written on skin
last tuesday saw another installment of choking victim, a monthly party at niagara thrown by liron. people prone to hunger late at night on the lower east side may recognize her as the super-nice girl behind the counter at the creperie. i always figured she had something more to her by the interesting choice of music always played on her shifts. fellow crepe enthusiast bianca, being the more gregarious one (those who know her are laughing at the understatement as they read this), immediately struck up a conversation and started going to liron's night. since this month had bianca directly involved and also featured dj abstract, who pretty much always spins things i like, i was honor-bound to go. and glad i did.
first stop was downstairs, to the cozy little tiki bar that looks a bit like it was left over from the place's days as king tut's wa wa hut. the DJ booth is a great little alcove that's not at all cramped, which made me want to spin there sometime. abstract was cooking up something a bit more pulse-quickening than the downtempo that usually sends me running for a pen and napkin to remember what new amazingness i have to buy. not all my cup of tea, but i definitely left with a better appreciation for a few more drum'n'bass tracks. he teased us with snippets of "james brown is dead," and the 2000 remix of "i sit on acid" had me laughing out loud, but then lords of acid usually has that effect on me.
upstairs musically was billed as "80's new wave/alternative." fortunately the DJs had more taste and variety than that sounds, certainly much better than the average "80's nights" popping up around town. things like echo and the bunnymen, morrissey/smiths, peter murphy, sometimes veering into a more deathrock or 90's industrial zone, mostly avoiding the more obvious choices but delivering a few familiar songs.
the artistic theme of the night (apparently it always has one) was bodies as "human canvas" for painting poetry on. bianca was the first to be painted on in the window of the bar, which drew several appreciative passerby. first her friend nelly wrote one poem on her chest, and then a man whose name i didn't catch continued on her arms and legs. after that, he was written on by liron herself (above), who supplied most of the poetry. bianca's calves were meanwhile covered in another original poem by a girl with a familiar face from nights spent at the raven. all the while, old horror movies and other bizarre clips played on the bar's tv monitor, while a crowd ranging from extremely-dressed goths and punks to normal-looking locals enjoyed themselves. you can also read ben's version of events.
the title of this post comes from a book on the art of japanese tattoo