Good illegal raves are hard to come by in NYC these days. At this point, every usable space has either been shut down by the cops or hijacked by bros.
Finding a venue that feels safe (so you won’t fall through the floor) yet lawless (plenty of holes in the walls) is kind of the holy grail for parties, which is why we wanted to capture that spirit to celebrate the release of our new record.
We originally booked a sketchy space in Bed-Stuy that turned out to be too grimy and cockroach-infested. The cops also caught wind of what we were up to and warned us not to have any “unsanctioned” events there unless we were prepared to face the consequences.
So with less than a day to prep we called everyone we could to find an alternative space, and our friend Jess hooked us up with this old abandoned ballroom in Ridgewood. We had to clear out a lot of debris and do some cleaning/disinfecting to make it look less like a crime scene, but it was all worth it.
People usually want to know what’s in the Jenkem Party Nutcrackers, but truth be told, the formula always changes. This batch was a combination of chocolate rum, vodka, fruit punch, and just a dash of Red Bull. “Gourmet,” as some would say.
NYC is one of a handful of U.S. cities that are lax about public nudity, which is great. But if this were Europe, I’d also be naked while writing this caption.
We ended up with more of a “haunted middle school dance” vibe than a “Euro club where I get kidnapped” one, which was nice. (Photo thanks to Stephen Cowan).
A fog machine is a great aphrodisiac for the dance floor but terrible for taking photos.
AceMoMa on the decks (no skate pun intended). They kept the tunes fairly “accessible” for this one, spinning old-school house and techno. Don’t wanna scare away too many shy bar dwelling skaters.
There are maybe four of these “Jenkem’s” stickers left in existence, so what better place to stick one than right in the slimiest urinal in the whole building.
Worst. Party. Everrr.
Cleo (left) was MVP for the night, screening the door for sketchy looking folk, too drunk folk, or just random a-holes off the street. Since we didn’t have any permits for this one, we needed to make sure nobody called the cops or we’d be toast.
One finger to show how many hours of sleep you got the night before the event.
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