Big Scot has been keeping the riff raff out of our bars and clubs for the last 20 years [applause]. He is absolutely an East Village legend, and absolutely not to be fucked with. He’s also a gentle giant, a writer, and an artist and musician in the tradition of what made the East Village hot in the first place. He may even be a murderer, but probably not. His storytelling can best be described as stream-of-consciousness. At any rate, he’s been around, seen a lot, done more, and luckily is a great friend of EVB because he’s naming names.

Weston: Pot, Ketel One - ready to go?

Big Scot: Yeah.

How about a background track for the readers. Name your tune.

Slayer, “Seasons in the Abyss”.

I think I’ve seen you maybe once without a metal t-shirt. What’s the Holy Trinity of metal?

Blood, sweat, and love.

I meant the bands.

The best live, Slayer. Black Label Society (BLS), and Queens of the Stone Age.
[since publishing this article Scot has sobered up and wants to change his original answer to Slayer, Black Sabbath and Judas Priest. What the hell was he thinking with Queens of the Stone Age?]

Surprised about that last one, but those are the three must-haves for EV boys that don’t know anything about metal?

Yeah.

Lets start with your public door-whore persona.

I am not a whore [laughs].

What doors have you whored before your current gig at Eastern Bloc, in the East Village (of course)?

What doors have I not whored should be your question. OK here we go. Limelight, Pyramid…

Limelight during the Michael Alig days?

This was before Michael Alig, but I used to sneak him in when he was, um, 19. I HELPED PROMOTE A MURDERER!

Did you help with the murder?

[pause]

OK, next question…

[laughs] No, I didn’t help with the murder, but I did know Angel.

Back to the doors.

Limelight, Pyramid, Boy Bar, The World, Mars, Sound Factory, Sound Factory Bar, Twilo, Barracuda [vomit noises, more vomit noises], The Cock.

I heard [redacted] waters down their drinks.

Yes, I believe they do. The first time I had a drink in there I was like this motherfucking Jack is fucking watered down you motherfucking bitch. I can’t stand those fucking assholes. One of them wanted to look at my paintings and I was like, “I would never sell you a painting, bitch. Even if you wanted the million dollar one” [laughs]. Can I finish my doors? OK, The Cock, The Park and now Eastern Bloc.

Speaking of Eastern Bloc, I’ve seen you turn away legions of hot boys. What the hell?

They didn’t have ID.

And? I have seen fake IDs handed to you. Not good enough?

[laughs] No.

Give us some dirt on the Eastern Bloc staff - but be nice it’s our favorite bar.

I don’t really have any dirt on any of them. They’re all friends of mine, we all get along and they’re great to work for. And all those clubs I listed - this is the first time I haven’t worked for a cokehead owner. The first one! I was like, wow, after 20 years of doing this, this is the first place with no cokehead owners.

We’re going to get sued.

No, I’m telling you the truth. They’re nice guys at Eastern Bloc and I really like everyone there. It’s small and it’s - oh we had one employee that was kind of funny - he used to do happy hour and used to play Tori Amos. You’d walk in and think “lets’s do some heroin and slit our wrists”. But he’s gone now.

Who was the last guy you threw out at Eastern Bloc?

Oh that was this guy last Friday. They called me in and the dancer comes over, “I need help, I need help, there are people on the stripper pole!” So I go over and I tell this one chick to get down, she gets down, and then there’s this big fucking guy, and he was screaming “HALLELUJAH JESUS! JESUS! AMERICA! AMERICA!”, and I said dude, you can’t be touching the pole while the go-go boy is trying to dance, so he looks at me, gives me this dirty look, and he takes his hand off the pole, and I go back to the door, and turn around, and his hand is back on the fucking pole, and I’m like dude, you can’t put your fucking hand on the pole, and he says “but I have to! If I don’t I’ll fall over!”, and I said I think its time for you to go and he gives me this look and says “try to throw me out”, and tries to stare me down, and he was a big fucker, and I was like ok bitch are you ready to go - I’m not in the mood, but then I suggested “you know, you’re fucked up, you need to get some air, lets go outside”. So we go outside and he’s like “thank you, I love you! Thank you for being so understanding” and waddled down the street home.

