As soon as I found out that Made Events was throwing a three day Halloween party extravaganza, which consisted of Danny Tenaglia at Spirit, Lee Burridge at B.E.D. and Richie Hawtin at Cielo, I immediately set my sights on attending the second night. I swore after seeing Danny at Spirit sometime in January of this year that I would never spend my hard earned money on a sell-out and Sunday’s Hawtin could be scratched off too since I had school early Monday morning.

For about a month before the 29th of October, my boyfriend and I made specific plans for the night: I took off all morning shifts so that I would be able to sleep off the aching pains in my mind and body that would ensue from dancing all night long. I also prepared an outrageous and sexy enough outfit that I deemed would work for both the party and my ideal of “different.” I wore this nurse’s costume in 2003 but I fixed it up a little bit this year. The dress was red with black sleeves and white crosses and was made out of plastic. I added a short red wig, a white nurse’s hat, black lace sleeves, Goth.-like bracelets, black thigh high fishnets, black boots and a plastic stethoscope. Needless to say, it was hot as I’m sure you all can imagine.

But lo and behold, my manager didn’t heed my request for Sunday morning off Plans were broken, friends got a little upset and my costume lay in a heap on the floor begging to be worn. As usual, plans changed again as my boyfriend and I gave in to our spontaneous desire to do the right/wrong thing. We just had to be part of our friend Val’s birthday and we already knew she was celebrating it at B.E.D. And I just couldn’t resist seeing our other friend Jay Diggity dressed up as a pimp. If you knew him, you would have to see it too.

At the appropriate time, I got in the shower, spent a ridiculous amount of time meticulously applying my glittery white eyeshadow and matching bright red lipstick. My boyfriend wasn’t planning on going anywhere so he didn’t have an outfit. It’s ok. He’s cute regardless of what he wears.

The anticipation began. Not only was I excited to be going out since I haven’t in so long (last big party for me was Digweed at Spirit) but it was a Halloween Party With Lee Burridge spinning At a new club I’ve never been to The odds were slim. I’m very particular about what makes for a good party. How could I be satisfied in all aspects when usually so many things go wrong? I hadn’t seen Burridge since Arc but I had been hearing so many wonderful things about him, that his style had changed and he had gotten so much better both as a technical DJ and one who was developing his own style. I had heard that from so many people that I trusted, this was one point that was sure to ring true.

My boyfriend and I hopped in a cab, almost trembling in anxiety and anticipation for what we both knew deep in our hearts would be a well-rounded and gratifying night full of surprises, debauchery and non-stop dancing. As the yellow taxi cab pulled up to 27th st and 11th ave., I just couldn’t believe my eyes. A street so well known to me that I’ve been walking down at all odd hours of the night as far back as 1998, looked like the ultimate New York City nightlife circus. “When did all these clubs pop up?” I asked my boyfriend as we looked for the address of 530. There were lines and lines and lines of party people dressed up as trendily as they could, all waiting to take part in particular parties that were appropriate for their interests. I remember walking down this street at 2 am in 1999 towards the line for Kurfew at Tunnel and it was always so damn desolate and creepy and scary Who knew that it would turn into “Club Row” with mounds of people screaming, running, laughing, hugging, dodging taxis, walking in the street all under bright lights and marquees declaring they were the place to be? I thought it was wonderful and sometimes couldn’t catch my breath at the expansiveness of it all. Who said New York City is dead? I sure as hell never did.

We actually stood on the line for Spirit for a few seconds before we realized that it wasn’t B.E.D. B.E.D. in fact, is right next to spirit. The wait was pretty short and before we knew it, we were in a room waiting for the gray elevator door to open to bring us up to the sixth floor. While we were standing there, staring at this door, my boyfriend said “hello” to Bindra and then, suddenly, strangely, we began to move We were already on the elevator which was something like a freight elevator, large enough to take up at least forty people. I began to notice that indeed I wasn’t the only one dressed up as I had previously thought while waiting outside. There were loads of pretty girls doing their best to portray a sexy bunny, sexy nurse, sexy cop, sexy whatever and it was exciting, thrilling and surprisingly, there was never an ounce of jealousy.

The elevator door opened and the entrance to B.E.D. is somewhat similar to Spirit. There’s a long corridor, a turn to the right where contestants buy their tickets and finally enter the main dance floor. As soon as I walked in I knew I liked the place. All I ever ask for in a club is that it is dark with an element of dirtiness without any inkling of pretentiousness. My biggest fear in nightclubs is that it is well-lit, which, I would like to say right now, whoever thought a nightclub was a place where people actually wanted to be seen as they are in daylight, has it all wrong. It was small enough to be considered intimate but large enough to accommodate the amount of people that would show up to see Burridge. All around the main room are the actual “Beds,” pretty large spaces with one gigantic futon like pillow with a table in the middle which usually seats bottle service. They are separated by a wall? sheet? Of some sort which separates the sleepers from the dancers. There’s also a bar that exists before the main room and before that the coatcheck; upstairs a huge, heated outdoor patio, great for the “schmoozers” with nothing better to do than pay $??? to talk shit.

