There's More Culture and Trash at People’s Fingertips Than Ever: Michael Musto and Rob Roth on NYC Nightlife Today

By Michael Musto and Rob Roth

Walker Publishing Filed to Visual Arts · Part of Nightlife as Form

Rob Roth and Chi Chi Valenti at Click + Drag, 1995. Courtesy Rob Roth.

Longtime friends Michael Musto and Rob Roth have seen a lot of fabulous nightlife and even created some of it themselves. Covering NYC nightlife for a variety of outlets, including the Village Voice as the colorful, gay La Dolce Musto columnist, Musto has witnessed, documented, and commented on the evolution of this art form for decades. Raised in NYC, Rob Roth was a co-founder of Click + Drag, the weekly event at New York’s 1990s club Mother, which intricately explored the interface between nightlife and the emerging digital culture.

Reflecting on the evolution of NYC nightlife as well as its potential for radical new futures, they emailed back and forth to take us through both the dazzle of the glory days and the weirdness of the current zeitgeist.

MICHAEL MUSTO, 2/14/24, 8:20 AM:

I will never have my own psychic hotline. In 2021, as we emerged from Covid lockdown, I predicted that there'd be a wild return to nightlife, as crazed as the roaring 1920s and maybe even better than the 1970s. I felt that everyone's desperation to have face-to-face contact again, combined with all the available spaces that could be easy converted into clubs, would turn NYC into a nonstop theme park of fun fun fun that never slept. Wrong! Though people WERE itching to get social again, what I didn't factor in is that some developments that hurt nightlife in the past can never be reversed in order to bring back the mood of a century ago. Once the Internet became prevalent in the '90s and aughts, you no longer had to leave the house to meet people and interact. You could cure your loneliness all alone in your room! No longer did you have to go to a nightclub where a DJ would introduce you to new music; you could click onto it at home and feel really special about it. And once sex apps became big--Grindr started in 2009--you could even hook up without going to a club! Nightclubs were suddenly as nonurgent as grocery stores after FreshDirect.

All the empty spaces in 2022 didn't seem to help things either, since NYC rents are always high no matter what, and also, the cost of opening and running a club still verges on prohibitive. And the community boards didn't seem to be loosening their standards at all despite the post-lockdown desperation to be entertained; nothing was going to turn them into Texas Guinan. What's more, a lot of people who in the past would have been professional partiers were now gym regulars who drank Jamba Juice and held down two jobs, and clubs minded their p's and q's, so the flapper era was not going to make any kind of magical comeback. So nightlife returned, but with a mess of contemporary restrictions.

ROB ROTH, 2/16/24, 8:30 PM:

Well, you might be slightly psychic because recently I've been obsessively pondering the idea of fin de siècle, the term describing art and culture in Europe at end of the 19th century. This pondering started in December on my birthday, when I did mushrooms and went to the Museum of Modern Art. I got lost in the scene of a Toulouse-Lautrec painting. It reminded me of the Versailles room at Mother. I pictured myself sitting there, chatting to [drag performer/promoter] Hattie Hathaway behind the bar. Suddenly, so many memories from that period came back to me. All the 'end of the world' and Y2K panic (which, of course, we did as a theme at Click + Drag), as well as the Giuliani administration's draconian 'quality of life' campaign that created a police state to tame the 'debauchery' and made nightlife so much more difficult to sustain and produce, at least the kind of nightlife I was involved in. I also see similarities in the Industrial Revolution that changed the world and the digital revolution that has brought us to where we are now. Exactly where is that, though? Ha. Maybe we are in the new "Roaring Twenties," but don't know it because it's not for us? (Though suddenly I see Macy Rodman as the perfect flapper!) If centuries are cyclical or mirror versions of each other, then where is today's Cabaret Voltaire or art movements like DADA? Online? Bushwick? Maybe I have not discovered them yet because, let's face it, I have such little FOMO now in regards to nightlife because 'I did it' or, as Debbie Harry once said to me, "Not only have we done it, we did it epically." You can never go back, and really, why would you want to? Unlike you, I did not think we were going to come back with a vengeance after the pandemic. It could be my nihilist tendencies or my pragmatic producer side (you know I wear about 10 different hats), but I felt that the psychological trauma was too strong and the online reality was too overpowering for the entire world to snap back. In fact, I'm pretty sure we are still in the process of awakening from the pandemic and adjusting to a new existence in the 21st century. 