So when we hang out at the door with you, I love watching all the straight boys walk by all sly to check the place out, and then circle back and come in… or am I imagining things?

No, you’re not. Somehow my body odor attracts them. If you’re good looking, mental, and confused about your sexuality, then you’re in love with me. And I’m in love with you.

Um…

They come to ME! you’ve seen them, right?

I’ve seen it, I’ve seen it. They probably think you’re the guy from Harry Potter.

HAHAHA! Hagrid?

Yeah, exactly! What’s it like working with Daniel Radcliffe anyway?

Who’s Daniel Radcliffe?

Um… so the East Village has changed a lot over the last twenty years. What was it like when you first started doing doors in the neighborhood?

When I used to work at Pyramid on Avenue A, I had a big red bong underneath my chair, and when my friends showed up we’d take bong hits. That’s how cool it was back in the day. People would bring me beer… people were afraid… Avenue A was “alright”, Avenue B was “Beware”, Avenue C was “crazy” and Avenue D was “dead”. Now you walk down Avenue B and there are people with baby strollers. I miss when it was bombed-out buildings and junkies - it was like zombie land. I lived on 8th Street between B and C at one point - because I was between beware and craziness.

What’s the craziest shit you’ve seen in the last 20 years. I want names.

Ok this one will be gossipy. One time, this gossip columnist from [redacted] - I was working at The World, and they had this one section in the middle of the place called the “It Club”, and the staff would always go in there because we knew the beer cases were open and we could go in there and get beer, so my buddy and I were in there drinking a beer, and we see [redacted] over in the corner with some young guy with his pants down, and he was trying to get the guy hard but he couldn’t get hard because he was so fucked up, but he’s still sucking on his dick [sucking sounds], so we crouched down and he hears us giggling, so he stops and looks around - and then [sucking sounds].

I don’t think we should print that.

You don’t have to say who it is, just say “gossip columnist”.

I have funny fuck story. This guy shows up at Boy Bar, and he’s like “can I come in?”, and the other doorman told him “If you show him your ass. He likes ass”. So this kid shows me his ass and I was “ok dude come in”, and then I fucked him in the bathroom. So then I’m leaving Boy Bar to get him to Third Avenue, and we get into a cab with the other doorman, and we’re going to this after hours club and my friend says “what happened to the other guy?” and I’m like “this isn’t the same fucking guy?”, and he’s like “no”. [laughs]. That was bad of me.

So we interviewed Bruce LaBruce a few weeks back and he had nothing good to say about the New York gay scene. Since you actually live here and he doesn’t…

Tell him to stay in LA.

I think he’s in Berlin now… what’s your impression of what’s going on here now, and what’s your favorite memory?

Jesus - my favorite memory… fucking that boy in the bathroom and ending up with another one to fuck later… um… I miss the creativity. People used to get excited - you’d go to Pyramid and see a show. People now could care less about seeing live shows. They all want to hear what they already hear on the radio. Their Britney and their Beyoncé and their piss off and crap. They can’t expand their minds to see anything different. The East Village used to be all about creativity. I mean there was insane performance art - everywhere. It would only last for fifteen minutes, and then back to the music, but those days are so over. Now it’s glass towers, and banks, and bourgeois pigs, and people who want to go to bars and order bottle service, and pay $300 for a bottle of… what are we drinking… [laughs]… oh yeah, Ketel One… [laughs]… and it just bores me. People used to be creative in the way they would dress. You knew they were from the East Village by the way they would dress.

I guess I’m a little bored with it. I’m a little embarrassed by it. It needs to go back to being more creative and faggots shouldn’t be afraid to go see some bands every now and then, you know? It’s OK not to go to the bars. Go to the faggot bars later but go see some bands (like mine), or go do something different, help support artists. It’s OK. Especially in the East Village. You won’t get beat up. Well, you might. You might at a bar too.

So let’s skip to…

Let’s concentrate.

Lets skip to Amsterdam. Your boyfriend Jozua lives in Amsterdam…

NO, HE DOES NOT LIVE IN AMSTERDAM. HE LIVES IN ARNHEM. All you fucking Americans… you mention the Netherlands… “Amsterdam, Amsterdam”… Amsterdam is not the Netherlands. He lives in Arnhem, which is an hour outside of Amsterdam.

OK fair enough. I was going to ask you about the gay scene in Amsterdam, but I’ll ask about the gay scene in Arnhem. You’re so proud of Arnhem - tell us about it.

Arnhem is pathetic. [laughs]

OK, um, Amsterdam?

OK, Amsterdam. You’ve got two sections. You have one with the faggots that would hang out at G [laughs], or SoHo. Anyway it’s a bunch of snotty young queens, “oooh, I’m fabulous”, you know, like the guys who go to G [laughs]. Then you’ve got the other side of town - places like The Cockring, The Eagle - where its all… you ring the buzzer and you come in and you have to buy one beer - all the divey places with the dark rooms. I remember this one time I was sitting there and this guys was talking to his friend - two Russian guys - and we were checking each other out, we were watching porn, and I got a hard-on, and I had on a Metallica shirt so everyone was afraid of me. Anyway, the guy was looking at me, and he got up to go to the bathroom, and I just went into the bathroom stall and punched the door open, stuck my cock in his mouth, shot a load all over him, and then I went back and sat down, then he went back and sat down, and we didn’t speak at all. That side of town is great. That’s where I met by boyfriend Jozua. Do you want to hear that story?

Yeah.

Can we take a break and have a cocktail?

[20 minutes later]

Ok we’re back. Powered up?

Yeah.

Ok, so we were talking about Jozua, Amsterdam, some city not called Amsterdam.

Arnhem.

You wanted to talk about Jozua?

Oh you mean the night we met?

Well, I didn’t ask, but sure.

[laughs]

Can you do it in Dutch?

[Here, Scot spits out something that may or may not have been Dutch].

Liar. LIAR!

That was really Dutch!

No it was not!

Yes it was. I said “I’m going to fuck you hard in the kitchen. Thank you. You’re welcome.”

So you know the essentials?

I know [Dutch-sounding words], Goddamn me. [More Dutch-sounding words], I’m horny. His grandmother said I need to practice my [weird back of the throat sounds], and I said you mean like when your grandson’s pubic hair gets stuck in my throat? Yeah… he took me to meet his grandparents.

OK, so picture this. Amsterdam, six years ago, I never had a prostitute, so I…

Oh god here we go….

I decided to go get a prostitute, so I go to this place called Why Not - a prostitute house. I wear my… I shouldn’t have worn this… my Misfits hoodie with a skull…

Do you own anything that doesn’t have a band logo on it?

Yes, I do. For special occasions. With my rock shirts underneath.

So, I go to this place, and they all look a little nervous because I’m a big goon, and I order a beer, and there are all the guys with their Johns and there are rooms, and there’s a book, and you know, the book tells you what they do - anal, oral, blah blah blah, and I looked through the book and didn’t like anything. Eventually this kid comes over to me and he’s kinda hot and says “hi, I just got here from Spain. I’m not in the book, but I do everything”, and he pulls my fucking hair. Nobody pulls my fucking hair. Nobody’s ever pulled my fucking hair! And he’s like “you like that?”, and I throw him against the wall and scream “FUCK NO I DON’T FUCKING LIKE IT. YOU NEED TO BACK THE FUCK UP MOTHERFUCKER”. And I sat back down and everybody was freaked out so I thought ok, you’re not going to get laid here.

Then there’s this place, I don’t know what it’s called, and the prostitutes are poor kids from the Ukraine or wherever, and they might stab you - they’re bad boys, so I thought fuck that, I’m from New York I can handle that. So I go there.

I sit at the bar, smoke a couple joints, drink a beer, nobody talks at me, nobody talks at me. They were looking at me and talking about me, but I guess because of my Misfits shirt they thought I was in the wrong bar, and I’m really fucking pissed off and horny as hell, so I’m thinking I’ll just go to The Cockring. At least there maybe I can get my cock sucked in the dark room. So I get on my bike, ride to the Cockring and it’s fucking dead except for like six trolls. So I go upstairs and this beautiful angel is playing a gambling machine. He’s got his arm in a sling, so I went up to him and whispered “boys who are injured should have better luck from God”, and he ended up winning some money and he bought me a beer. He says, “I’m in the Marines, you want to see photos of me in the Marines?”, and I’m like “dude, how old are you” and he says “19. You wan to see photos of my girlfriend?”, and I say “uuuuuh ok - have you ever been here before?”, he says “no no”, I say “do you know what kind of place this is”, he says “yeah yeah”, and we start talking, and I invite him back to my house. I asked him if he wants to stay the night and he strips down, pulls out a bag of poppers, and says “do whatever you want”. And it’s been love ever since.

He told me we’re soul mates - we’re together, we have no choice.

Awww, so sweet.

We were talking about when we first met each other and he asked what I first thought, and I said that I fell in love with him right away. He said that I’d be the perfect father.

That’s adorable.

Yeah, it was a beautiful sweet thing.

[laughs]

Lets jump to the present and your performance art. Last time I saw you perform you were wearing a Pope’s hat and fronting a “band” consisting of you and some crazy Japanese girl.

Yeah, we have another band member now who plays Bass and guitar, but it’s mostly just me and her. I’m the singer and Jozua and I write most of the lyrics. We’re called Appelmoes, pronounced apple moose. The name comes form Jozua’s grandmother, who he didn’t get to meet for a long time in his life, and he didn’t have a great childhood, but his grandmother would send him appelmoes, which is apple sauce, for Christmas. So it became a symbol of purity and love and strength and hope for him.

Appelmoes, “Obsession of Appelmoes”:

Does this explain your weekly voicemail messages about apples?

Um… yeah.

Let’s talk about your “babies”.

You don’t want to hear more about the band?

Do you need to tell me more about the band?

Yeah. The band is very… we try to be very bipolar and take you in every direction - from cheesy to scary, to happiness, to sadness, to love. everything. If a song is over three minutes we don’t do it.

Appelmoes, “Better For The Butter”:

So you’re like the Ramones of emotions.

Yeah, the Ramones of emotions. I like that. [laughs] And Jozua wrote a great new song. Can I say the lyrics? Should I sing it?

Well it’s not an audio interview so maybe just say it.

[three minutes of Scot singing] And that was written by my Netherlands lover!

The one from Amsterdam?

ARNHEM! Aren’t those great lyrics?

…sure. Can we talk about your babies now?

Yes.

So. Why don’t you explain them. I think that’s probably the best question.

[laughs]

The original inspiration - how it all began. I’m a writer and I have this big book I write in, and this artist friend of mine liked the way it looked, so when my band broke up I had nothing to do and I started painting watercolors over the pages. I started writing more personal things - I was in a really sad state of mind. Almost suicidal - anger towards my parents, being in love, being confused about love, being scared to be in love, being fucked-up, being… just being. Then I started getting into more abstract work. I work with watercolors and I paint flat. Because I’m a water sign the water in the paint is kind of my partner. I only use children’s colors from children’s paint - like Crayola colors - school stuff. The dried cakes of children’s paint.

Your work looks very stream-of consciousness. Do you do a lot of sketching and working out of issues or just go?

I love that you can see that. I just sit down and go. Sometimes I feel weird about that, but other times I just realize that’s what it is. I’ve only done two pieces that I hated. HATED! The one I hated the most ended up in an 18th century villa in Tuscany, hanging between a Monet and a Renoir. The other one was a from the Suicide Note series, the yellow one, and I hated it, but once it dried I loved it.

