New Year’s Eve Has Its Hot Spots, Despite Chills

Man, the Republicans aren’t even in the White House yet, and it already feels like a cold day in hell. Wait . . . make that New Year’s Eve in Hollywood. When patrol cars outnumber revelers, it’s difficult to find that party spirit. That’s not to say we don’t need officers on the lookout for misbehaving novices, but the show of force on Sunday night was so heavy, it was creepy.

In the five teensy blocks it took me to get to my freeway on-ramp, I passed six patrol cars (not including one camped out at Taco Bell). All through Hollywood, the only traffic I encountered was on foot, as people schlepped to the nearest intersection rather than chance a jaywalking ticket. Put it this way: It was easier to find street parking on New Year’s Eve in Hollywood than it is on a random Wednesday in March, and I guarantee you, people are having more fun.

Good thing my friends are freaky, because not even all that macho muscle could keep them from getting down in nightclubs. And compared with last year, when nearly everybody stayed in, there were some bright spots. We kicked off our evening at Tempest in West Hollywood, where we caught the early set of the Mildred Snitzer Orchestra, a jazz band with Jeff Goldblum on piano. Last time I saw the actor was in ’96. He’d complained about being out of touch with the Hollywood club scene, so despite being seven months preggers, I escorted him to the Toledo Show at Union, where Goldblum began playing a regular residency (he’s at the Hollywood hot spot Las Palmas on Mondays).

After strategizing how to get to our next destination without driving any major boulevards, we left for the heart of Hollywood. We discovered we could cruise down Hollywood Boulevard, even right up Cahuenga Boulevard, where it was blocked off for Giant’s deejay extravaganza. Although the party--a benefit for the Hollywood Police Activities League(!)--looked like fun, with large screens spinning psychedelic imagery, the outdoor event also looked c-o-o-o-l-d, so we opted to warm up at the heart of rock ‘n’ roll’s hearth by catching Lo-Ball’s set at Goldfingers.

Those five girls are such uber-vixen rock stars! The club was packed, with newcomers and veteran scenesters alike cheering them on as they blasted into the real 21st century. We got to give New Year hugs to such year-round rocker fixtures as Dayle Gloria, Coyote Shivers, Eden Knievel, Motochrist’s Ricky Vodka (who even wore a suit!) and Danny Nordahl, before ditching the frolic for the Hollywood Athletic Club’s grand-slam mamma-jamma. The club featured Club Make-Up’s house band, the Gutter Gangsters, and all the promoters behind Cherry, Bang!, Coven 13, Shout!, Beat It, Sin-A-Matic and of course, Club Make-Up. Holy cow.

The Hollywood Athletic Club, where this huge freaky festivus was held, was an ideal spot for the affair. The party flowed from room to room, and there was always something or someone interesting to look at (including Dee Dee Ramone!). Whether it was the die-hard mod squad dancing to ‘60s soul in one room, or the hard-core fetish folks sweating to Sin-A-Matic oldies in another, the mood was positive and upbeat.

Nothing, however, could top the midnight showdown by the Gutter Gangsters. I’m beginning to think it’s probably the best band in L.A. right now, and not just because of the rotating roster of drag queen lead singers, but also the level of talent backing them up. As I looked around at all the mainstream revelers side by side with all the crazycool Hollywood kids, each rocking out to queens singing Queen, I kept hearing Goatsnake’s mantra in my head: “A Republican presidency means times get hard for people, but music gets good.”