Book Extras & Exclusive Cut Content

A compilation some of the most interesting content that was cut from Nightlife Lessons The Book below.

Introduction:

Working in nightlife gave me the perspective that anything is possible. I had started from a point of failure, but with an open mind, discipline, and creativity, I was able to partner with some really smart and talented people, innovate existing technology, and grow JoonBug a hugely successful enterprise.

From persistence to personality, creativity to loyalty, nightlife taught me valuable lessons and gave me the building blocks to successfully segue from JoonBug to many other business ventures and investments. This book is about those lessons and how I learned them.

Chapter 3:

Some of the more memorable NYC nightclub promoters were unbelievable characters back in the day!

Justin Pulitzer

JoonBug had a rival of sorts in Coyote Promotions, run by a guy named Justin Pulitzer, a marketing whiz kid who didn’t even make a pretense of trying to appear stylish. He had an almost stereotypically nerdy aesthetic, from his clothes and hair to his website, complete with a howling coyote graphic on the homepage.

His promotion strategy was mostly concerned with algorithmic marketing techniques. He was obsessed with perfectly tweaking his SEO and fine-tuning his AdWords strategy, trying to get the most clicks. But he was always frustrated, because no matter what he did, he couldn’t outrank JoonBug. Our viral growth had created real organic traffic that couldn’t be beat, with old users returning and new users subscribing continuously to see their photos and find the best events!

Nevertheless, he did build up a successful promotions company, persuading various low-tier clubs to work with him. He would always show up with a crowd of the good, bad, and ugly who had subscribed to his website’s guest list, plus a select group of nerdy girls he’d skimmed from the top and convinced to join his entourage!

Marc Biron

Promotions in the nineties would now definitely be considered old-school, but Marc Biron was considered old-school even back then. He’d been around since the early 80’s, promoting clubs like Studio 54. I started JoonBug when I was about twenty-four, and most of the guys I’ve named were my age, or at most five years older. But Marc was probably in his early forties, tall and skinny with slicked-back hair that sparkled with silver threads. He always wore nice designer suits and had a very thick French accent, which, combined with his habit of speaking very quickly, made him hard to understand during the day and completely incomprehensible inside any loud nightclub.

But he was constantly in the scene and had a lot of industry connections. All he had to do for work was make an hour-long appearance at a few clubs per night, always accompanied by one or more beautiful girls who were usually much younger than he was. Looking back, my guess is that they were probably teenagers from out of town, flattered to be getting into the most exclusive nightclubs in NYC, VIP-style! Aside from bringing along his bevy of pretty girls, Marc would also round up some well-heeled patrons who would be sure to pay exorbitant prices for bottle service. This earned him either a flat fee or a portion of the night’s profits, depending on the deal he had struck with the club’s owner or promoter.

Marc also made a lot of money from referrals. By building up his extensive network of contacts in NYC, he was able to get in touch with event planners for various big businesses and corporations. They would do large events and turn to him for help, and he would refer them to various venues in return for a large referral fee. I don’t know exactly how much a person can make doing that kind of thing, but it must have been good; Marc lived in a posh apartment in the Upper East Side and usually drove a late-model BMW to his nightly club appearances.

All in all, Marc was the kind of person who always just seemed happy. Whenever he ran into friends, he’d give them a kiss on each cheek, guy or girl. He was bubbly, super-social, very approachable, and had a way of walking up to any group or person and becoming a part of the social circle immediately. In the moment, he was very memorable, but overall, he was kind of a fleeting character that you’d forget about until the next time you ran into him.

Noel Ashman

One of the first nightclubs that Ariana and I did regular events for was Veruka, owned by Noel Ashman. Like Noah Tepperberg, Jason Strauss, and Craig Koenig, he had gotten started with promotion in high school and from there grew a quite successful business.

Veruka was a cool downtown venue with two floors, and Noel was big on bringing in talented, up-and-coming DJs like Marc and Samantha Ronson and DJ Stretch Armstrong. The dance floor was so small, you could see them spinning three feet away!

