Andrew Jupin’s review published on Letterboxd :
I didn't expect to be affected by this doc as much as I was. I guess if you've ever lived in a place that had any kind of creative community that you felt even remotely a part of or attached to, this just might drum up those feelings and memories for you. And if your place is still there, at least you won't get sad.
I never got around to seeing anything at Death by Audio and now after seeing Matt Conboy's great doc, I regret it terribly. What a fantastic group of dedicated, passionate, creative people who put their blood sweat and tears into creating such an amazing DIY space for art & music to flourish. Nothing but the utmost respect for every last one of them.
It's infuriating to see how they were taken out by that "hip" news empire, that corporate machine masquerading as an underground cultural barometer known as Vice. Nothing is more ironically aggravating.
So much of the Williamsburg I knew when I came to this city over ten years ago is gone, and this film is a grand document of not only an important institution that is no longer in the neighborhood, but a very special period of time there that's also all but over.
I know that's a clichéd complaint, and the folks that were there in the 90s said the same thing when my friends and I started going to bars and playing shows there, but just because it's a well-worn complaint doesn't make it any less valid. At least those people only had to see different kinds of music and art get made—and maybe a few less murders happen.
Now as people can't afford to even live there anymore, we have to walk down Bedford Avenue and look at things like Starbucks and Gap and whatever other conglomerated horseshit pile in while some dude in a three piece suit that costs more than my rent walks into a Duane Reade to buy pretzels. It's just a real bummer.
Listen to small bands. Go to tiny art galleries. Write your own stories.
Whatever you do, don't read Vice.