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The joke goes that anyone who went to Studio 54 and remembers it didn't really experience it at all. Luckily, the information superhighway is here to remind us. And since the ur-disco opened 33 years ago tonight, there's no better time to take a fuzzy look back. In 1980, 14-year old Brooke Shields starred in a scandalous Calvin Klein ad campaign. 29 years later, she stars in commercials for every company but Calvin Klein. Woody Allen and Michael Jackson: Who knew these two would grow up to have so much in common? Rumor has it, Studio 54 is where Suzanne Somers first dreamed up the ThighMaster. Grace Jones and Bianca Jagger on a typical Monday at the office. Look closely: that's your dad holding down Grace's fur tarp. Mick Jagger and Truman Capote were at Studio 54 enough to be mistaken for furniture. Which you really didn't want to be mistaken for at Studio 54. The typical crowd outside "Sondheim On Sondheim", currently playing at 254 West 54th Street. At least some of 54's bygone hedonism lives on in the sex parties allegedly being thrown in the space above it! Photos via Gothamist via Life

"After an amazing 5 years Cain will be closing it's doors. Please join us for an unforgettable night on Wednesday March 24th at 11pm to help us celebrate," -Jamie Mulholland, owner of Cain. Yup, after climbing to the top of the West 27th Street bottle service heap, the safari-themed lounge is beating its final drum.* Marquee is still around, though its owners and famed doormen have moved onto younger child Avenue. Bungalow 8 is constantly rumored to be on the chopping block. An underage girl was murdered after drinking at Guest House. And a man fell to his death in since-closed B.E.D.'s elevator shaft. Frankly we're impressed Cain prospered for as long as it did, especially given shifting tastes and a recession that all but eliminated bottle service as the dominant nightlife form. But as a wise Minnesotan once said, "parties weren't made to last." We are glad that all energies with Mulholland and co. will now be focused on what is really important: Montauk. [All Cain Posts]

According to the New York Post and New York magazine, the answer is a disturbing yes. Ever since Fashion Week kicked off, the rock 'n roll relic has been spotted all over town, staging impromptu concerts and reminding us, like geriatric Mick Jagger before him, that age doesn't matter if you still know how to party. Or something. Beginning with his performance (both on and off-stage) at John Varvatos and L'Uomo Vogue's NYFW kick-off party, Axl's bender has not gone unnoticed among the city's movers and shakers. He's been spotted with guitar in tow everywhere from Rose Bar (where he serenaded a Twitterific crowd on Valentine's Day) to Greenhouse, where co-owner Barry Mullineaux christened a pink cocktail "the Axl Rose" in the rocker's honor. Among his co-conspirators, we've spotted Kevin Bacon and wife Kyra Sedgwick, Caleb Followill of Kings of Leon, Scarlett Johannsen, and…Sebastian Bach? That's the only one that seems logical. Where else has Axl been during this Big Apple bender? Friday, February 12: Plays a set at John Varvatos' store in the old CBGB; heads to Greenhouse where he stays until 8 a.m. (With Varvatos at right.) Sunday, February 14: Parties with fellow 80's rocker Sebastian Bach at 1oak before moving party to his room at the Essex House Hotel. Monday, February 15: Plays a private concert at Gramercy Park Hotel's Rose Bar before heading to a private room with Bach and another Reagan era fossil, actor Mickey Rourke. Friday, February 19: Swings from chandeliers (figuratively) at the Box, then continues the revelry at Mike's apartment, a secret party loft on Great Jones and Lafayette. Sunday, February 21: Terrorizes Meatpacking's Standard Hotel and, again, Greenhouse. Wednesday, February 24: Plays ping-pong with Scarlet Johansson at SPiN before heading to Avenue and Mike's apartment. Friday, February 26: Axl hits a grand slam, starting at the Box, then hitting GoldBar, SL, and Mike's apartment with the Black Eyed Peas. We're exhausted just looking at that. But it begs a great question: Where will Axl go next? What stones has he left unturned? What does this week hold? It's a new month chock full of new opportunities to smash guitars, swill pink drinks, and generally act like a teenager. Axl shows no signs of slowing down, and for that, we are thankful. Keep up with Axl's shenanigans on his Twitter! [Photos via PMc.]