I first met Noel at Veruka, and as we talked, the subject of JoonBug came up. It seemed like a lightbulb lit up above his head, and shortly after that, he called me asking about doing a regular JoonBug party at Veruka on Friday nights. Since we were just starting out, Ariana and I were flattered, and for nearly two years we promoted that party through our website, as well as showing up in person at Veruka with our friends every Friday night.

I got to know Noel well during that time. He was a very busy guy, always running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to get the 10,000 tasks on his list done. Besides Veruka, he opened up some other hotspots including NA and The Plumm, did some acting, was a movie producer of some sort, and was always cultivating friendships with sponsors and celebrities.

All of this came at the cost of being a fairly sloppy person (at least, I would call it a cost; Noel didn’t seem to really notice). He was the type to show up at nightclubs in a grubby t-shirt, old track pants, and Timberlands—essentially, his pajamas. Always on the frumpy and unkempt side, it seemed like the busier he got, the less time he put into things like getting dressed, combing his hair, and shaving, let alone exercising or developing a personal style.

In retrospect, I think Noel might have had ADD. Nobody really knew anything about that back then, and I’m no expert, but he was very easily distracted, I couldn’t hold a conversation with him on one topic. He jumped from idea to idea every minute. This made it hard to converse and even harder to do business, but he still managed to accomplish a lot with his career.

One area where he was seemingly able to maintain a laser focus was money. He was one of the cheapest guys I’ve ever known. Later on at JoonBug, we decided it wasn’t feasible to keep doing weekly parties at venues. So, we moved to an ad-based business model, allowing promoters and club owners to post their events on our site. We would digitally promote these events, emailing them to our newsletter subscribers, charging different rates depending on the size and positioning of the ad. We also offered email blasts just to promote specific events. (These were about five thousand a pop, so not too many clubs would do them unless it was for a really special occasion).

Noel kept working with us after the switch, but it was an ongoing hassle that I came to dread. Inevitably, week after week, he would call me to haggle over the price of his ads, negotiating tirelessly, even to save just twenty bucks. He was a regular customer, and it went on like that literally for years!

Bill Spector

Derek wasn’t the only hip hop promoter in town. Another unlikely hero of that scene in the ‘90s was Bill Spector, a religious Jewish kid who had grown up on the Lower East Side.

Chubby, carefree, and whip-smart, Bill has a great sense of humor and a lot of charm. He could make anyone his friend in no time flat, thanks to his fun-loving personality. In the ‘80s, he was a big part of the nightclub scene, doing parties with Noel Ashman and DJ Mark Ronson (before Ronson became the Grammy-award-winning producer he is today). Bill often put on events at hot spots like El Flamingo and China Club and became famous in the industry.

With the ‘90s, big changes were coming, and Bill knew he had to make changes as well to stay relevant. He transitioned to the hip hop niche, incorporating hip hop music, fashion, and celebrities into his already-impressive promotions game. It worked perfectly. Interestingly, Bill not only attracted a huge new following of hip hop enthusiasts but also retained many of his other patrons, essentially building a new, eclectic, but mainly hip hop-focused niche of his own. People flocked to his events, lapping up the trendy new hip hop aesthetic and coming back for more. The parties kept going, the cash kept flowing, and Bill kept crafting amazing experiences for the crowds that loved him.

Mark Baker

Mark Baker’s colorful life history includes joining the circus, becoming a professional skateboarder, pivoting to nightlife in NYC, and moving to Bali. In the 90’s, he was a power promoter, most famous for his nightclub Lotus and nightclub/bar Double Seven, which was one of the first to open up in the Meatpacking District. He had an endless roster of A-list, celebrity friends, which served him well during his years in the scene.

Eventually, though, even this legendary “King of Nightlife” mostly gave up that career, becoming an expat in Bali and opening up a juice store called The Raw. I say “mostly,” because although he seems to be living a simple bohemian life on the beach, he still technically runs promotions for a mega-club there called Omnia Bali. I don’t think you ever get it out of your blood when you’ve been in the business that long.

