Moby

David Lynch was in town last week promoting his national best seller, Catching the Big Fish, which recently came out in paperback. The book is an autobiographical account of the creative benefits the 62-year-old auteur claims to have reaped over the past three decades from practicing Transcendental Meditation, the trademarked meditation technique that rock stars like the Beatles and Donovan championed back in the late 1960s, and which has been making something of a pop culture comeback thanks to celebrity adherents like Mr. Lynch, Howard Stern and Moby. Indeed, it seems like over the past few years Mr. Lynch, whose most recent film was 2006’s epic Inland Empire, has been generating more press for his spiritual beliefs than his surreal and nightmarish brand of cinema.

But fans of creepy dancing midgets and lovers of cherry pie need not worry: Mr. Lynch, who spoke with the Culture Czar recently in his Upper West Side hotel room -- he was wearing his trademark white shirt buttoned all the way to the top and well-coiffed silver hair -- still loves Twin Peaks and a good cup of coffee. (His own Signature Cup blend is on sale at the IFC Center.) He also has a new documentary in the works that he hopes will be in theaters by the fall. But before he gets around to making another of the bewildering films his fans have come to relish, he has a slightly loftier goal to check off his to-do list: world peace. Read on!  read more »

R.E.M. releases its 14th album, Accelerate, today. According to most accounts, it's a return to their Athens, Ga. roots. Spin writes rather breathlessly, "They haven't sounded this surprised with themselves since 1998's Up, haven't made an album this consistent since 1992's Automatic for the People, and haven't redlined so engagingly since 1986's Life's Rich Pageant." The emerging storyline is that like any long-lasting marriage, R.E.M. is surfacing from the depths of a dark period, one in which they admittedly did not talk to one another, and Accelerate is the make-up sex—fast, passionate, "surprising," and perhaps the best ever, because of it. The relief—and ecstasy—is palpable in the music and the reviews. "The best thing about Accelerate," writes David Fricke in Rolling Stone, "is that R.E.M. sound whole again ... [they're] complete in their bond and purpose." You may now kiss the bride!

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In 1992, Moby was among the bristling avant garde of dance music, at a time when that genre seemed poised to break through to the mainstream in a big way. It was with him that it did break, just a few years later. 1999’s Play, mainly a roster of scratchy blues and gospel samples layered over languid, housey tracks, sold nine million copies worldwide, spawned a series of hits, and introduced us to the ubiquity principle, whereby artists and their albums’ success can be measured by the fact that you hear them everywhere. He was Feist before Feist, “Young Folks” and “Crazy” all rolled into one, somehow pumping out of speakers at the Gap, the Duane Reade, your doctor’s office, your best friend’s cocktail party, and all those Silicon Alley startup parties. Every single track on Play was licensed for commercial use. The future was then.

Like the era of "irrational exuberance" that produced it, that album is likely to be the achievement for which Moby is best remembered, though he recently remarked that “in hindsight, it wasn't fun being the crucified poster child for selling out.”  read more »

Bittersweet Symphony? Ashlee Simpson may not be welcomed back to Saturday Night Live after her 2004 appearance exposed her lip-synching talents. Also, Page Six hears that the young Mr. Simpson was not exactly a hit with the show's producers. [P6]  read more »

As late winter’s doldrums penetrate the city, it’s becoming harder to find a reason to leave the house at night. But what if we told you Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds were headlining the Plug Independent Music Awards tomorrow at Terminal 5? And then what if we told you it was only $10?  read more »

Hey, New Yorkers, where is your revolutionary spirit? Lou Reed, David Byrne and Blonde Redhead are wondering why our city of "visionaries" isn't rallying against the war in Iraq. Well they've got a solution: a SPEAK UP! concert in DUMBO.  read more »

It seems that most urban sophisticates these days, from politicians and celebrities to coworkers, have a profile on Facebook, the social networking Web site. The C.I.A., I.R.S., Time Inc., even MySpace, Facebook’s ostensible competition, have job networks there. To the site’s enthusiasts—and there are many; the site has 60 million users so far, with 200 million projected by the end of the year—there is no reason not to partake.  read more »

 

Here's the video for "Alice," a track of Moby's new album Last Night, set for release in late March. This is what the man himself has to say about it (from his blog):  read more »

Moby—the melody macher responsible for that seratonin-laced stuff you couldn’t escape a few years ago but is now relegated to Ian Schrager’s iPod—not only arranges naughty subterranean parties, he also writes his own e-mails. And, as it happens, he has a very interesting method of doing so, alternating line breaks and font sizes with reckless abandon. Oh, the rebellion! In his message, which was sent out to a few lucky guys and gals today, the Mobe-ster uses phrases like “nous non plus” and “liquor soaked.” He also reveals his apparent hatred for guest lists and his love for plastic cups filled with cheap beer.

To read Moby's e-mail, click here.  read more »

Last night at a party for The Atlantic Monthly's 150th anniversary, held on the stage of the NYU student center auditorium, the aging cable-access porn star Robin Byrd was looking around the room. She saw Robert DeNiro, and locked in.

