Following the heartbreak of the Mercury Dime saga, craft cocktail maven Sasha Petraske is heading north. He plans to open a cocktail lounge at Lexington Avenue and 39th Street called Hi-Note (or The Hi-Note; he hasn't decided yet) featuring live jazz on weekdays. The plan was to open soon, but a kink in the financing has delayed the new joint.
"My financing disappeared," says Petraske. "Left the country, actually."
He's actively searching for investors, and hopes to be able to open Hi-Note within the next two months. The atmosphere of the place will be similar to that of Little Branch, he says, which has a piano, whose ivories get tickled for tipplers' enjoyment. The new place will have more of a late-1950s aesthetic.
"I don't want to say Mad Men," Petraske notes. "But, well, that kind of thing."
A Midtown clientele may sound like a leap for Petraske, but he asserts that Milk & Honey regulars travel in from uptown and beyond. His desire to open a jazz joint stems from a love of the genre and a fascination with the 1920s and '30s, which actually piqued his interest in cocktails to begin with. He admits to a nostalgia for a socialist past he was too young to have experienced himself, one in which "people were naive enough to see the world in black and white."
So, how does he see the world these days?
"After Mercury Dime, I'm a little traumatized about downtown," Petraske admits. (His East Village coffee shop was never able to nab a liquor license, which eventually doomed it.) "I grew up downtown, so I'm a little disappointed. But there's some interesting stuff north of 14th Street."
Perhaps Hi-Note will add to the interesting. If only he can secure some cash to back it.
Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you to defy it Lights flicker from the opposite loft In this room the heat pipes just cough The country music station plays soft But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off
Just Louise and her lover so entwined And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chain And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the "D" train We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight Ask himself if it's him or them that's really insane Louise, she's all right, she's just near She's delicate and seems like the mirror But she just makes it all too concise and too clear That Johanna's not here
The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place
Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously And when bringing her name up He speaks of a farewell kiss to me He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall
Oh, how can I explain? It's so hard to get on And these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn
Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues You can tell by the way she smiles See the primitive wallflower freeze When the jelly-faced women all sneeze Hear the one with the mustache say, "Jeeze I can't find my knees"
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel
The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him Sayin', "Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him" But like Louise always says "Ya can't look at much, can ya man?" As she, herself, prepares for him And Madonna, she still has not showed We see this empty cage now corrode Where her cape of the stage once had flowed The fiddler, he now steps to the road He writes ev'rything's been returned which was owed On the back of the fish truck that loads While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain
From wikipedia: Lennon told producer [George] Martin that he wanted to sound like a hundred chanting Tibetan monks, which left Martin the difficult task of trying to find the effect by using the basic equipment they had. Lennon's suggestion was that he be suspended from a rope and—after being given a good push—he would sing as he spun around the microphone. This idea was rejected by Martin, but when asked by Lennon about it, he would only reply with, "We're looking into it."
Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream, It is not dying, it is not dying
Lay down all thought, surrender to the void, Is it shining? Is it shining?
That you may see the meaning of within It is being, it is being
Love is all and love is everyone Is it knowing? Is it knowing?
That ignorance and hate may mourn the dead It is believing, it is believing
But listen to the colour of your dreams Is it not living, is it not living
Or play the game "Existence" to the end Of the beginning, of the beginning
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And here's a recording of Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison doing a cover of the song: