Local Express premiere New York.

This past week, Shitfoot hopped aboard the Compass private jet and flew to New York. Well, Newark first because it’s way cheaper than landing in the city–we ain’t that bourgeois.

Hungover and sleep deprived, we took the train into the city and made our first stop at the Tender Trap, a BMX bar in Brooklyn’s Greenpoint that at one time wouldn’t let you in if you didn’t show up on a skateboard or a bike. The welcome sign out front reminds us, “Don’t grow up, it’s a trap.” After drinking numerous citrusy cinnamon vodka concoctions known as Cinnabags–that quench your thirst while at the same time lower your sobriety at the same rate as your bank account–we stumbled onto the subway and headed back into Manhattan.

We rolled up and found everyone waiting at the well-abused Houston Park, right next to Sunshine Cinema where the premiere was about to start. But as video premieres go, nobody really knew when it was actually supposed to start. As the sun went down somewhere, the narrow strip of clear sky–only visible between the never ending corridors of grey buildings–faded from polluted orange, to smoggy pink, then black (still I think it’s one of the more enjoyable sunsets to watch). It was time, so we stuffed our tall cans of Tecate in our pants Kids style, and with a constipated yet nonchalant stride, walked into the theater inconspicuously. I’m pretty sure they didn’t even care on account of almost everybody had booze.

John Valenti, mastermind behind Local Express, gave his profound reflective speech–“In skateboarding, people talk too much already…If you don’t like it, it’s all goodie!”

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People waiting…

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The intro was good…

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Falcon Bowse has a full part…

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And as the night went on, my memory became as cloudy as this photo here, which if you can’t tell is a clip that was filmed at Grand Rapids’ own Bosnian Banks. We made it.

The party then moved over to Max Fish, or at least a more contemporary rendition of it, a few blocks away–where in the basement one could enjoy a set by an experimental kill yourself with a hammer–type metal DJ that looked straight out of the Derelicte runway show. The rest I don’t really remember too well.

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If you happen to want to own a hard copy of the video yourself and support independent skate videos, pick one up here.

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