Incredibly small stalls, uncomfortably low ceilings, dimly lit spaces. Coming from the land of spacious restrooms (aka Los Angeles), I found New York City jazz club restrooms appalling in their claustrophobic configuration, with some bordering on unusable. There is something decidedly New York about them, with various cliques of people hanging at these little basement spaces with bathrooms to match, to listen to music from the world over that falls under the umbrella term “jazz.” In a way, it is a microcosm of the city at large, a truly urban experience of mingling with diverse populations from day to day, with people from around the globe flocking to this overcrowded and gritty city.
This blog focuses on restrooms in jazz clubs, mainly in Manhattan, as well as other extramusical things of note. It’s a culture blog, more than anything, highlighting the contrast between the multiculturalism and the sameness of the ridiculous restrooms in the jazz mecca of the world. You will also find posts supplemented with how to say “Where’s the restroom?” in different languages, for that is a phrase that will come in useful wherever you go.