Joey Morrissey

When Ariana and I were running JoonBug, Joey Morrissey was already a legendary bridge-and-tunnel promoter, bringing in floods of patrons from the outer boroughs into the city's premier hotspots. He and his business partner, Artie Arboleda, were party gods to all the New York Italian goombahs and guidos. Artie even looked like one of those muscle-headed guys from MTV’s Jersey Shore before that was a thing, while Joey was tall, skinny, and let’s say not the most aesthetically pleasing.

But what Joey lacked in looks, he made up for in business smarts and the resulting fortune he made in the industry. He was known for driving the masses to the events he promoted, and I learned a lot from watching his marketing techniques.

Over the years, Joey and Artie collected thousands of signup sheets from girls going around their parties and clubs, getting phone numbers, addresses, and names from the patrons. To put that data to use, they employed droves of cold-callers to laboriously go through those numbers and call all of them in the few days before their next party. In that way, they were hitting up thousands (if not tens of thousands) of people with phone invites.

They also mailed and handed out masses of postcard invitations, which were sleek, alluring, and well-designed, usually featuring scantily clad women and the names of all of the promoters and DJs.

Investing heavily into this kind of outreach made Joey and Artie famous in the industry and highly successful. They were the ultimate analog version of JoonBug, and much of JoonBug’s success was simply from digitizing and expanding on the processes they used to reach and motivate their subscribers!

(Not Much) More Than a Pretty Face

Opposite the less-than-attractive players in the nightlife industry, there were others for whom having a pretty face was a major part of their game. These guys were super good-looking, but unfortunately, they were often cocky jerks, and their claim to fame was simply that they ran with models or actors.

Clubs would pay these promoters massive amounts of money to show up with an armload of very good-looking girls, occasionally including a celebrity or two, and seat them all at a prominent table to be seen by everyone else. This signaled to the other patrons in the club that this was a premier hotspot.

Back then, this type of promoter included Brandon Marcel, a model for brands like Abercrombie and Fitch, who started modeling right out of high school and then moved into promoting. Another model-turned-promoter was Matt Assante who did a lot of work at Marquee with a fellow-promoter named Dustin Terry. The two of them were very popular and had a reputation for being businesslike and treating the models they worked with very well.

Sometimes, club owners would make one of these guys “The Face” of the club, giving them a small percentage of ownership. It was a very clever move, because it ensured that these promoters would give the venue 100 percent of their time and energy, in exchange for about a one percent stake.

The promoter chosen to be “The Face” of a club was usually thrilled. It was a massive ego-boost to go from being a promoter to part owner. They would go around feeling like a million bucks, bragging that they owned this or that club, and spending all their time building it up.

Karim Amatuallah stands out in my memory as “The Face” of Halo in the West Village. He was the consummate pretty-face promoter, constantly quoted and pictured in gossip magazines as Halo’s owner. He brought celebrities like Prince as well as a nonstop round of models to the venue, which did a lot to make it a successful NYC nightclub.

But the real owner of Halo (and of Duplex, the most successful gay bar in the West Village) was Rick Panson. He wasn’t heavily into the nightclub scene at all, just a family man who happened to own some really good real estate!

Mark Birnbaum

Mark Birnbaum was a guy I had known from high school through Craig Koenig, who was his best friend in those days. I remember that he was always well-liked and popular, and because he’s super good-looking, his luck with women was great. He was always dating the hottest girl in town.

That being the case, it wasn’t surprising that he was able to segue into becoming “The Face” of two popular nightclubs: Lobby, in midtown, and Aer, in the Meatpacking District. Lobby became a very popular spot for Long Islanders, while Aer was one of the original Meatpacking super-hotspots.

But unlike a lot of other “faces,” Mark didn’t stay just a one-percent “owner” in charge of bringing models to his venues. Instead, as he got propelled into the limelight, he used his position to join forces with Eugene Remm and start the mega-popular nightclub TenJune (the name was inspired by the fact that they shared the same birthday, June tenth). It was a massive success and took them both to a whole new level of fame and prestige in the business world. But although they started TenJune, they were still not technically the real owners; it was owned by The One Group, who owned the restaurant STK located right above TenJune. Things came full circle when Mark and Eugene started Catch Hospitality, a hugely successful business both in the U.S. and abroad.