Did you color within the lines in your coloring books?

Hell no motherfucker! And nothing was the color it was supposed to be [laughs]. They used to tell me “black is not a color”, and I’d say “well why is it in this box of Crayons that says ‘Colored Crayons’?”. Explain it to me teacher.

Did you ever notice that Crayola used to call the peachy pinkish color ‘flesh’.

They didn’t call it peach?

Well there was peach too, but the white pinkish skin color, like mine, was called ‘flesh’.

That’s horrible.

Tell me about it.

What, that you’re that color?

[laughs]

No, that the crayon was called ‘flesh’. What else do you want to say about your babies?

That I love them, and I’ve been really lucky so far. SoHo Art Journal wrote about me as their “new discovery” after my first exhibition and a bookstore/performance art space called Rapture Cafe, which is now closed, unfortunately - because the East Village rents are going up and people don’t want to buy books.

I just sold a painting to my friend who cuts my hair - Tranny. She’s not a tranny, she’s a girl, and her name is Tranny.

I’m actually more surprised that you get haircuts.

Well, she trims it.

It’s hard being an artist. With my songs, I have them forever, but with my babies, when they’re gone they’re gone forever. But I know that all the one’s I’ve sold so far have gone to good homes.

So you’re wearing a Slayer t-shirt today with the sleeves cut off, but…

It’s the ‘God Hates Us All Tour’

yeah, I see…

But you put Campari in your vodka…

SO DID YOU…

Is that what you were going to ask me? Why did I put Campari in my drink?

What? Um, no, I was going to ask you about the day I saw you wearing a velvet jacket, coming back from the opera.

I’m a renaissance man. I have season tickets to the opera. Orchestra seats baby, if anyone’s interested. I always need somebody to go with. I love the opera. I’m sure you faggots know Patricia Field - I used to live at her house and walk her dogs when she was doing all of her California work. She has a cousin, Paul, who took me to La Bohème, and I cried and fell in love with it right then. We have the same seats every time and they always remember me [waves]. I love to get rocked-out, and the old ladies love my height, and I always bring weed. Usually I roll a half-and-half and smoke it in the corner.

People should give the opera more credit. FUCK BROADWAY, FAGGOTS. Open up your eyes, go see a woman and a man really sing - without a fucking microphone. Open up your minds! Don’t be afraid of the opera, girl. And City Opera is better than the Met because everybody sings at City Opera to get to the Met, but you faggots are gonna think “oh I have to go to the Met” because it’s the Met, but you don’t. Go to City Opera. It’s more avant garde, and they take more risks. So don’t be afraid of it, because I know how fags are. Labels, labels, labels.

[laughs]

Alright, I’m out of questions. Any last words?

You guys give me hope that boys like us are going to take the East Village back, and people that move here will become more open-minded and not be so shallow and scared of life. You move to New York to experience life, not to be afraid of it.

Ok, so I’ll see you tonight at Eastern Bloc.

Oh no you won’t. Tonight I’m working at Sugarland in Brooklyn. Oh shit that’s another door, Sugarland! Shit, I knew I forgot one.

I think we’re done.

Last 5 posts by Weston Bingham

• VIOLENS: BLOOD AND STRINGS. - August 8th, 2008
• JESSE FINLEY REED - August 5th, 2008
• BRANDON HERMAN, DIRECT FROM BRANDONHERMANLAND - July 13th, 2008
• LET THERE BE LIGHT... AND DIEGO TOLOMELLI - June 5th, 2008
• TIM HAMILTON, EAST VILLAGE HEIR APPARENT - May 4th, 2008
• FOUR SHADES OF BLACK - May 1st, 2008
• GAZING AT RYAN PFLUGER - April 20th, 2008
• REFORMED PARTY BOY GIOVANNI DI MOLA - April 16th, 2008
• MIKEL MARTON: EROTIPHILE, DEIFIER - March 29th, 2008
• THE CHANCE IS HIGHER - February 25th, 2008