A new mix from resident alien, multi-dimensional citizen, and Doom Dab label co-founder AHARAW, who you can catch performing a live set tonight at our NYC issue 15 launch party. Our New York correspondent Whitney Mallett wrote an accompanying interplanetary party report on the same wavelength. Catch them both Thursday at the other-worldly La Caverna (122 Rivington) 10 p.m. til late (~ no list ~ no cover ~ unlike the extraterrestrial affair documented below)
“I heard it’s, like, invite only,” she said, snapping her bubblegum and sucking on her vape at the same time. She smelled like grape chemicals and her hair was greasy but in a good way. “It’s worth trying to get in. It’s, like, really out there.” Out where? I wanted to say, but she’d already slipped into a pile of limbs accented by nu-metal accessories posing for a group selfie in the bathroom mirror. My phone vibrated. @neptunefairyangel liked your photo. @onapinkplanet DM’d “what times your set gorl??”
I walked back to the dance floor. Mostly people had just arrived, sipping on drinks, bopping to the beat, and gossiping in cliques. oh so you’re on the cusp what’s your moon sign — she’s being extra extra well she is extraterrestrial — alien kush remember like indica in da couch. Only one queen was really dancing. The crowd was just starting to swell. I didn’t want to play and then have everyone show up right after. If I was lucky, in thirty minutes, it’d be just the time mob was peaking. And I know if they came by then, it’d be an unofficial audition. There was always someone who was on the list for the after party but who wasn’t coming anymore. I could be that person. Maybe. If they got here soon. And saw my set. And thought I was everything.
I felt like I shouldn’t care that much but I heard these after parties were literally out of this world. My roommate told me that last week a chihuahua was hosting and there was a kombucha swimming pool and Paris Hilton shapeshifted into a Jigglypuff and a hologram of Macy Gray spilled quinoa vodka on a hologram of Kourtney Kardashian who was snuggling with Elizabeth Warren’s sister and seventeen different girls were wearing a scarf as a hat and there were free chicken-salad sandwiches and the combination of the mayonnaise and the warp speed made my roommate a bit nauseous and then everyone got arrested.
When I had to go on, I hadn’t even seen my roommate yet and I thought she was for sure coming. Maybe it was too early to expect anyone to really be here. But then. There they were. They’d arrived. They’d only missed the first few minutes. I whispered to myself three times: I’m going to charm them with my music. I’m going to charm them with my music. I’m going to charm them with my music. The next thing I remember, we were bundling in an UberXtraStellar and one of their crew told me it was no problem to just say I was Nichelle Nichols when we were walking in. We got out at the party and were ushered ahead of all the girls in bandaid dresses standing in line. Guest list? Nichelle. Right this way.
Everything was different here. It was like the smell of a rich hotel but on the fourth dimension. I was comfortable. Maybe too comfortable. My grandma used to always say, “your bowels know when you’re home.” But this feeling wasn’t quite that. I think it was my root chakra. I was becoming one with the universe. I felt like I had a little tail coming out of my anus. I was tapping into the signal from the operator’s switchboard. Om shanti. Mantra chanting may connect you. Psychic symbols for 24/7 support. Reptilian onboarding and data migration complimentary. Aliens mother mantra for instant money. Our team is here to help. Party-on-wayne.gif in perpetual motion for infinity. They say your tail never stops growing. Finally, I understood.
© 2018 The Editorial Magazine