Loft Parties

in the late 80's there was a lot of effort put into throwing loft parties. these were parties that were organized by young teenage promotors, who managed to miraculously get their hands on a large empty loft in an industrial neighborhood, despite being so young. the neighborhoods were usually places like the area south of Hell's Kitchen or west Soho before it was really fancy. they were huge, multi school gatherings that were kind of an under 21 club. there was rampant alcohol use, as there were usually kegs. and of course there was the ever present clouds of blunt smoke everywhere. all set to the loud base of hip hop, when hip hop was still young and limited in scope. i remember it was common to hear the same song more then once after a few hours because there simply wasn't that much on vinyl.

funny thing was, these weren't the only place a 14-18 year old could go to get crazy at a large club because the drinking age was 18 back then. no places ever asked for ID. as a matter of fact, i was never carded in NYC. that didn't happen until i was older, and legal anyways. so for a night out, kids in high school could actually go to the clubs. as a whole, we were a welcome bunch anywhere in the 80's. i was regularly at the Limelight and the Palladium before Peter Gaitien's empire of fun and drugs collapsed. i remember waiting on line with a forty, and then tossing it in the garbage as the bouncer let me in. they LOVED highschool kids. we were often the life of the club and we made the place feel younger. we could also buy alcohol at delis (i started doing that at 12), we could get into most dive bars, and we could even go to chinese restaurants and order Zombie cocktails for cheap. something we did quite often. My friends and i were almost regulars at the Dallas BBQ on west 72nd. we would take a big table in the basement and get sloppy on those margeritas that came in huge bowls. a perfect setting for kids and liqour. not that i would have it any other way, but you can imagine how i feel these days, in my mid-30's getting carded EVERYWHERE. it's like, uh, a dollar short and a day late, buddy. I dare say that the culture of drinking was, oddly, more honest back then.

the loft parties were different though. they were much less organized and much less civil. they were ALL young. these parties weren't homogenous either. the crowd spanned the entire spectrum of class and demographs of the city, from the children of the richest people on earth, to the poorest hood rats of the south bronx. from preps to punks, to graffitti writers, to goths. everybody had a nook in those large spaces. everybody came out to represent for their social order.

one big problem with that, was that often these groups didn't inherently get along, and security and organization was minimal since these gatherings were completely illegal. basically ALL of the loft parties i attended as a youngster ended up in some kind of riot for the one exit because somebody got stabbed or a huge brawl broke out. often the reason was simple school rivalry, or gang related rivalry that spilled out into the otherwise peaceful gathering of a diverse crowd.

i remember one time, running top speed for a fire escape, and then ending up stepping over a big dude who was clutching at something sticking out of his side, as i stepped past him i slipped a bit in a small pool of blood. another time a loft party was attacked by the Chelsea hockey team, fully equiped with helmets, pads, and sticks. i managed to see them coming early so i was out in front of the herd running full speed down Varick street.

another wonderful loft party experience was when a fight broke out between two rival crews of about 20-30 guys. everybody piled out in chaos and ended up in a large crowd outside. sometimes these crowds would linger as people were trying to find each other and to figure out where to go next. well this time i was looking for my friends and wasn't paying attention to the crowd itself. i suddenly found myself completely surrounded by a crew of thugs. they all looked REALLY pissed and i was staring at about 3-4 rows of angry faces.

there was a second or two where i just figured that i had seen the end of my days. i remember hoping that whatever happened next wouldn't hurt too bad and that it would be over fast. these guys looked like they were a pack of wolves and i was clearly the prey. i assumed that there was no logical reason for why i was targeted, like it was just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. but then, one of them asked if i went to Bronx Science Highschool. i guess the brawl had involved that school and these guys were looking for some payback. i said very quickly that i didn't go there, but it didn't change the situtation. i was officially up shits creek without a paddle. i wanted my mommy.

but then a miracle happened. i heard somebody say "Zen2?!". i looked at one of the faces, a taller guy in the back of the pack. it was a guy who i had grown up with. he was from the south bronx and one of those guys who grew up really fast. i remember that he had a Ninja motorcycle at like 15. he was selling drugs instead of going to highschool and had managed to get a bike a year before having a license is even a possibility.

i looked at him incredulously and said "Akein?!". the glaring stares faltered as the guys realized they had just been robbed of their target. i was friends with one of their guys. some of them turned to him and he nodded. "he's cool. he doesn't go to Science.". there was a pause and they started walking past me. i quickly shook Akein's hand and thanked him for bailing me out. and he walked away too. i never saw him again.

right as the last guy was passing me though, my hat was grabbed off my head. i guess one of them just couldn't let it go so easily, and maybe he didn't think much of Akein. anyways, i let that go, very easily. it was Ages hat anyways, and he had plenty at home. i immediately took off around the corner. i never stopped to find my friends, instead i made my way uptown to a house where i knew there would be a smaller party of just my highschool. by the time i got there, i had been presumed dead by my crew. apparently somebody had found my hat out in front of the party with a huge slice in the middle from a knife. my friends knew it was mine, from the tags on it and the Fieldston "F". so there was an immediate rumor that i had been stabbed in the head and was in the hospital. thankfully nobody bothered to call my parents.