Something I discovered this week that made me giggle was what Hugo Ball said referring to most politicians and members of the bourgeois during his time in the early 20th century: "Words have all lost their meaning." Imagine what he would think now? HA! For a minute, I thought of doing a performance/poetry reading series called "Alternative Facts." Here is a question for you: Are people bored? Confused? Angry? Where are these feelings going? Is it reflected in nightlife? I have my own theories . . .

MICHAEL MUSTO, 2/19/24, 8:20 AM:

No one is bored! People are holding down multiple jobs, while making sure to catch every season of Feud and also streaming all eight Album of the Year nominees. There's more culture (and trash) at people's fingertips than ever, so it's a wonder they even find time to head to bars for cheap drinks and socializing. But the lure of alcohol will always be potent, and so will the draw of other actual humans standing there in person! Fighting all those challenges I mentioned before--plus, yes, the devastating after-effects of the dreaded Giuliani--is not easy, but nightlife exists as a reaction to oppression, so it will always make itself known under pressure. I have to agree with you and Debbie that "We did it the best and the most," but I don't hold it against younger people that I was lucky enough to start out at places like Studio 54 [the ultimate one-stop shopping for glitzy hedonism] and the Mudd Club [the anti-54, an attitudey Tribeca hole in the wall that was every bit as fabulous as its Uptown counterpart].

In the '70s, the club crowd was too disillusioned to be angry about anything--they just wanted to check their minds at the door and go for broke--but in the '80s, the sobering rise of AIDS (and the government's neglect of it) galvanized my crowd and made us schizophrenically torn between club events and ACT UP rallies. Today, the anger has morphed into sheer terror that fascism is on the rise and requires constant vigilance, but it's cathartic that we've at least become keyboard warriors who can scream out our rage all day long. The only good thing about Elon Musk allowing hate speech on X [formerly Twitter] is that libs can also say whatever we want. I'll gladly tell off a hater for their ignorant views, using whatever colorful language that comes to mind! And then I can go to a bar party in peace.

ROB ROTH 2/20/24, 11:20PM:

So . . . I went out tonight and I did have some Mezcal, so, yes, I'm writing this a bit tipsy! My friend Candystore hosts a night called DILF-o-Vision, which is this viewing party with live commentary of a reality show called For the Love of DILFS, which I had no idea existed. It's def on the "trash" side of what you said is now abundantly at people’s fingertips. However, it did remind me how I only truly enjoy Ru Paul's Drag Race when watching with a crowd, or just observing Parker [Posey] watch it. That should be its own streaming show! The crowd tonight was small, but mixed and very animated. I suppose it's like a gay sports bar party? All the cheering and screaming at a TV, rooting for your favorite DILF or HIMBO? It's very bizarre to observe what might have happened in person at a gay bar in the past on TV while in a gay bar; it's very meta. I even learned some new Gen Z slang, so be prepared for me to keep responding, "Let her cook!"

Speaking of gay sports: One event I did want to mention in these correspondences about the "then" and the "now" of nightlife is my friend Hugo Gyrl's amazing night in New Orleans called Choke Hole. It's a huge, queer, WWE-style event where drag queens wrestle. It's wild, theatrical, and hot (both visually and temperature). It's so beyond anything Drag Race would do, and you have to go to it live. This is one of the many reasons I continue to love New Orleans and try to visit often. There are still these kinds of "outlaw" parties going on. Even if they are not truly outlaw, they have that vibe. New York, for the most part, has been so sanitized (or is the better word regulated?), it's hard to find something similar. I'm sure it exists here, possibly in another borough, maybe the Bronx? I do remember in the late '80s, some of the best parties were illegal. When I was living in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, in 1988, there were constant house parties happening. I can still remember the first time I heard Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock’s "It Takes Two" play and almost lost my mind. That was a cool scene. It changed quickly, though, as gangsta rap took over hip-hop and "artfag" types like me were not as welcome, which was understandable. 