Jesse Malin's East Village rock den Cabin Down Below regularly draws night owls away from Top of the Standard come 2 am. Now his latest spot, Black Market, is stealing even mighty Kenmare's thunder. Has underdog punk Malin reached the top of NYC's nightlife totem pole? A* Tuesday night preview at Black Market drew the likes of Bono, Michael Stipe, Natalie Portman, Kirsten Dunst, Jason Schwartzman, Spike Jonze and the Olsen twins (look down and you'll see them). The wingding was in honor of fancy pants clothing line Rodarte and during Fashion Week, which inflated the guest list. But it bodes well for the Avenue A newcomer (and poorly for local peasants hoping to check it out for themselves). It also confirms that Malin has stealthily joined the roster of NYC nightlife heavyweights. Malin is an unlikely Olsen magnet, and that's a good thing. The punk veteran fronted local hardcore band Heart Attack at the ripe old age of 13. The group played its final show in 1984 at CBGB (Malin was a regular and appeared in Burning Down the House, a great doc about the iconic punk bar). He went on to form bands with names like PCP Highway and Bellevue and was the lead singer of D Generation for 8 years. Coney Island High, Malin's beloved rock bar and performance venue on St. Marks Place is gone (its closure in 1999 was one of the final nails in that street's pierced, tattooed coffin), but he's had a resurgence lately with Bowery Electric,* Cabin and Black Market (upstairs from Cabin, in the former Pizza Shop, another Malin joint). But has he sold out? What's a veteran East Village punk doing hosting a party for Rodarte? As another Fashion Week bites the dust and thankfully takes some star wattage with it, Black Market will hopefully relax into a solid, rock-tinged neighborhood joint. The sweaty, puke-stained ghost of CBGB* would not abide another velvet rope.

East Villagers were displeased when Superdive brought flip-cup and "keg service" to their once-edgy hood. But EVGrieve tells us things are about to get worse with the opening of The 13th Step (from the folks behind literary salons Down the Hatch, Off the Wagon and Jake's Dilemma) in the old Telephone Bar space. Superdive is an atrocity. And it taunts locals by being on the constant verge of closure. But between the winking name and over-the-top frat boy ridiculousness of the place (pour your own drinks! bring your own roofies!), you've got to assume it's in on the joke, even if none of the popped-collared douchery inside is. So it is with a heavy, nicotine-stained heart that the few holdouts left from the neighborhood's revolutionary heyday greet The 13th Step. Why so serious? Consider the "testimonials" included on the websites of 13th Step's sisters bars. There's also Down the Hatch ("Hip, cool, young, rocking," with a kitchen run by Atomic Wings!), Off the Wagon (something about a "crazy protractor forehead" and a quote from someone charmingly labeled "Drunk Lady"). And don't forget Jake's Dilemma ("If you venture downstairs, you won't believe your eyes" if you see a bathroom clear of vomit). We wish the team behind The 13th Step would take a cue from their "clever" AA-inspired bar names and become anonymous. See you at Mars Bar, where the real alcoholics hang out.

Nightlife fixture Steve Lewis celebrated his birthday last Tuesday night at Lit, and even got behind the turn tables to DJ for a song or two. In his own words, "It's my party, and I'll DJ if I want to!" - "It's not going to be that special, you know." Mr.Lewis wrote. "No swinging from the chandeliers or lamp shades on my head. I may have a drink or three." The birthday boy may have complied with his "no swinging from the chandeliers" prediction, but some of his guests may have certainly come close to it. In addition to the guest of honor, the venue was filled with scores of Pretty Young Things who definitely seemed to have opted for the "or three" drink policy, though we would expect nothing less from a party thrown by the Nightlife King. As for the venue, Mr.Lewis explains his choice: "I am doing my party at Lit because it is the best place in twon. It's not just a great bar, as it has that sexy subterranean room where I get turned on and out every time. It also is home to the Fuse Gallery, and I find that magical." Lit has come into a bit of trouble lately with the crackdown on smoking indoors (ehrm, yeah, sorry about that whole thing...), so who knows how many more nights like this one are in its future. Perhaps it is with the venue's uncertain future in mind that everyone partied hard, and it wasn't until early morning that anyone uttered "Good night, Mr.Lewis." - [All photos via Kirillwashere]

