Debriefer: FourFour's Rich Juzwiak
If you aren't reading FourFour, you're missing out on the magic that is Rich Juzwiak's world. His Mogwai-inspired cat Winston, Tyra Banks, and obscure but perfect pop-culture references dwell hand in hand with knitted-together montages, mix tapes, and photoshopped British worms. In addition to his home base, Rich also does the deeds on VH1's Celebreality.
We're going to imprison you in the city of your choice for the rest of your natural life. You can do anything you want there, but you must stay in that city forever. Where would you choose?
Where I am! New York.
Why would you live in this city forever and not somewhere else?
Access. As a kid, I didn't carry one Encyclopedia Brown or Ramona or Judy Blume book around with me -- I carried entire sets. I'm absolutely obsessed with having a wide range of options and possibility. And New York is in the business of possibility.
In what part of the city would you reside?
Probably the East Village. I went to NYU, and so the essence of New York to me has always resided there. (It's certainly not Times Square, where I work. Seriously, I would never come to Times Square if I didn't have to every fucking day of my life.) I love the East Village. I love the restaurants, the people ... just the look of it has a homeiness that I never expected to find in a big city. I live in Williamsburg now (not in the hipster heart or anything), and I love it almost as much. It's so wonderful to be able to live in a virtually sleepy neighborhood and be able to hop on the train and in 10 minutes be in Union Square.
Where and what would you eat?
I think Grand Sichuan on St. Marks is amazing -- it's so hard to find Chinese food in New York that isn't just nasty fast food (tip: if a place has faded pictures of dishes above the register AVOID THAT PLACE). But to find a Chinese place that's not only a real restaurant, but a reasonably priced one could only be more unbelievable if they offered General Tso's unicorn on the menu. My favorite dishes there are the shrimp gyoza, the ma po tofu (no pork, thanks, as I don't eat swine and, besides, pork in a tofu dish makes NO FUCKING SENSE), and the bean curd little hot wok. The paneer tikka masala at Brick Lane Curry is among the best I've ever had. Indian food to me is like Asian guys -- not all that's offered is suited to my taste, but when it's at its best, it's better than everything else in the world. My favorite dish is actually mahkni paneer, but it's so fucking hard to find that I always settle for paneer tikka masala. If anyone can recommend a place that offers good mahkni paneer with the proper tomato-cream ratio, I'll buy you dinner (we're eating Indian: duh). San Loco is the best bastardized Mexican fast food I've ever had in my life. My eyes start to tear when I think about their rice nachos with Serious Sauce -- partly, because they're just soooo good that the very thought of them brings me joy, and partly because they're so damn spicy. Oh, and even though it's not in the E.V., I gotta give it up for Sripraphai in Woodside, Queens. It ruined Thai food for me -- everything else just pales in comparison, so I can't eat it (an exception is Zadd, which is down the street from Sri -- I checked it out this weekend and it's maybe just as tasty). My favorite dishes are the green papaya salad (no dried shrimp, thanks!) and the Panang curry.
What would you do for fun?
Well, like I said, New York to me is all about access, and I'm talking about material shit, so shop and eat I guess!
Where would you go for a night on the town?
I don't go to big clubs, unless someone I really love is spinning. So just bars, whatever. East Village stuff. I'm not a huge drinker either, so all-night benders aren't my thing. Maybe that makes me sound boring, but what are you expecting from a blogger? As far as specific places, Phoenix is rarely obnoxious. I kinda wish the scenery was a little more stimulating: the regular-guy clientele that they cater to is so much hotter in theory than in practice. Eastern Bloc is usually obnoxious, but that doesn't mean I don't go. And a certain media titan who may or may not own this very blog has recently opened my eyes to the tacky, skanky charms of Urge. In a scene like that, you get a contact rash, but even so: it's my happening and it freaks me out. If I reveal every single place I ever go, I'll feel so naked. So, in addition to the dozen or so places that I've already named, I'll say the sauna of the Union Square New York Sports Club. It's not that I engage in public sex, but I find it strangely comforting that so many dudes do.
What kinds of shops are worth going to?
I love Kim's on St. Marks, because I'm obsessed with buying DVDs early and they constantly violate street dates. That is so hot. Toy Tokyo is fun for its never-ending stream of Gremlins and Miyazaki-related merchandise. I gots me a plush cat bus from My Neighbor Totoro! For clothes, I like Blades. Atrium is cool, as long as the fucking salespeople stay out of my life. They are so aggressively commission-hungry, it's like Merry-Go-Round all over again. Bloomingdales and Macy's are old standbys. For sneakers, I most like Training Camp on Bryant Park, although there are places on Fulton Street in Brooklyn that are great for Nikes. And fuck Whole Foods, I'm obsessed with the Fairway in Red Hook. Its greatness can be summed up in two words: olive bar.
And on the flip side: What city would you never, ever visit again, if you had a choice?
I don't hate any city that I've been to enough to vow to never visit again. Philly, which was my metropolitan area growing up in South Jersey, has a Napoleon complex, which is annoying. I'd never live there, that's for sure, but even that city is touched with nostalgia for me, so I can't hate.
Who do you think would win in a cagematch to the death: Céline or Beyoncé?
Beyoncé, for sure. I mean, you saw the force with which she patted her weave. Imagine what she could do with a hammer! I really think that if you cross her, you should be prepared for a Taz-like flailing of arms. She'll castrate you with her teeth as fast as she'll look at you. Céline, by and large, flails less, and thus is less opposing. I do think that she'd be a formidable opponent, however: you must never underestimate the power of THE CLAWWWWW!
It's obvious you love music -- what can't you stop listening to at the moment? What should we be listening to?
You should listen to whatever you want! But among the stuff I've been spinning regularly are: Miss Kittin's Batbox, Robert Owens' Night Time Stories (a vocal house album complete with crappy midtempo stuff in '08? It feels like 15 years ago, and that feels mighty good.), Todd Terje's Edits (I never thought it was possible to make Chic's "I Want Your Love" into a better song. Todd proved me wrong.), The-Dream's LoveHate (It kills me how slept on this is!) and diskJokke's Staying In (Best Norweigian disco EVER! Seriously -- mops the floor with Lindstrom and Prins Thomas for sheer danciness). Some singles I'm feeling include Rude 66's "The 1000 Year Storm," the Futurejak Vol. 1 12", Shock's "Angel Face," and Erykah Badu's "The Healer."
Why am I in love with your cat Winston?
Winston is magic. No really: that cat is 100 percent wish fulfillment for me. The '80s were a time stuffed with cuddly creatures, and I wanted every Muppet-esque thing that wiggled, danced, or Poppled its way into my line of vision. Winston is so weird-looking and weird, period, that he might as well have starred in a shitty '80s cartoon-cum-half-hour-commercial. Look, I've always wanted a Mogwai, and now I've pretty much got one. He's not a great companion like Gizmo (he doesn't play the keyboard or anything, the lazy piece of shit). He's definitely on the bobo Mogwai tip and I'm suuuure that he'd do everything he could to eat after midnight and then eat me. But I love him too much to care about the fact that to him, I'm pretty much just food waiting to fall to the floor.
There's this strange feeling when you read blogs on a daily basis and the writers appear in each other's blogs. Like watching a Krzysztof Kieslowski film, you and Slut Machine pop in and out of one another's blogs. From "NYE Part 2: Electric Boogaloo" on One D at a Time: "I grabbed my bag of weed, brought it over to Rich and told him to pack a bowl. I don't know if he did, because that's where memories stopped forming ..." Well, Rich, the world wants to know, did you pack it?
I'm not incriminating myself beyond stating that I'd do anything for my friends. Although, if you really want the answer, look no further: "How Many Times is Too Many to Take Plan B in a Month?"
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Debriefer is a weekly interview of random individuals about their favorite cities. If you'd like to be interviewed for Debriefer, let us know.
