Photo: Ben Rayner
Parquet Courts released their fifth album in as many years this year and have been around the world playing it live to fans who can't help but mosh to it.
But the band's spiritual home is New York, it's where they've recorded, reherased, lived, and gone from a tiny garage rock band to one of the most talked about in the world.
Their creativity and live shows are heralded amongst the best the city has ever seen and they sit comfortably in a lineage of artsist who aren't strictly from New York originally but have moved there and captured its essence, restlessness, and debauched nightlife into their music.
We asked Sean Yeaton, their bassist, to suggest some off the beaten track locations to check out should anyone want to experience the places that have made New York special to the Parquet Courts. Check out his suggestions below the video to a song taken from their latest album Sunbathing Animal.
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New York City is enduringly watched over by a big green woman holding a stack of magazines. A sports writer once called New York the big apple and someone else another time said it is the city that never sleeps. I like to point this out because it's always reminded me of the story of Sleeping Beauty. You know the story: woman bites into poison-soaked apple from a witch and slips into a coma, then a man kisses her and she wakes up. Something like that. Somehow warps the Adam and Eve story into an even more patriarchal shit show, but I digress. New York: The Big Apple, The City That Never Sleeps. It is the poison-soaked gateway to hell, yet it is in and of itself impervious to the outcome of its own seduction. New York: "Have Your Apple and Never Sleep, Too." What a Declaration of Independence. That's really something if you'd like it to be. So I'm your Virgil, you're my Dr. Faustus, my goddamn Ebenezer Scrooge and it's time for a tour of my favorite joints in NYC.
"Take my hand / We're off to Never Never Land" Metallica
PUB
The Library
7 Avenue A
New York, NY 10009
Ah, The Library! I once went to The Library in search of the hair of a dog that bit me and my friend. A particularly vicious dog, indeed and one of peculiar cunning. We never did find the son of a bitch, and in hindsight it was probably more like a wolf. Nonetheless, my pal and I were fuckin' hungover in Manhattan; too unhinged to join the likes of the brunch set.. We anxiously slid into The Library, sat our asses down such that the milky gray light from outside stung our eyes in a kind of prescribed way and ordered two cheap beers. Something I really like about The Library is the medicinal effect the daylight can have but ultimately is no match for the numbing vacuum it becomes just a step or two past the register and towards the men's room. On this particularly hungover day, "Wasted" by Black Flag had been left on repeat for some reason. Around the eighth time the fifty-seven second-long song played, the dude who played the bad guy from The Mask walked in a drank something like six vodka-cranberries, in what seemed like less than one full "Wasted." It was pretty intense, to say the least and paints, I think, an accurate portrait of The Library's "vibe" if you will. Maybe some will lack the same interest I have in confronting a hangover with high octane existential dread but hey, I can't recommend the place enough.
CLUB
Market Hotel
1140 Myrtle Ave,
Brooklyn, NY
11221
It's great to have Market Hotel back and in more or less similar form as its initial vision. Parquet Courts played there over the summer and it was hotter than the devil's menacing gaze. Wandering around its psychedelic corridors brought back memories of visiting a friend of mine who lived there years ago in a "room" he had bored into a wall, where he slept, brewed hash wine, and wrote songs. I like that it still has vacancy for the old spirits that roam its storied floors while seeming dedicated to provide fertile ground for a new generation of musicians set on live-scoring a dizzying bend in the J train for its lesser-suspecting passengers.
OTHER
Russian Turkish Baths
268 E 10th St
New York,
NY10009
Cells and a well that will burn, then freeze every nagging pang of anxiety plaguing your skeleton and soul. That's one way to put it. They also have a no nonsense snack bar offering up some of the finest pirogies I've had in my life. Pair those with a fine Eastern European Pilsner and a cigarette on the tiny square of roof space after being beaten with lavender-soaked branches by a hairless body builder in the relaxing dungeons of this urban oasis and you're ready to face the day anew. It's kind of like being in a Mortal Kombat level at first but fucking hell, once you've sweated out and singed the toxins from your blood and nostrils in a dark cedar box called the "Hell Room" for a bit and then weakly slide into the Arctic plunge, you'll feel completely unplugged, washed out and reset.
THEATRE
Bam Harvey Theatre
30 Lafayette Ave,
Brooklyn, NY
11217
I once saw a performance of Samuel Beckett's Happy Days here that still fucks with my mind. How they got so much sand onto and off of that stage night after night, I'd rather never know. I've seen a lot of great shows here and even had the honor of performing on the same sand-less stage at one point. It's the perfect atmosphere for being taken into another dimension while also being on a lovely date.
RECORD SHOP
Academy Records
12 W 18th St,
New York, NY
10011
One of the many things I love about New York is the abundance of record stores. At one point, when I was living in Greenpoint, I was within walking distance to all of my favorite record stores: Academy, Permanent, Record Grouch and the Captured Tracks shop. Academy was probably my favorite. It's difficult for me to select only one as "best" since they all offered something a little different. I could spend hours in academy and, if I had enough money, I could spend all of that in there too. The new arrivals section that greets you as you walk in has always got some gems in it and I've never left academy without at least one piece of treasure under my arm. They have a wildly extensive selection of punk, noise, industrial, and hardcore LPs, which suits me but the rest of their shelves are kept stocked with an impressive spread spanning all genres and regional sounds. Love this goddamn place!
PARK
Monsignor McGorlick Park
Brooklyn, NY
11222
Now's probably good a time as any to mention that I don't live in New York anymore. It's sad but luckily I have an excuse to return practically every week. Maybe one day I'll move back with my family when I get the capital to open my Laundromat/Bar called "Buds & Suds" -- we'll serve spaghetti too. Whatever. A lot of people complain about how damn expensive it is to live in New York. A lot of people I know have never had a desire to live in New York or even visit because of how damn expensive it is. I'll tell you what, I had to live in New York and I miss it every day. My first apartment in New York was on South 3rd street in Williamsburg underneath the club house of a biker gang called "The Legion of Doom." Their larger-than-life leader was a guy named Lucifer, who worked as Madonna's body guard for a while and told me once he was in her Sex book. He kept such a watchful eye over South 3rd street that I never once owned a key to the front door of my apartment. It was always unlocked. My friend Steve found the place a couple of years before I moved to New York and I would visit him there whenever I could. There's no chance it's being rented out anymore, as it was essentially a tenement. My "bedroom" had no windows, which wasn't even the last time I'd rent a windowless room in New York. When I moved in, I was the 13th person to live in the dark middle room and when I left, it was passed on the 24th new roommate to move in since Steve first found it. I could tell stories for days about the Legion of Doom house but for all intents and purposes I use it now as evidence that there are ways to sacrifice everything for a bargain just to live in New York and have a chance to thrive there. I had virtually no money ever when I lived in New York but neither did anyone I knew, and everyone had their tricks for getting by that wasn't even against the law. I guess it was being frugal but there were also always free places to hang out like McGorlick park. This shady charming park in Greenpoint is still a meeting place for me when I go back for a few days; it's a place where days start, plans get made and stories are told. One year for my wife's birthday, a group of friends met us in McGorlick park to eat pizza, I found a cheap piñata because you can find anything, ever, the moment you think of it in New York, and we celebrated for cheap. She was pregnant with my son Jack at the time, though we didn't know Jack yet and only just this last summer I brought Jack to McGorlick park to play in the same grassy area his mom was whacking a piñata in not so long ago. Life's a trip. I love New York.
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