And then the elements that I was so afraid would not add up, were already in unison before I even got there. Burridge was already pelting the crowd with hard, nasty beats that were absolutely relentless. I’ve always said that I know it’ll be a good party if I walk in and already feel the need to dance as hard and as deeply as I can. If I find myself standing, waiting for a groove, the intention of the DJ has lost me and I begin to feel utterly hopeless and almost offended that the DJ cannot get in touch with his audience. But there he was, Burridge, different than when I last left him, but so much better. And in so many ways. There was a distinct style and maturity of sound that wasn’t there in many of his earlier mixes and live sets I heard at arc. It was intelligent, upbeat, NYC, groovy, funky, sometimes dirty and a lot of the times unexpected. I found myself saying, “What the fuck?” and “Oh my God ” and “Did you hear that?” and “This is dope ” I got that grounding in my lungs, in my heart and in my soul that made me close my eyes and bang my head. And then I began to move my feet. And then I couldn’t stop. It seemed like the rest of us couldn’t either.

Looking back, it wasn’t particularly my favorite set. I sure as hell have heard better “sounds.” The mixing of course was smooth and characteristic of an experienced DJ, but there was a personal element that was missing. It was dirty, yes, dark at times, yes. But for me, not enough. I don’t think he was trying to placate the crowd. Burridge is better and beyond that. Sander did that at Crobar once and that’s enough to make me give up on a DJ. I don’t know what it was or why that specific thing was missing, but considering the fact that I hadn’t been out for so long, I was dressed up, it was a nice venue, I was hanging out with a large amount of excellent and dear friends and most importantly the fact that Burridge wouldn’t give me a goddamn second to catch up with him was enough for me to stop being so selfish and nitpick his set. All in all, he made me dance. That’s all I want and need primarily in club land.

You wouldn’t believe it, but there’s an enormous amount of detail I’m leaving out. Friend’s costumes, other’s costumes, quotes, kinds of drinks, side glances, dirty looks, good vibes, high fives, bathrooms, compliments and the like. Left around 3:30 and completely forgot about the extra hour. This was a good time. Till next time..." />
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Lee Burridge @ B.E.D., NYC
by funeralhome: 10-29-2005


As soon as I found out that Made Events was throwing a three day Halloween party extravaganza, which consisted of Danny Tenaglia at Spirit, Lee Burridge at B.E.D. and Richie Hawtin at Cielo, I immediately set my sights on attending the second night. I swore after seeing Danny at Spirit sometime in January of this year that I would never spend my hard earned money on a sell-out and Sunday’s Hawtin could be scratched off too since I had school early Monday morning.

For about a month before the 29th of October, my boyfriend and I made specific plans for the night: I took off all morning shifts so that I would be able to sleep off the aching pains in my mind and body that would ensue from dancing all night long. I also prepared an outrageous and sexy enough outfit that I deemed would work for both the party and my ideal of “different.” I wore this nurse’s costume in 2003 but I fixed it up a little bit this year. The dress was red with black sleeves and white crosses and was made out of plastic. I added a short red wig, a white nurse’s hat, black lace sleeves, Goth.-like bracelets, black thigh high fishnets, black boots and a plastic stethoscope. Needless to say, it was hot as I’m sure you all can imagine.

But lo and behold, my manager didn’t heed my request for Sunday morning off Plans were broken, friends got a little upset and my costume lay in a heap on the floor begging to be worn. As usual, plans changed again as my boyfriend and I gave in to our spontaneous desire to do the right/wrong thing. We just had to be part of our friend Val’s birthday and we already knew she was celebrating it at B.E.D. And I just couldn’t resist seeing our other friend Jay Diggity dressed up as a pimp. If you knew him, you would have to see it too.

At the appropriate time, I got in the shower, spent a ridiculous amount of time meticulously applying my glittery white eyeshadow and matching bright red lipstick. My boyfriend wasn’t planning on going anywhere so he didn’t have an outfit. It’s ok. He’s cute regardless of what he wears.

The anticipation began. Not only was I excited to be going out since I haven’t in so long (last big party for me was Digweed at Spirit) but it was a Halloween Party With Lee Burridge spinning At a new club I’ve never been to The odds were slim. I’m very particular about what makes for a good party. How could I be satisfied in all aspects when usually so many things go wrong? I hadn’t seen Burridge since Arc but I had been hearing so many wonderful things about him, that his style had changed and he had gotten so much better both as a technical DJ and one who was developing his own style. I had heard that from so many people that I trusted, this was one point that was sure to ring true.