I will say that anytime someone younger asked with an almost disappointed tone about the past, I always answer, "It wasn't necessarily better, it was different." I find that to be the most truthful answer because it's utterly impossible to do anything like that during this digital age AND there are so many things that are so much easier now, especially with tech! When I think of the 50 lb. projectors and enormous computers and monitors we had to lug into Click + Drag, not to mention the DJ's 100-lb. cases of vinyl records! I'm amazed now at how you can arrive with a tiny laptop and do it all. When we presented one of the "in conversation" talks I do with Debbie and Chris at the Tribeca Film Festival, one of the many subjects that came up was Jackie 60. Chris called it "the greatest club of all time," to which Debbie agreed. After a young girl who was the bartender on the roof said something to the effect of "I just got to New York and I feel like I missed everything," I immediately responded, "No! It's up to you now. Go make the party you want to go to. Even if it has 20 people or only lasts for a month!"  

One thing I am curious to hear from you is how you've managed to adjust to the change in journalism. I fondly remember grabbing a Village Voice and flipping immediately to your column, La Dolce Musto, to see the who, what, and where or war that happened that week. I should also thank you for the several times I saw my name bolded in these delicious weekly reports. It did make you feel like you were doing things right, like you were a part of something. I suppose the equivalent now is being hash tagged? Or hyperlinked? Let her cook!

MICHAEL MUSTO, 2/21/24, 11:40 AM

Thank you for being one of the people who made my column (and NYC) tick! The change in nightlife journalism has been huge, mainly because everyone now has a Facebook page, a blog, a substack, and a voice--which is great, it just means that I'm competing with the entire world. The days when I was one of a handful of writers covering drag queens are as distant as that awful Chia Pet hairdo I used to run around in.

The other change is that today's drag queens don't care much about being quoted, even in The New York Times (which I've freelanced for). Sometimes, they don't even get back to me! They hardly need me to discover them anymore; they only care about getting on Drag Race. Who cares about a mention in an article when you can be a TV star and get splashy press? And even if you don't get on, you're all over social networks anyway, and that has the same impact that publicity used to. Even more so, because all your friends see it!

And again, I'm fine with this. Things change. More media means more accessibility, visibility, and points of view. It all makes me less special in the scheme of things, but I feel my pov will aways be unique (and kind of raunchy) and that's what keeps me afloat and relevant.

But the downside of Drag Race is that so much of gay nightlife has become a matter of getting together to watch a TV show in a bar. I love the DILFS idea--that's fresh--and truthfully, Uncle Charlie's bar did have Dynasty on the video screens in the '80s, but the idea of nightlife being centered on a TV show makes me queasy. We used to go to clubs to avoid watching TV.

Similarly, drag has become literally the only entertainment in gay bars, so even when it's a non Drag Race night, it’s still basically Drag Race. Whenever a bar opens with the manager swearing, "We will have all kinds of entertainment! We will have classical music!" it's just a matter of minutes before they trot out the tuckers to scream "Make some noise!" I worship drag queens--they have always been the court jesters of our world, the queens who can simultaneously cut down and lift up--but some diversity on stage would be nice. But these days, we don’t even get singers that aren't in drag because the bar has been raised so high that the "girls" now have to have Broadway-level voices, in addition to being able to lip synch, do comedy and do a death drop. If you do happen to hear classical music at a gay bar, I assure you it'll be a drag queen doing it.

