and — although a smudge is still visible — the mural is pretty much clear.
While B+B was on the scene, a man covered the right figure with a square piece of blue Plexiglas. Hysteria ensued as everyone remembered the guy who, a few days ago, tried to charge people $20 to take a picture of a Banksy piece.
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Last week Glenn Branca recalled meeting David Bowie: “He was a trip. He really felt like he needed to be the person you imagined him to be.” Saturday at Le Poisson Rouge, everyone felt they needed to be the Thin White Duke, or Ziggy Stardust, or any of Bowie’s countless other personas, because it was the annual BowieBall. Click through to see Amy Lombard’s shots of the action and get a glimpse of life on Mars.
(Photo: Kristy Ann Muniz)
Last night, Barclays Center was filled with a mixture of middle-aged South Africans and twentysomething Williamsburg artist types, all there to catch a glimpse of Sixto Rodriguez, star of Searching for Sugar Man. For those who haven’t seen the Oscar-winning documentary, the back story of Rodriguez is pretty unreal; it’s like something straight out of, well, an Oscar-winning documentary. Basically, the Mexican-American guitarist had a short-lived musical career in the ’70s, but bootlegs of his albums made their way to South Africa where, unbeknownst to him, he became a legend. All the while, he was working manual labor jobs in Detroit. Now, thanks to the success of Searching for Sugar Man, at 71, Rodriguez is suddenly playing stadiums such as Barclays Center, and a sold-out Radio City Music Hall.
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(Photo: Kristy Ann Muniz)
As audience members filed into the Heart of Darkness variety show at the Bell House last night, they were handed a vegan gummy bear stuffed in a cocaine baggy, and told that one of the sugary snacks was laced with acid.
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So, yeah, the loss of Odessa Bar put a damper on the weekend; luckily, Tiki Disco was there to blunt the pain with a rager at the Rockaway Beach Surf Club the next day. Downtown photographer Justin Jay, who has a bungalow nearby, dropped in and shot the photos above. Click through them to experience the torpid, dark-and-stormy-fueled madness of Tiki’s last installment of “Bushwick by the sea” and be glad you didn’t have to wait in line for the bathroom. The guys will be back in Brooklyn this Sunday, at Output’s rooftop Canopy Bar.
By Friday afternoon, the second of three days during which the New York Public Library is unloading 22,000 vinyl LPs at Lincoln Center, there was no New Kids on the Block to be found — presumably, some eager wax collector jumped on that gem early. In fact, the majority of the remaining offerings were classical records.
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(Photo: Michael Harlan Turkell)
If you missed the crab feast at Cafe Ghia in Bushwick last night, don’t worry — there’s still a chance to get crackin’, and oh what a chance it is: East Village farm-to-table fixture Back Forty is taking its Tuesday night crab boils to Rockaway this Saturday and then again on Aug. 31. Starting at 3 p.m. at Low Tide Bar (at Beach 96th Street and the water), $25 gets you a bucket of spiced blue crabs, corn on the cob and steamed potatoes (or it’s $15 for a half-size bucket).
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Take From Dusk Till Dawn and National Lampoon’s Vacation; subtract Chevy Chase, John Candy, Quentin Tarantino and bloodthirsty vampires; add Jennifer Aniston as a stripper and Dodgeball director Marshall Rawson Thurber, and you’ve got We’re The Millers.
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