Pssst, there’s a new hidden bar on the LES. No, no one knows where it is. Yeah, it was a taco stand or brothel or fallout shelter or something. To get in, you descend the stairs, cartwheel through the kitchen, dry hump the busboy and…zzzzzzzzzzz. Breaking news: the Eighteenth Amendment was repealed. But we’d welcome a prohibition on New York’s speakeasy revival. The new wave of speakeasies kicked off with Sasha Petraske’s Milk & Honey. The door was unmarked and the number unlisted. Only regulars who followed the house rules (No Fighting, No Star Fucking, Gentlemen Will Remove Their Hats) knew who to call to get in. But these gimmicks came second to the main attraction: bartenders (yes, time to put the word “mixologist” to rest too) who made a mean cocktail. Milk & Honey was a hit. And the inevitable imitators ( The Back Room, Employees Only, La Esquina) jumped on the covert bandwAMEagon. In the last year or so, the speakeasy trend has gone into hyperdrive with SubMercer, Woodson & Ford,* Raines Law Room, Cabin Down Below, Su Casa, the (now-shuttered) Cafe Select backroom and Uo to name a few. Speakeasies thrive for obvious reasons. They are exclusive, but subtly so. At some point in the last five years, the brash elitism on display at places like Bungalow 8, Marquee and Cain went out of style. The wave of “it” destinations that followed ostensibly shunned the sort of excess (velvet ropes, beefy bouncers, membership cards, bottle service) that, especially post-Recession, dated those 27th Street hotspots.* (There have been exceptions of course, like Matt Levine’s LES litter box The Eldridge.) Hidden bars, then, appear to be modest ventures. But they exist solely to flatter their patrons, convincing them that they’ve dodged the tasteless cliches lining the Meatpacking District and West Chelsea for a more refined, off-the-beaten-path alternative. In the end, they’ve merely replaced Marquee as the place to go to avoid the riff-raff. And there’s nothing modest about that. There’s also the self-flattery that comes with “being in the know” and leading friends or a date through some convoluted labyrinth of an entrance before being granted the privilege of paying $15 for a mediocre cocktail. The biggest joke with modern speakeasies is that these days it’s hard to not know about them. It’s no coincidence that secret bars exploded in popularity at the same time and wrote Secret’s 140-character obituary. (Speaking of stale trends, shouldn’t we all be over Facebook and texting now that our mothers are hooked on them?) Today’s twenty-somethings are used to the idea of all of their friends knowing exactly where they are at any given moment. Any illusion of mystery seems welcome. But that feeling of falling off the grid often results in someone tweeting about how happy they are to have fallen off the grid; people just can’t resist. Sure, the internet (including, we’ll admit, sites like ours) is largely responsible for the silly contradictions of the new speakeasies. But speakeasies, in becoming so inescapable, also have themselves to blame. Hidden Bars That Get A Pass: Chumley’s. 86 Bedford Street. For its history. (Currently closed for renovations) Bill’s Gay Nineties. 57 E. 54 Street. For its history and awesomely misleading name. Milk & Honey. 134 Eldridge Street. For its innovation. Angel’s Share: 8 Stuyvesant Street.* For date nights. PDT. 113 St. Mark’s Place. For its hot dogs.

