A Review of 80's Night from the Viewpoint of an Unidentified Male Bystander

With the advent of the undergraduate academic year in hot pursuit, thousands flocked to the French Quarter bordelo-cum-disco One Eyed Jack's to commune in celebration of the 199th decade Ano Domine. While I was once a vital young scenester in Manchester during the post-punk revolution, Debbie Harry's paramour, and the uncredited choreographer of Madonna's Like a Prayer video, I am now older than the Stones and can only watch from a hidden crawlspace that I tunneled next to the DJ booth, From this viewpoint, I give you my unadulterated opinions.

The Scene (7/10): One Eyed Jack's is not shaped like an ideal dance club, but the variations in elevation give you the impression that you are descending into a pit of sin when they you the main hall; inversely, the act of exiting blesses you with redemption. It is as though you are tasting freedom, but you still feel inexorably drawn back into the inferno. The wallpaper is also top notch.

The Music (6/10): There isn't much you can say about the music; either it was released during the 80's or it wasn't. Some of it wasn't, leading to much confusion. High points: Bloodletting, Beat It, Blue Monday, The Promise, and that "workin' as a waitress in a cocktail bar" song. Low Points: Groove Is In the Heart, Push It, Wild Thing.

The Ladies (8/10): Things are looking up for New Orleans if the young ladies in town continue to dress in classic period costumes such as those displayed last night. Even those who were not dressed in the garb of the era which we call the Eighties, were tastefully clothed and apologetic, as if to say, "I know I look fucking ridiculous in this futuristic get-up, but I can still move freely and would like to dance." The go-go dancers on staff dropped the ball a little bit; sexy as they may be, I don't feel they properly conveyed the excess and hedonism of the years 1980 through 1989. Only the young apprentice dancer Kamber (Camber? Cambre? Chanukah?) seemed to have made a significant effort with the "my roommate's pet wolverine got into my closet" look, complete with tousled hair and pleather bondage boots sporting treacherous 6-inch heels. Dancer Veronica was in high spirits and was throwing out her trademark sidelong glances with reckless abandon. Her enigmatic costume included a micro-mini skirt emblazoned with a boat anchor intertwined with what appeared to be a venomous snake, implying that there could be snakes on a boat. Props also to the tall auburn haired temptress who executed the most disaffected, yet hypnotizing safety dance these eyes have ever seen.

The Dudes (3/10): Frankly, I feel sorry for the ladies who lean hetero in this post-Katrina wonderland. Chivalry may be dead, but personal hygeine, dancing ability, and style still go a long way. From my hidden lookout turret I gasped time and again after each flagrant faux-pas was committed. Let's start with the dancing: pelvic thrusting, attempted grinding (not even invented yet), and every locomotive no-no banned from the decade after the 70's (but before the 90's).

If there was one man who stood out from the crowd like a shiny angel amongst demons, it would be the tall, statuesque man dressed in the classic punk/ladies man look. With the raw intensity and swagger of Billy Idol, the alien appearance of Bowie, and the unbridled enthusiasm of George Michael, this giant among midgets made me avert my eyes in reverence with a dancing vocabulary as deep as he was tall. Whenever this man moved, the crowd moved with him; indeed, if this scene was the symphony, he was the conductor. I also noticed that he came fashionably late, left fashionably early, and drank and smoked fashionably little. Not really in the spirit of the 80's, but definitely in the spirit of good taste. What a guy!

Overall (7.5/10): What else can I say, another night of living fast, going over the top, and dancing like there is no tomorrow, at least not until 4am-ish when some of these people have to get some sleep because they have work tomorrow. The hotness of the ladies matched the hotness of the ambient temperature, burning away all of the other negative qualities of the night. See you next Thursday! Although you probably won't because my crawlspace is exceptionally well hidden.