We need a dance party, and we need it bad. Goldteeth lost his day job to this recession, and you know that means there is a shit ton of pent up plotting that needs to be unleashed.

Le Poisson Rouge has been kind enough to invite us to start fucking up the west side, and we're starting a whole new party in their gallery bar on the first Friday of every month. Mark your calenders and holler at your dealers in advance. It's about to be the Superbowl of singers on Bleecker.