[Famous Chopsticks from Indochine. © Used by permission; photo by Mark Igashino From Indochine published 2009 by Rizzoli International New York] In New York, a restaurant that makes it 10 years might as well qualify for a plaque from the Landmarks Preservation Commission. So you’ve got to hand it to Indochine as the Lafayette Street classic celebrates its 25th Anniversary with a party, and a book! More photos and story below… Indochine was one of the first hangouts to straddle the uptown and downtown scenes as the two began to conflate in the art- and junk bond-fueled ’80s. Consider the placement on Indochine’s boldface name-studded seating chart (in Page Six on September 14th, 1997, and on the back of the party invite for tonight) of Ivana Trump and Ed Koch just a spring roll’s throw away from Marc Jacobs and David Bowie. Speaking of seating charts, Indochine was among the first joints to apply them below 14th Street (and, unlike the Four Seasons,* to a hot crowd not nearing Depends age). Always ahead of the curve, the French-colonial spot also foresaw the foodie fusion trend that no one could escape in the ’90s. As we mentioned earlier, Indochine’s influence can be spotted all over town. But you really ought to take in the real thing. Nothing beats an original, and few, if any, of Indochine’s wan imitators can boast the following: Andy Warhol partied here. Read what other famous NYC figures have to say about Indochine, and go buy the book, published exclusively by Rizzoli, for more exclusive photos and quotes from one of the best. Check back tomorrow for our coverage of the anniversary party! André Balazs: “Indochine is somehow a place that one constantly stumbles back into and rediscovers. A long stretch of time will pass by and suddenly you’ll go back and realize, “This is so great.†Like all good public places, it has layers of veneer, all of which contribute to its success—it’s not just the food, it’s not just the room, it’s not just the social part, or the location, it’s all of them, and Indochine has that unique combination.” Andrea Rosen: “Indochine opened the same year that I moved to New York, in 1984. So there’s an interesting trajectory with what I consider my own history in New York.” Jason Pomeranc: “I recall going to Indochine in its early years as a teen, when I was lucky enough to be invited by my brothers or older friends. I was too young to experience the heyday of studio 54 and Xenon, but I recall having a complete sensory overload, as the energy was so powerful in the room…To truly capture the essence of Indochine, you need to see it on a night not filled with supermodels, rock stars, and celebrities, but rather during their legendary staff Christmas parties. They are wild, theatrical and completely unique.” [© Used by permission; From Indochine published 2009 by Rizzoli International New York] Cindy Crawford: “Stephen Knoll threw this big bash for me at Indochine in early ’05. It was a total blowout, a “this could only happen in New York†kind of party. It had the beautiful people plus the eccentrics, the trannies, the Dirty Martini girl wearing the pasties. It didn’t let you down.” Stephen Knoll: “If you know that an event is going to be at Indochine, it’s going to be a great party. It’s going to be a good time. Indochine has the right vibe. I just felt like if there was any place to give a party in NY, that was the place for me.” Jorg Rae:“There must be some spice in the food that makes pregnant women give birth. Cindy Crawford, Sarah Jessica Parker, Christy Turlington, and recently Naomi Watts, gave birth within twelve to forty-eight hours of having a meal at Indochine. Probably just a coincidence, though. But then again…” Athena Calderone: “I went into labor at Indochine on Valentines night in 2003. I’ve heard a number of famous women also went into labor after eating there. It’s gone on to become a bit of an urban myth. Many women have asked me what I ate that night. It was the number 26, red snapper with spicy sweet and sour pimento sauce.” Padma Lakshmi: “The food is fantastic, and it’s pretty consistent. Not only is it delicious, but it’s pretty light and clean. So, if you’re trying to watch your weight, or detox from Top Chef, it’s not a bad place to go.” Roman Alonzo: “The food has never changed, but somehow we never got sick of it. How many of those spring rolls can you eat? A lot, I guess! I think its success has to do with the lighting too. It’s the most attractive lighting. We like to see each other in it.” Cindy Crawford: “When I lived in New York, in the Police Building, I’d go to Indochine on Sunday nights for takeout. It felt like the neighborhood place.” Ann Dexter-Jones: “I love the soups, the fish, especially the Chilean seabass-they cook it in this wonderful broth. And what’s nice is, and what I love about that kind of food is, everyone orders something different…it’s like eating off somebody else’s plate. I’m one of those people who wants what’s across the table, because I’d like to order everything. That’s why I love Asian food. I love to share. Having five children, just to eliminate any squabbles of what’s mine and what’s yours, I repeated my mantra to them: “We love to share, don’t we.— Fran Lebowitz: “The thing that I most like there are the dumplings. You’re supposed to share them, but I do not. And when people say, “Let’s get some dumplings,†I say: “Fine, let’s get some, and I will also get some.” [photo above: Marc Jacobs, © Used by permission; Photo by Arthur Elgort, 1991 From Indochine 2009 published by Rizzoli International, New York]