I just want everything shaken up more! We're not getting that "Roaring Twenties" feel I predicted, but I just want a little recklessness to give us a tiny hint of that. I'm all for legality in nightlife, but clubs are supposed to be places where you indulge in a tiny bit of bad behavior. I miss getting a blow job on the stairway! I miss those house parties and real outlaw parties you mentioned. (I went to ones on the subway and on a sanitation pier; they were never boring, especially since you knew the cops would be there to bust it up at any moment.) But that crazy wrestling bash in New Orleans gives me hope, and nightlife is about hope. I will always go out with the optimism of a depraved Pollyanna!

ROB ROTH 2/21/24, 11:15 PM

Polly Anna DePrave is your new drag name! Also, I swear I have seen one too many death drops. At this point I will only be impressed if they actually die; that would be legendary. I suppose this is what happens when the underground goes to the mainstream. I do believe it was Chi Chi Valenti who told me something to the effect of "It usually takes a seven- to 10-year cycle for underground culture to rise to the mainstream" (and be ruined). This was somewhere in the mid-'90s, so I imagine now it takes more like 15 minutes? (Yes, that was a Warhol reference). Drag is one of the greatest art forms, however my influence and experience with it was from such a different realm. Drag had or has so many facets and forms: Butch, Femme, Clown, Goth, Fairy. The list is endless because we all are in drag to a certain extent. I suppose I've always appreciated the more DADA form of drag. Seeing Flawless Sabrina (RIP) walk in with a hat box as a hat or Dina Martina doing her unique and hilariously bizarre character--they are almost "punk" in this arena. I remember one queen I met many years ago at Burning Man named Jupiter saying, "It's all just a banana peel."  

The biggest difference, though, is in the financials. I was recently out in L.A. with [drag rocker] Miss Guy and Dani Miller. Guy had mentioned something about Trixie Mattel buying someone's house for like three million dollars. I think I spit my drink and almost fell off my chair, or maybe I almost walked into traffic? I don’t know why this came as such a shock; she's great, so smart and funny. I've never met her, but I suppose I have not really been paying attention to the new reality. It's 2024, not 1990, and drag can be a very lucrative busine$$. We come from a time where most queens were giving blow jobs for cab fare home. Guy and I laughed and said, "I guess we should have done more lip-syncing." 

I suppose I could get into some kind of "late-stage capitalism" rant about the state of drag, but to be honest, it's still a powerful force for liberation. I think this is apparent with all the political shenanigans happening across the nation, all up in arms about things like "Drag Story Hour." We will always be the easy target for their distractions, but what those conservative voices never realize is that, eventually, it helps further the cause as time marches on. It really does make me want to start my "Alt Facts Cabaret" idea. Maybe drag queens recite Shakespeare sonnets while a children's choir sings behind them in Latin? 

That's the thing, nightlife was my graduate school, really. It's where I earned my chops, so to speak. I've seen so many hone their craft and rise to distinct levels of success. I think of Justin Vivian Bond, the Scissor Sisters, Anohni, all of whom I met in nightlife. The debauchery in all its forms is fun and I also believe quite necessary, but the art and collaborations and experience can be priceless. All the personalities, all the characters who trained me in sharp repartee and the use of language as a sword and shield. I can still hold my own with an exchange of biting wit, but I'm also smart enough to leave a fierce queen with the last word . . . ha.

MICHAEL MUSTO, 2/22/24, 2:40 PM

Then I will seize the chance to speak it, lol! Polly Anna DePrave here agrees with everything you said, especially the bit about feeling like I went to grad school in nightlife. You and I are basically nocturnal PhDs, but we're also willing to go out one more time and learn things, and that's crucial. Let's get together soon and . . . let her cook!▪︎

Michael Musto is best known as the colorful, gay La Dolce Musto columnist, covering nightlife and entertainment for the Village Voice. He’s penned four books, appeared in countless documentaries, and never stopped dancing.

Rob Roth is a noted multidisciplinary artist and director. He was a founding member/producer of Click + Drag, the weekly event at New York’s 1990s club Mother, which intricately explored the interface between clubs, future-fetish lifestyles and computers. Currently, he is creative director for Blondie (with Debbie Harry).