moby in miami
Post #234 • March 12, 2004, 7:06 AM • 1 Comment
Moby's journal is a fascinating account by someone who has every right to act like a famous person, but just can't bring himself to do it. He was here on Miami Beach recently for the Winter Music Conference.
i'm getting ready to go down to miami for the winter music conference and the dancestar awards. i haven't been to miami in years, i wonder if it'll be warm and nice and if i'll be able to swim in the ocean and yes, i know i sound like a 7 year old. on tuesday night at the dancestar awards i'll be doing a version of 'walk on the wild side' with perry farrel and paul van dyk. i love the idea of perry singing 'walk on the wild side', it almost seems as if the song were written for him. and it's got a line about miami, so it somehow seems relevant. and the 'new york city is the place where they say "hey babe, take a walk on the wild side"' which is possibly one of my favorite song lyrics of all time, even if the 21st century version of the song would probably be: 'new york city is the place where they say "well, the co-op board is pretty tough but i think that as you're making an all cash offer of $3.5 million they should be fairly accepting as long as you don't have any pets"' or 'new york city is the place where they say "i can't wait to get home and take off my mahnolo's and have some foix-gras". new york still has it's fair share of degeneracy and debauchery, it's just not as Times-Square-1977-Shattered-Jean-Genie-Etc visible as it used to be. and the trannie hookers in the meat packing district might have been replaced by models in town cars(not too dissimilar now that i think about it) and the peep shows in times square might have been replaced by stores selling 'finding nemo' merchandise, but new york is still a wonderful place to live and occasionally plum the depths of depravity. ok, off to myjammy.
in miami. here's what's good: i went for a walk by the beach tonight and the beach was desolate and there was a big, full moon hanging over the ocean and i took some really nice pictures of the moon and it's reflection on the waves. then i went back to my hotel but they wouldn't let me in the beach entrance because of a private party. so i got to walk a mile through a construction site filled with puke and then through hordes of drunks and a throng of revelers who were just trying to get into the nightclub in the hotel where i'm staying. so after breaking out the machete and hacking my way through the crowd of aspiring celebrants i finally made my way to the velvet rope in front of the hotel where after a thorough look i was deemed worthy to enter the hotel and come back to my room(i felt so privileged, even if i can't spell). so my verdict on miami tonight: the weather's beautiful and the desolate midnight beach with the full moon is sublime, but the throngs of aggressive drunks in muscle-t's do definitely make me want to go back to cold, snowy nyc. and the 'hotel as nightclub as hotel as etc' is definitely an interesting phenomenon, but i imagine that as i'm trying to fall asleep with ludacris booming out of the speakers right below my window i might be less charitably disposed towards hotels where the focus is on staying awake as opposed to getting to sleep. but then again this is a party festival in a party town so i should probably keep my cranky woody-allen-esque new york criticisms to myself. but like i said, i'll be a lot less diplomatic and charitable when the dj plays 'move, bitch, get out the way' for the 3rd time at 4 a.m. nothing like loud misogynistic hip-hop at 4 a.m when you're trying to sleep to make you long for an old, fancy hotel room where everything is q u i e t...
March 9, again:
ok, the 'milkshake' song is great. no doubt about it. but it's greatness is sorely compromised when it's being played at top volume outside of your hotel room window every 20 minutes.
March 9, again:
after being subjected to hip hop beneath my window until 3 a.m a part of me now, at 9 a.m, wants to get a big pot from the kitchen and bang it in the courtyard yelling 'quiet! quiet!'(a la bart simpson when marge is pregnant). miami is not for early risers.
you know, i did in fact just find myself fantasizing about one of those posh hotels where the door shuts and the room is enveloped in pure, undisturbed quiet. have you ever stayed in a fancy hotel where that's been the case? and then you get into bed and the sheets are all nice and soft and the pillows are just right and the curtains block out all of the daylight and you can just sleep the undisturbed sleep of the undisturbed quasi-bourgeoisie. this hotel might have certain charms for people who want to party like it's 1989, but sitting here at 1 a.m listening to the libidinous throngs(in libidinous thongs)and their libidinous songs makes me almost get fetishistic about the thought of a quiet, dark, fancy hotel room. i stayed at the 4 seasons in berlin a few years ago and i was in a suite and the bedroom had no windows and it was perfect and quiet and dark. all hotels should be perfect and quiet and dark. well, i guess it's profoundly foolish of me to come to miami and complain about the lack of quiet and dark, especially seeing as miami has made it's reputation for being shiny and loud. people don't come here looking for quiet and dark(ironic that miami used to be a repository for retirees), they come here looking for loud and bright. the dj played interpol just recently, and, not to be too much of a snob, but i'd rather be kept awake listening to interpol than kept awake listening to the same hip-hop song over and over again. see, i'm a bonafide cranky new yorker.
home from miami. new york might be cold and it might be beach-less, but it's home and i think it's the most beautiful place in the world(except for northern arizona, and the scottish highlands are pretty great, and new zealand is nice). i put up some pictures from my trip, if'n you wanna have a look-see. time to eat spaghetti.