P-Button 4/9

The Bar: "Drop Off Service" on Avenue A between 13th and 14th st.

The Scene: A mixed mingling of young professionals and hip swingsters. Bar is large and open, with dimly lit intimate pockets in the back. Bartenders are dress-casual, tall and handsome. Drink list is eclectic but discriminating. Clientèle is diverse and conversational, seems like a neighborhood spot, and the neighborhood is a unique one: not meaning the surrounding East Village, but the behemoth of a housing "community" known as Stuyvesant Town whose boulevard of a South entrance is four storefronts away.

The Space: The glass on the bar-front had "Drop Off Service written in faded white letters as if to resemble a New York laundromat, which I suspect it was under prior proprietors. The room was an open square, with the bar and the plush round booths. It reminded me of a club that acted of a recreation room in a resort town. The jukebox was practically on stage up against the back wall. The back wall acted as an entrance for the uninhabited, crimson glowing backrooms. These rooms would be perfect for making out in, but just a little too open for lines of coke. The neighborhood is defined by hip bars. The East Village has the highest concentration of bars of any neighborhood in the whole city. Stuyvesant Town is a relatively affordable, seemingly safe converted project in a trendy, pricey neighborhood. The bar's proximity to the "community" makes it a convenient spot for town regulars and a good meeting place for friends of townies.

The Juke: A small, but well amplified with good surround sound. The music is audible almost anywhere in the bar, but competing with many loud conversations and general bar noise. Unfortunately, the volume of the music isn't loud enough to put up much of a fight. The jukebox is a quaint one with the standard 100 albums, consisting mostly of alternative bent classics, from psychedelic era Beatles to The Violent Femmes to Le Tigre.

The Song: Gnarles Barkley "Crazy," may well have been 2007's biggest hit. Jumping from the college radio favorite to Grammy nominee, the song was a favorite for parties and dance clubs. The infectous electronic precision and soulful vocals created a combination that rockers, hip-hoppers and electronic music fans could all at least tolerate. The catch chorus of "I may be crazy" can invariably be seen being mouthed by one of the helpless dancers, even when dancing is inappropriate (yes, it is that hip shaking). The song's popularity and association with a party atmosphere make it a good choice for a room full of Sty townies. While it isn't cutting edge it was the most current option in the pool of rock and alternative classics. It is if jukeboxer players were attempting to conjure a DJ. When the song played many patrons started dancing and singing. My guess is that this is a fairly accurate sample of a bar that is hip enough to fit into the East Village, but patronized by people who come there for conveniences and a good watering hole rather than a scene, after all why not see a band or dance in the East Village?

The bar: The Phoenix on 13th st between Avenue A and 1st Street.

The Scene: A straight friendly gay-bar. Bartenders are male, casual to bordering on grungy. Clientèle is mostly gathered at the bar, I don't remember seeing any females tonight, but I haven been before, and many were there Saturday night. This bar is on a quiet block in a rowdy late-night neighborhood, there is another bar on the block, and several on the next in either direction, but being on 13th instead of 14th or an Avenue makes it relatively hidden. The nearest other gay bar "The Boy's Room" is much more intimidating by comparison, and contains the leather and ass-grabbing that make outsiders uncomfortable.

The Space: After opening the heavy wood door, and attempting to peak through the dungeon-like bars over the windows, The Phoenix reveals itself to be a friendly, yet rather ordinary dive bar with some perks such as a small T.V. in the corner and some private side-rooms that, can be good places to get away from the crowd.

The Juke: A big brassy 100 album classic, with advanced features that allow you to look at the most popular song without playing it. It is close enough to the bar that you could scoot your stool over and make a pick. The selection was surprisingly current and fresh and included a Pitchfork media compilation of 2007's best songs, as well as albums that have been release in the last 2 months (interestingly enough the new Gnarles Barkley). The jukebox has a wide range of hip indie and classic songs, and doens't bear any signs of beeing in a "gay-bar."

The Song: Gloria Jones' "Tainted Love" is a song that almost every rock fan can sing along to. From it's roots as a soul standard about heartbreak it was reborn as a 80's synth smash as covered by the otherwise hitless "Soft Cell." Oddly enough, the Soft Cell treatment is a gay club favorite, but doesn't appear on the generally un-stereotypical jukebox. Perhaps users were attempting to find the next best thing, as this song is buried inconspicuously on a compilation album, a rare spot for most popular songs. This song could be a cry for more selections in the vein of Soft-Cell, gay-standards, synth/dance pop ala "Frankie Goes to Hollywood," or George Michael. It could very well also be the mischief of one regular who feels a special attachment to the song.

The Bar: "Doc Holiday's" on the corner of Avenue A and 8th Street, right across from Tompkins Square Park.

The Scene: A cowboy themed bar that does it's best to capture a small-town honkey tonk but still feels like a New York City bar. The bar offers a tasty and low-cost house beer brewed locally by Sixpoint Brewing, generally doles out cans of PBR and shots of cheap whiskey for patrons trying to drink the experience of redneck USA. The bar has a few grizzled old man regulars, who seem to always be there (yes I go there more often than I'd proudly admit), and a selection of tourists and cross-towners who want to check it out. Because it is also a friendly and fun bar, even without the theme there are some regulars who appreciate another friendly dive in an increasingly hip neighborhood.

The Space: Doc's does look like a faded salon, from touches like planks for floors and out-of-state lisence plates hung up. There is little room to dance, but there generally are a couple dancers, fighting with the pool table, which is nearly always active. The music usually is louder than the conversation and the TV's are on mainly to entertain the regulars who tend to sit at the bar and try to chat up the sexy female bartenders. The feel is dank and somewhat seedy, a little too seedy to be anywhere but New York.

The Juke: Might be the most authentic part of the country feel. Packed with selections from country greats and southern rock rebels, this jukebox feels perfect for the image and the space, a classic 100 song selection box that seems to dominate the bar, plays even when songs aren't requested, but when they are there usually isn't a big wait.

The Song: Charlie Daniels' "Devil Went Down to Georgia," is hardly a country song. At best you could call it a southern rock song that has such mainstream appeal that it has become a soundtrack and classic rock radio staple. The high speed fiddling and nods to bluegrass standards, and devil-may-care, attitude seems cheesy because of it's popularity, but always gets people dancing. This song is most likely naturally selected by people who have never been to a true country dive and imagine this song would represent it well.