My boyfriend and I hopped in a cab, almost trembling in anxiety and anticipation for what we both knew deep in our hearts would be a well-rounded and gratifying night full of surprises, debauchery and non-stop dancing. As the yellow taxi cab pulled up to 27th st and 11th ave., I just couldn’t believe my eyes. A street so well known to me that I’ve been walking down at all odd hours of the night as far back as 1998, looked like the ultimate New York City nightlife circus. “When did all these clubs pop up?” I asked my boyfriend as we looked for the address of 530. There were lines and lines and lines of party people dressed up as trendily as they could, all waiting to take part in particular parties that were appropriate for their interests. I remember walking down this street at 2 am in 1999 towards the line for Kurfew at Tunnel and it was always so damn desolate and creepy and scary Who knew that it would turn into “Club Row” with mounds of people screaming, running, laughing, hugging, dodging taxis, walking in the street all under bright lights and marquees declaring they were the place to be? I thought it was wonderful and sometimes couldn’t catch my breath at the expansiveness of it all. Who said New York City is dead? I sure as hell never did.

We actually stood on the line for Spirit for a few seconds before we realized that it wasn’t B.E.D. B.E.D. in fact, is right next to spirit. The wait was pretty short and before we knew it, we were in a room waiting for the gray elevator door to open to bring us up to the sixth floor. While we were standing there, staring at this door, my boyfriend said “hello” to Bindra and then, suddenly, strangely, we began to move We were already on the elevator which was something like a freight elevator, large enough to take up at least forty people. I began to notice that indeed I wasn’t the only one dressed up as I had previously thought while waiting outside. There were loads of pretty girls doing their best to portray a sexy bunny, sexy nurse, sexy cop, sexy whatever and it was exciting, thrilling and surprisingly, there was never an ounce of jealousy.

The elevator door opened and the entrance to B.E.D. is somewhat similar to Spirit. There’s a long corridor, a turn to the right where contestants buy their tickets and finally enter the main dance floor. As soon as I walked in I knew I liked the place. All I ever ask for in a club is that it is dark with an element of dirtiness without any inkling of pretentiousness. My biggest fear in nightclubs is that it is well-lit, which, I would like to say right now, whoever thought a nightclub was a place where people actually wanted to be seen as they are in daylight, has it all wrong. It was small enough to be considered intimate but large enough to accommodate the amount of people that would show up to see Burridge. All around the main room are the actual “Beds,” pretty large spaces with one gigantic futon like pillow with a table in the middle which usually seats bottle service. They are separated by a wall? sheet? Of some sort which separates the sleepers from the dancers. There’s also a bar that exists before the main room and before that the coatcheck; upstairs a huge, heated outdoor patio, great for the “schmoozers” with nothing better to do than pay $??? to talk shit.

And then the elements that I was so afraid would not add up, were already in unison before I even got there. Burridge was already pelting the crowd with hard, nasty beats that were absolutely relentless. I’ve always said that I know it’ll be a good party if I walk in and already feel the need to dance as hard and as deeply as I can. If I find myself standing, waiting for a groove, the intention of the DJ has lost me and I begin to feel utterly hopeless and almost offended that the DJ cannot get in touch with his audience. But there he was, Burridge, different than when I last left him, but so much better. And in so many ways. There was a distinct style and maturity of sound that wasn’t there in many of his earlier mixes and live sets I heard at arc. It was intelligent, upbeat, NYC, groovy, funky, sometimes dirty and a lot of the times unexpected. I found myself saying, “What the fuck?” and “Oh my God ” and “Did you hear that?” and “This is dope ” I got that grounding in my lungs, in my heart and in my soul that made me close my eyes and bang my head. And then I began to move my feet. And then I couldn’t stop. It seemed like the rest of us couldn’t either.

Looking back, it wasn’t particularly my favorite set. I sure as hell have heard better “sounds.” The mixing of course was smooth and characteristic of an experienced DJ, but there was a personal element that was missing. It was dirty, yes, dark at times, yes. But for me, not enough. I don’t think he was trying to placate the crowd. Burridge is better and beyond that. Sander did that at Crobar once and that’s enough to make me give up on a DJ. I don’t know what it was or why that specific thing was missing, but considering the fact that I hadn’t been out for so long, I was dressed up, it was a nice venue, I was hanging out with a large amount of excellent and dear friends and most importantly the fact that Burridge wouldn’t give me a goddamn second to catch up with him was enough for me to stop being so selfish and nitpick his set. All in all, he made me dance. That’s all I want and need primarily in club land.

You wouldn’t believe it, but there’s an enormous amount of detail I’m leaving out. Friend’s costumes, other’s costumes, quotes, kinds of drinks, side glances, dirty looks, good vibes, high fives, bathrooms, compliments and the like. Left around 3:30 and completely forgot about the extra hour. This was a good time. Till next time...

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