It’s almost the beginning of a bad joke…but it’s not.  Nope.  The hits keep on coming. Life is real in this downtown world as rumors swirl of Paul Sevigny, master of the house, Lord of the Rings, ex-Casio stroking downtown spinner is a knock, knock knockin’ on the door of long-time mainstay, Don Hills.  Don, the older grey-haired master of the house who once hipped his place a la Max’s Kansas City might need that life line.

Regardless, Black Book does quite a rim-job on talking up possibilities of such a marriage. And, Paul apparently sans his biking gloves talks to Black Book with glowing endorsement, speaking quickly and furiously (bumps…bumps…).  The BB author explains, (Paul) “gushed info at me. He’s wanted to talk about this for a while and is uber-excited. “We’re adding 5 bathrooms and seating, we’re going to fix it up.” I tried to take notes but it was hopeless. He was particularly excited to reboot the traditional all-ages Sunday rock shows. He told me to expect 2 or 3 big rock and roll shows a month.”

What a full loop.  Check out the grainy pic below (taken March 19, 2006) of A.R.E. Weapons at Don Hills and Paul in the left backdrop without much punching of the keys going on.  This was pre-his-Beatrice. Pre-his-Kenmare and pre-his -Brown Bunny wearing sis wore Save Paul shirts and thanking him on stage.  Pre-Atlantic City.  Pre-Purple Diary.  PRE PAUL BEFORE PAUL. And on and on.

Come’on, Paul. Everyone (who knows downtown and knows you) KNOWS without the Turk’s access to the old timers, your Bimbo(s) in the Limo wouldn’t be raking in the douja you are raking.

Lay down those tracks and recall Pitchfork’s amazingly insane review of the A.R.E. Weapons album (Rough Trade 2003) with a few of the best  sentences ever to be strung together: “Kicking around New York for fucking ever, Paul’s finally put together a scam that’s paying off: holding down three keys on an old Casio.”

Boy, is Paul forever free of those Casio shackles. Why do we care?  We really don’t.  It’s just interesting. It’s New York.  It’s a new city where hangers-on like Paul can make it.  New York is still a city of hope and dreams.  God bless America.  Seriously.

Kitty Bawler is back…finally. After a five-year stint of silence, the hip continue creeping and crawling out of the woodwork. Having been around the block, she’s studied the flashy trends and inner-workings of all the uber-pretentious, black labeled culture of the downtown New York crowd.  She’s cynical and a bit jaded. She detests aviators. She’s not scared.

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