The 70s were a bizarre time to say the least for New Yorkers. A tumultuous era of crime, blackouts, art and many possibilities…

There’s a reason why we can’t stop talking about New York in the 70s; and a good one at that. Recently there’s been, in TV, film and certainly in books, an intense yearning for what used to be New York City in the 70s. A craving for a city that, while at its worst, was also more democratic where rich and poor were stuck together in the misery and the freedom of the place… As long as you carried yourself like a rock star it didn’t matter how much was in your pocket.

It was a time of opportunities and dreams. Painters, musicians and writers all knew eachother and they were all accessible. Rents were low and thus, artists, singers, dancers could afford to live in Manhattan. Young unknowns could achieve fame or at least rub shoulders with it, if they didn’t mind the rats galloping underfoot or a stickup in broad daylight on busy Christopher Street. Mind you people were fearless then.

Night life was a necessity if you wanted to be an artist and there was no such thing as certain clubs for certain types of people. Whether it was the Mudd Club or even Studio 54 to a degree, it was all about the mix of people.

Remembered through the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, the 70s represent the last vestige of New York history in which the city might have had its most egalitarian phase, yet at the core it was just as much if not more, dangerous, competitive and gritty…