"Hello!" she said, touching his right arm.

"Hi" he replied.

"Hi," she said, curling a smile.

"Hi, hi," he replied, holding his look for an extra second and turned away.

"I guess he recognized me and doesn't wanna talk," Ms. Byrd concluded. "Look at him! He's got a clavicle problem, you know. A clavicle problem."

Mr. DeNiro's left arm and shoulder were in a sling.

"Because his arm is not in a cast, just a sling! He has a clavicle problem, poor guy."

"I don't really know what The Atlantic is," she continued. "Is it something political?"  read more »

Moby, it turns out, doesn’t think there are enough options in New York for club kids on the prowl for a “degenerate night out dancing.” His remedy: a lineup of DJs (called the “Degenerates”) handpicked by Mr. Play himself are to spin at Hiro Ballroom, beneath the Maritime Hotel, starting this Thursday, Oct. 11. As the electro-composer explains in a press release sent out today, Monday, the city’s nightlife landscape has been altered drastically since he was “growing up in Manhattan.” Apparently, the meaning of “growing up in Manhattan” has changed, too—it now applies to those reared in tony waterfront towns like Darien, Connecticut. Who knew?

Full release:

Join Moby and a changing line-up of dj's, as they bring you "Degenerates," the first in a series of DJ nights at Hiro Ballroom on Thursday, October 11.

"When I was growing up in Manhattan in the early 80's you could go dancing anywhere: Area, Fallout Shelter, Danceteria, etc. Now in 2007 your options for a degenerate night out dancing in Manhattan are more limited. With this in mind, I wanted to start a fun and dirty and eclectic night of dance music, called 'Degenerates'. Hopefully on the night people will somehow be inspired by the name."

Moby has also invited Juan McClean, Stretch Armstrong (his former NYC roommate), and DFA artist Alex Frankel to DJ the inaugural “Degenerates” - which is slated to become a regular NYC residency for Moby.

Moby is set to release his next album, 'Last Night', on Mute in Spring 2008.

"Degenerates" will also be a testing ground for new Moby material, so come down for an amazing party.

 

No fewer than 20 Arden Wohl-esque headbands were spotted at the Whitney Museum’s Art Party on Wednesday, June 6.  The evening’s dress code was, after all, “hippie chic,” in honor of the museum’s current exhibition, “Summer of Love: Art of the Psychedelic Era.”

Socialite Genevieve Jones looked beautiful in her daisy headband.  Man about town Paul Johnson-Calderon chose a red one (with a matching sash around his waist). to accessorize his tuxedo. The artist duo Andrew Andrew, who dress as twins à la Gilbert-and-George and Viktor-and-Rolf, sported matching ones.  “We bought them in a Japanese supermarket in Hawaii,” they boasted. 

Top model Agnyess Deyn was a standout in her canary-yellow mini-dress by London label Preen.  The Manchester, England, native recently moved to New York.  “I’m still in my honeymoon period with the city,” she said with a smile.

The actress Rosario Dawson, stunning in Max Azria (the design label sponsored the event), said she’s looking forward to Fourth of July Weekend in the Hamptons, where her buddies are throwing a big bash.  Last summer in the Hamptons, The Transom kicked it with Ms. Dawson and her madcap moms, Isabel.  This year, she said, she feels a bit out of it.  “Oh, I don’t even know all the parties,” she said.  “No one ever tells me, I’m never invited anywhere, you know that!”

But attention comic book fanatics: Ms. Dawson is the prototype for a crime-fighting heroine in a comic book named O.C.T.: Occult Crimes Taskforce.  The trade paperback of the first four issues is coming out June 13, and shortly thereafter Ms. Dawson hits the road on a book tour. Whee!

Conspicuously absent from the crowd were the art-world power brokers--curators, critics, gallerists and the like – most of whom are jetting their way to Europe and the month-long jamboree of big exhibitions there.  “There’s only a handful left,” said Whitney director Adam Weinberg of the art gang.  But, no worries, the poor artists themselves are still here, he said. Oh, phew.

Luba Azria, wife of Max, was introduced to Walis Singh Ahluwalia, the jewelry designer.  Ms. Azria, perhaps inspired by Mr. Singh Ahluwalia’s turban, decided to inform him that she’d once attended a great Eastern-meditation camp, of sorts.  “It was a totally amazing experience. It changed my life,” she said.  Mr. Singh Ahluwalia blinked and nodded blankly.

“I’m building a big, beautiful house for all my friends, brick by brick,” he later said about his gem company, House of Waris. 

At last year’s party, Moby told The Transom that he’d washed his hands of the whole affair (“I’m bored,” he’d said.)  This year, he didn’t wash his hands after peeing.  The head-shorn musician turned from the men’s room urinals and headed straight for the door.  “What I love about this party in particular is it’s this odd combination of socialites and degenerate artists,” he said.  “And they sort of rub off on each other.”

Lower East Side stalwart Moby has outgrown his hipster roots.  read more »