[bella's ®, Southside (L)] Anthony and Tom Martignetti will toast the 1st birthday of their Soho club, Southside, on November 5th (invite below). But what are they really celebrating? Besides its name, little about the venue has changed since the brothers brought a loyal preppy crowd to 1 Cleveland Place in 2006 with Bar Martignetti and its downstairs bar, Bella’s.* What’s actually being recognized next Thurdsay is a time-honored tactic used by bars to stay relevant in NYC by putting a fresh spin on the same old formula that brought them initial success. To pack in fickle New York crowds, clubs have to reinvent themselves. Even if a venue appears to be going strong (as Bella’s did when it became Southside last fall), overhauls are not unheard of. Still, as much as nightspots like to shed their own pasts, they often look back in time for inspiration. And so Southside mimicked the palm fronds and reservation policy of Bungalow 8, which itself recalled the tropical motif of Indochine, the cokey ’80s celeb magnet (who are celebrating their own 25th Anniversary with a party tonight at Bergdorfs). And of course, Bella’s was widely seen as a downtown satellite of pearl and pastel-friendly Dorrian’s. In their race to avoid becoming cliches, club owners constantly rely on a big one: everything old is new again.

Yesterday, Activision released DJ Hero, the latest in a wildly popular series of videogames (Guitar Hero, Rock Band) that let us drunkenly feign musical talent. Before you convince yourself of your spinning talent however, you should check out these legitimate NYC DJs as they get the club going. DJ James Murphy: The man behind LCD Soundsystem made disco cool again. As if that weren’t enough, Murphy also penned the melancholic “New York I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down,” this decade’s best paean to the city. Check out a party thrown by Murphy’s funky DFA label to get your Studio 54 on. The Misshapes: Hipsters across the city wept into their PBRs when the Misshapes infamous Friday night residence at Don Hill’s ended in 2007. But the trio continues to bring its slick mix of indie and britpop to festively-attired crowds at frequent local events. DJ Timmy Regisford: New York’s biggest contribution to the global club scene is the kind of deep, soulful house that this downtown fixture has spun for years at afterhours institution (in many ways) Club Shelter, now at Greenhouse. If you’ve never stepped out of a club and into the harsh sunlight, Regisford is the man to see. DJ Derek Plaslaiko: Murphy might have brought back the past, but Plaslaiko has his eyes set on the future. He honed his skills in Detroit’s thriving techno scene before settling in New York in 2004. You can catch him the first Friday of each month at Public Assembly’s sublime Bunker shindig. DJ Alexandra Richards: Daughter of immortal cryptkeeper Keith, Alexandra Richards is a girl about town who, when not posing for pictures, occasionally mans the DJ booth. She’s got the musical genes, but might want to drop the rock royalty ‘tude before she pisses off one club owner too many. DJ Connie: Queens native Connie Yin gets people dancing in clubs (Love, Sullivan Room, Cielo) and underground parties (thrown by Blk Market Membership) with her brand of Berlin-style minimal techno. She’s also taken it upon herself to break up New York’s testosterone-heavy DJ scene by teaching women how to spin like pros. - -

Go HERE for more photos by DYLAN ARMAJANI and tag yourself and your friends! Give credit to Diesel for upstaging its own famous denim in the name of a good party. Last night, the company celebrated its new line of glow-in-the-dark apparel with a Flash For Fun bash at Love, the neon and stalactite-themed Village club somehow reminiscent of both underground raves and Fraggle Rock. Diesel gave guests not form-fitting jeans, but glowsticks, face paint and fluorescent eyebrows. As the crowd swayed to house music pumped through Love’s sweet defibrillator of a soundsystem, a man dressed as a white bunny carried a translucent backpack full of glowing rave paraphernalia (the legal kind) and encouraged the packed room to go down the rabbit hole. (Vodka and beer courtesy of Diesel helped them along). Spank Rock was their “special guest,” emerging out of neon balloons. As things kicked into high gear and a line of expectant partiers outside continued to snake around the corner, one reveler, sans top, bravely straddled a cold tub of beer. Flash for fun, indeed. [Can Diesel Top The Biggest International Party Ever?] -

A big, family style dim sum restaurant is where most people go to eat away their hangovers. There’s no better fix for the the bleary-eyed masses than chicken feet wheeled straight out to their Lazy Susan-adorned tables. But in a brilliant business move, the folks down at Chinatown dim sum banquet hall 88 Palace have decided to not only cure hungover misery, but to cause it. Starting last fall, 88 Palace’s cavernous restaurant space has turned itself into a riotous club on select nights. *Revelers enter through what looks like a Chinese mall, ascend a flight of stairs and find themselves in the midst of one of Manhattan’s more frenetic dance floors. The music veers toward the electronic, though when we stumbled upon it during last week’s CMJ festival, upstart rock bands were also playing the eccentric, floor-through space. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * If the music and hipster-heavy crowd don’t transport you, the golden dragons lining the walls will. There’s also a full bar to whisk you away. And if you insist on lighting up, the mall’s nifty location directly under the Manhattan Bridge provides shelter from whatever storms come Chinatown’s way. 88 Palace not only restores our faith in mall entertainment (we’re looking at you Debbie Gibson), but let’s us nosh and hazily recall a good night’s memories in the same place they were formed. 88 Palace:*88 East Broadway [Photo via Nicky Digital].

