Photo via sarahheiman's photostream

​For $2,500,000, you too can own the Greenpoint venue that was shut down over and over and over again by its neighbors, Eater reports. That number represents a $450,000 discount over the original asking price, includes "three bars, a dance floor, and four bathrooms," and a separate loft, which we're sure will be quite lovely after 4 am, when the music finally shuts down. Aggro-bouncers, overpriced vodka sodas, and endless glossy dance flyers not included, presumably. [Eater]

​The One Front restaurant in DUMBO will remain sans dance club, reports the Brooklyn Paper, after a community board voted to deny owner Marcelo Pevida a cabaret license last night. The reasoning?

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via oracle monkey's photostream

Studio B, the feckless Greenpoint club that infuriated its neighbors and, occasionally, its own patrons, officially closed its doors today, for arguably the third time in two years. The club said goodbye on its website, by way of plugging a typically schizophrenic final weekend of bookings: Chicago DJ duo Flosstradmus on Friday, the roller-disco/electro party Down and Derby on Satuday, and crustcore legends Tragedy, who helped bid farewell to the club last night in a blaze of body odor and waving fists. Makers of glossy dance flyers and fans of bouncer-on-band/fan-violence will presumably greet the end of Studio with great sadness; everyone else, probably a bit less so. Anybody looking to host a 2 Live Crew show?

Alan Braxe
Studio B
Saturday, March 7

During my college years my fellow scholars invented something called the "Time-Change Riot." On the night of the spring-forward daylight-saving shift, and thus apparently robbed of a whole hour of bar time, the spurned drinkers, ejected into the streets, elected to gather in large groups on the sidewalk, shout vile oaths at no one in particular, light a few trash cans on fire, and... well, that was it. It was dumb. (Historical footnote: At the exact moment this was occurring, I was on the air at our college radio station, doing, like, Afghan Whigs rock blocks or something. There is no correlation.) As a result of this, I am extremely sensitive to daylight saving's effects on nightlife, and thus the metaphysical oddity of French electronic-music purveyor Alan Braxe beginning his set at around 2 a.m., and then, bam, suddenly it's fuckin' 4:15. I am not ordinarily this kind of guy.

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photo borrowed from the generous dudes at Stereogum

Indie-Rock Karaoke
Featuring Ted Leo & the Pharmacists
Studio B

After almost three hours of non-stop sing-alongs last night, Studio B was a third full and Andrew W.K. was trading Ultimate Warrior impressions with a fat guy in an ironic (?) grandma sweater while Ted Leo and the Pharmacists played Amerie's "One Thing." Imagine that dream you had after plugging away at "Black Magic Woman" on Guitar Hero for six hours before bed--except now it's weirder and Andrew W.K.'s there. The marathon charity show/New York ad-rate booster made several things clear: 1) Ted Leo is the most benevolent man alive, 2) Andrew W.K. should replace Randy Jackson as American Idol's other judge, and 3) three hours of karaoke is too much karaoke (unless you're one-time America's Next Top Model good girl Shandi Sullivan, who did a decent anorexic-chic version of "Just Like Heaven" early on and could be seen clapping her hands in the pseudo-VIP until the very end).

Ted Leo is something of a pop savant. In 2003, I saw him blitz through a solo electric version of the Replacements' "Can't Hardly Wait" in Chicago because he "heard it on the juke box a few minutes ago." Then, at the Music Hall last year, he pulled "Rave On" out of his hat after a blottoed stage crasher dropped his paperback Buddy Holly biography in the midst of a striptease. So good for New York for picking the right guy to play back-up for this year's Williamsburg Idol. (He also played an hour-long set of Ted Leo songs before the karaoke expo, but nobody really cared.) The song list--from Joy Division to Prince to Kelly Clarkson--was crowd pleasing, and smart. Ted and his three Pharmacists probably could've just shown up and gotten away with an ok version of "Reelin' in the Years," but they nailed it along with pretty much everything else.

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They didn't bother to change the flyer, but Spank Rock has a mysterious "ailment" that's prevented him from performing. For hissake, hope it's not syphilis.

However cynical, promoters sure know that packaging artists who've sung about pussy a bunch really packs 'em in. It's OK: hometown polyglots Brazilian Girls, via lead singer Sabina Sciubba's feral charm, have turned out many a shy cosmopolitan. B-more native and Philly-raised MC Spank Rock has turned out just as many a musical style in his career-long fuckfest of electro, Miami bass, and Baltimore club. [Editor's Note: Spank Rock had to cancel due to "a serious sudden ailment"—take one pussy singer off this list.] The Rub DJs and Roxy Cottontail will be keeping the dance floor uncomfortably moist. Your face is melting; it's untoward. — PETE L'OFFICIAL.

BRAZILIAN GIRLS+THE RUB+ROXY COTTONTAIL, Studio B, 259 Banker St., Brooklyn, NY 11211, Brooklyn.

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Crashing Studio B's Garden Party by Annie Fischer

UPDATED, 5/5
Nate "Igor" Smith went and took photos for your ogling pleasure.