
Rock 'n' roll isn't dead. It is alive in the seedy underbelly of New York's sleaziest clubs, on display for those willing to look for it. Last night, I set foot into Lit (again, one of my least favorite venues in this entire city), eager for another dose of trashy, violent rock 'n' roll, and that's exactly what I received, with interest. First on the slab were The Hunt (pictured), New York's premier post-punk patrons. Soaked in copious amounts of both whiskey and gin, the band tore through a short, yet sweet set [...]