Some Unforgettable NYC Clubs, Bars and Venues

Cain

After Pangaea had been closed for several years, Jamie Mulholland opened Cain as the first nightclub on 27th Street in West Chelsea. Like the Meatpacking District, that area was a bizarre choice for a nightclub, at least on the face of it. Dangerous, desolate, and depressing, it was the type of neighborhood you would never go walking in during the day, let alone at night.

But Cain would become one of the city’s most successful nightclubs ever, paving the way not only for Mullholland’s continuing career, but for the eventual “hypergentrification” of West Chelsea itself.

Jamie was and is a star of the nightlife world. He started from nothing, just waiting tables, but relentlessly moved upward—catering, bartending, managing, and finally opening and owning his own venues. Cain was the first club he opened.

To transform the venue into a nightlife hotspot, Jamie employed the design skills of Rob McKinley, who was little known at the time, but is now a widely acclaimed interior designer. Together, they cooked up a look and feel that was immediately praised as chic, luxurious, and exotic, featuring elephant tusks and shirtless bongo players.

Sound familiar? You guessed it: the freshest new venue in NYC was essentially a rip-off of the old Pangaea formula—fantasy safari in the city. It worked like a charm. Need something about replication working – if it aint broke don’t fix it/ if the wheel runs successfully you don’t need to reinvent it type thing.

The Pangaea-like atmosphere, combined with the name’s insinuation of drug culture (many assumed it was a reference to cocaine) was all it took to transform a cramped old taxi garage in a bad neighborhood into a model-magnet nightlife hotspot.

GoldBar

After the wild success of Cain, Jamie opened GoldBar, again working with Rob McKinley as the designer. It was one of the smallest spaces around, holding maybe fifty people at a time, with only a handful of tables seating five patrons each.
This time, Jamie set his sights on a place that rubbed elbows with Chinatown and had never been home to anything like a nightclub before - no one had ever thought to build one there! The location was Broome Street in Little Italy; the building, small and decrepit. There was nothing but an empty parking lot nearby. But it quickly became one of the coolest spots in NYC, and the place to be after all the other clubs closed.

Rob and Jamie came up with arguably one of the cheesiest schemes ever to make GoldBar special. What they did was use cheap plastic skulls, painted gold, to line the walls. Then they spread around a goofy backstory about an Italian count who was so obsessed with gold that he created this golden-skulled cavern, living there until his death.

To finish the look, they hung flea-market paintings as “portraits” of the count and his family, added some curtains and plenty of gold paint, and purposely graffitied the bathrooms instead of renovating them. Looking back, it was all so silly. But for patrons partying in the dark (most of them with vodka goggles on), it felt like a dream. There were gold flecks in the cocktails, beautiful models lounging and dancing, irresistible music, and not quite enough room on a breathless summer night. For years, GoldBar attracted the cream of the nightlife crowd, as if it was the Cartier of nightclubs.

B’Lo

“Russian Rob” Vinokur opened B’Lo, an unusual venue that became one of the hottest places in the city. It was exactly what the name implied: a nightclub most notable for its location in the basement of a pool hall in Chelsea.

The clever thing about B’Lo was the entrance. In order to get in, you had to head to this grimy pool hall and make it past the doorman’s strict scrutiny. If you got that far, you were led to an industrial elevator originally meant for transporting huge containers, waiting there in all your nightlife finery for more people to join you. Once the elevator was sufficiently full, it would slowly descend to the club.

The interior of B’Lo would at first appear startling. Everything swam in a hazy blue light. It was like an underwater cave, strewn with couches and flooded with the insistent rhythm of dance music.

It was hard to see well when the only lights in the place were blue, and that was a feature, not a bug. Because if you really looked, it was clear that the backlit screens hung against every wall were basically a cheap way to hide the crummy, industrial basement interior. And that collection of couches? Up close, they looked like they’d been bought at a discount furniture outlet’s going-out-of-business sale - after all the good stuff had been taken!

The point was, no one was paying enough attention to notice the quality of the furniture or the finish on the walls (except people like me, who had worked in the industry long enough and went to clubs often enough to pick up on things like that). Club patrons were looking for excitement, intrigue, and a taste of the exotic.

That’s what B’Lo delivered.