New Yorkers are accustomed to sharing things; that’s the bargain of the city—the source of its energy and so many of its frustrations. We share our ceilings and walls, our commutes and our living rooms, the meals we eat and the relatively modest patches of green that constitute our nature.
Now, because of huge rent hikes throughout the city, our businesses might need to start sharing, too. New Yorkers have long mourned the disappearance of mom-and-pops, the stores and restaurants, dive bars and old haunts that gave the streets their chaotic splendor.
With the wrecking ball looming just a month down the line, crusty East Village liquor closet Mars Bar decided to throw in the towel for good after the Health Department shut the place for violations. There was a vigil, people are sad—and rightfully so, as there just aren’t enough places in New York with the stink and stories of Mars Bar.
A few weeks ago, The Observer spent a hell of a long time in Mars Bar, the storied punk-themed dive on Second Avenue, expecting it to close any day. Then, we got word of a grace period that could last up to six weeks. They wouldn’t go out without a fight. Old habits die Read More
Lower East Side
Beloved grungy downtown bars are dropping like flies. Last week saw the news that Mars Bar, Max Fish, and Pink Pony would all close within the next two months. If your past life was that of the bassist in a nineties hardcore band that gigged at Luna Lounge, a February homecoming may Read More
the wrecking ball
Mars Bar is a cramped, derelict bar in the East Village frequented mostly by the kind of crusty folk who wish the block were still crawling with addicts and punks. And the people adequately faking it, of course. Anyway, it’s closing for two years, and we explained why this is a bad thing for Read More
Mars Bar is a loud, dirty, graffitti-washed crumbling cement block of a spot where denizens guzzle whiskey, packed in like sardines.
It’s also is a bit of a sore thumb on Second Avenue. Mars Bar is garish and gross; it’s on an street that’s so clean you could have a blanket-less picnic with your tofu Read More
The Post dropped by Moby’s apartment recently, where he showed the tab around his 1,200-square-foot loft in a former Civil War prison. The eletronica king moved in back in 1996, according to city records, when the area was just a no-man’s-land north of Little Italy, yet to be rebranded by bohos and brokers as Read More