Cipriani’s Upstairs. It was the spot of GofG’s first party post ever (when we caught a certain famous Mortimer flashing our camera’s way back in May of ‘07). This downtown institution has had it’s fair share of drama, but there’s no denying that it has managed to out stand the test of time, it’s Sunday night karoke parties is still one of the hottest games in town. So why are they closing their doors this Sunday?! Relax. Team Cipriani, made up of Giuseppe Cipriani and his sons Giuseppe and Maggio Cipriani, along with Max Burgio have a giant remodel up their sleeves. They plan on closing down their doors after this Sunday in order to redo the space which they will then re-open around Thanksgiving time. But not before they throw a giant party to celebrate. They are teaming up with Derek and Daniel Koch from The Dual Groupe to host a giant double header Halloween party. This Saturday, the first “Day & Night of the Living Dead” brunch will take place at Revel, the new location the boys moved to (from Merkato 55). Afterward, everyone will head to Cipriani Downtown Upstairs for “Day & Night HALLOWEEN” party. The renovations for the space will go into full swing after this party. Get your reservations this weekend, for one last look at the party spot you couldn’t get into when you first moved to NYC. Invites below…

New York’s highest court ruled yesterday that the owners of gargantuan apartment complexes Stuyvesant Town and Peter Cooper Village owe 4,000 of their tenants an estimated $200 million in damages after charging too much in rent. (Hey, New York’s highest court, when will I get my happy verdict?) There are many wise things the winners could do with this money, but why not spend it on food and booze at these nearby watering holes first? Keybar: 432 E. 13th Street The East Village bar scene is rife with happy hour deals. But when it comes to longevity, Keybar just might be tops: its 2-for-1 drink offer extends all the way to 10pm. The bartenders are friendly and alarmingly generous with their pours. Drinks range from martinis and (surprisingly good) Manhattans to German beers the size of your head. Weekends are to be avoided, but Peter Cooper and Stuy Town tenants are close enough to duck in during the week and beat the crowds. Artichoke Basille’s Pizza: 328 E. 14th Street Delighted food critics and locals just can’t get enough of this perpetually mobbed Staten Island import,*despite erratic hours and relatively hefty tabs. The immense, gooey artichoke slice and crispy sicilian squares draw the most raves, but Artichoke does a bang-up traditional pizza as well. Toast your settlement over a cold beer before taking your food on the road, because even the most modest Stuy Town apartments are probably bigger than this diminutive joint. Crocodile Lounge: 325 E. 14th Street There’s no reason to blow your share of the $200 million right away. Stay frugal at this 14th street bar, where beers are served alongside complimentary pizza. The pies aren’t exactly Artichoke quality, but who cares when they come as an award for drinking? You can keep a record of your big celebration with a turn in Crocodile Lounge’s photo booth. And if you feel like adding to your big haul, try your hand at trivia on Wednesday nights at 8:30pm.

Author Teri Woods is suing SoHo’s eco-friendly nightclub Greenhouse for $1 billion, claiming doormen refused entry to her and 175 guests she’d invited to a book release party because they were black. But a tipster tells us that owner Barry Mullineaux might have a more pressing problem on his hands, in the form of a triple stabbing. Writes our source: “stabbing happened @ Greenhouse Sunday Morning/after Saturday night, 3 people were knifed, one was a bouncer and one person was stabbed 3 times. Police locked everyone in for a while, crime scene. Guy got it near the heart.” Guest of a Guest is awaiting confirmation on this report. Of course, it’s terrible news if true. It might also explain why Woods and her friends were denied entry. (The alleged events occurred on the same night.) And it goes to show that, sometimes, the only thing worse than being kept out of a club is being locked in.