• In addition to their son, 6, Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker will by this summer have twin girls. Through a surrogate. Who had better not be a redhead in her mid-20s, because no one will buy that
• Susan Boyle is shopping a "tell-all" book proposal. Book people are all, "eh, we kind of know it 'all' already, right?" [P6]
  
• Mel Gibson's official new ladyfriend Oksana Grigorieva is the sort of composer who promotes her music by posing in lingerie on top of a piano. [Sun]
  
• TMZ swears this is a picture of Tupac Shakur, alive in New Orleans last weekend. Because Shakur would totally go to the trouble of faking his death, then neglect to remove his nose ring, shave his goatee or grow some hair on his head. [TMZ]
  
• Moby broke his ankle just walking into the kick-boxing ring. That's what you call one of those Renaissance Men. [P6]
  
• If Britney Spears wants to communicate with her ex-manager/boyfriend Sam Lutfi, she'll have to continue to do so via illicit spy decoder ring transactions in hotel saunas, because a judge just extended Lutfi's restraining order to three years.

Granted, Saturday Night Live castmember Fred Armisen was there, and he's black, but it wasn't about him: This was a project of art-band leader Tim Harrington for (naturally) Pitchfork TV. There were many annoying people smoking cigarettes! Or at least that was our impression from the Observer's recap:

Eventually, everyone was corralled from the makeshift smoking lounge into the recording space to film the video... (sample lyric: "We're giving cash to all the trust fund kids this year").

It was not exactly a humble self-acknowledgment to line up local New York popular kids as though they were Michael Jackson's all-star cast... on a set of bleachers, giving the scene the look of a yearbook photoshoot where the nerdy had been intentionally misdirected to the wrong place. Mr. Harrington—who, at some point, changed into an outfit consisting of a pair of bright red briefs, yellow knee-socks, a white T-shirt, and rainbow striped gloves—acted as the conductor...

You might think this was just a harmless bit of fun, but no: These are very important people!

Out in the hall, conversation turned, as it does in these social climes, to the trials of becoming the most famous person to emerge from one's hometown.

Next up, the parody tribe wants to get NYU kids "involved" in their fun. It's never too young to start learning unredeemed self-absorption!

Well, we don't know, Moby, we hear from multiple sources that you are very endearing! But come on: you can "free Tibet" and be concerned about deforestation and moan about the gentrification of the city (that you are contributing to) all you want—but you're still a capitalist who just sold some multimillion dollar property in the East Village to a Texan natural-gas broker. Chalk it up to a difference in philosophy.

[Curbed; NY Observer]

First things, first. In the interest of full-disclosure, my relationship with Moby is somewhere between good friends and acquaintances, which is to say, he's been to a birthday party of mine, I've hung out with his band mates, Laura Dawn, and Darren Murphy, and know their drummer, Aaron Brooks, because we worked together for several years at the Village Voice, where he was an IT guy, and spent many hours explaining computerese to me. Also, I've been in Moby's hot tub, but you'll have to click after the jump to find out if anyone was naked in said hot tub.

Psyche! (No, neither of us was naked, but a rather prominent newscaster at a major network was. Cue the gossip wags.)

Onward with the totally, unabashedly non-objective review of the evening: Like Moby, I am an "unrepentant raver"—words which he used to describe himself last night—so I am drawn more to the Moby-as-dance-music artist, than the Moby-as-rocker configuration. I was shocked, shocked! I tell you to discover that I preferred the more traditional, "rockist" portion of the band's three-pronged set.

The band wasted no time turning the very civilized, seated crowd into dancing maniacs, playing their techno-heavy hits back to back, including, "Go," "Bodyrock" and "Disco Lies."

By the end of that portion, the audience was on their feet and then it all came to very abrupt, awkward halt when Nic Harcourt came out and sat on the couch, and began to ask Moby questions. I half expected them to start sipping tea.

Harcourt's interview—broadcast live—started with a Hollywood-friendly question: "If you could pick a Scientologist to kill you, who would it be? (Moby picked Jason Lee). The rest of the interview was pretty basic, how you got into music 101, fare, asking Moby about his musical firsts.

Here we learned that "Proud Mary" was his first musical memory; his first make out session that went to second base was to "Dream On," a recollection during which he shared that his current 40-something-old male breasts are now larger than the teenage girl in question, to which Harcourt appropriately warned him: "That was WAY too much information." We also learned that he was a loner who would sit in the corner at lunch and listen to Joy Division records. (Shocka!)

He explained that he thought he'd never make it in music, "and I'd spend my entire life teaching community college and that maybe I might have a girlfriend who would listen to my music."

Even though Play, his biggest record, would eventually become critically acclaimed, the initial reaction was not so rosy. "My favorite review was in either in the LA Weekly or LA Times, and it was almost like a Spinal Tap review. The writer wrote, 'There's a song on the record called, "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?' and it's because I had to listen to this album.''"

Moby's pretty self-depreciating and self-aware, and is one of the only people that's actually good at onstage banter. He told fanboy, "name-dropping rock star stories" about giddily playing "Heroes" with David Bowie on his couch; or being trapped in cocaine-addled conversations with washed out 80s rock stars talking about the Celestine Prophecy. Throughout the evening, he asked if "Everyone was still having a nice time," and explained that he wasn't kneeling in between songs to affect a "rock star pose." Rather, it was because he was old and couldn't see the set list. "So," he paused before starting the next song. "Clearly, God hates me and has taken away my hair and given me bad eyes."

With that they launched into the psychedelic, more rockin' portion of the set, that included a song that was beatboxed by their keyboardist, a rendition of "We Are All Made of Stars," and a slower, heavier version of "Porcelain." During this part of the set, audience members would be forgiven if they thought Moby had turned into a hot blond chick. His vocalist Laura Dawn (also heavily involved in Moveon) basically took over during this leg and it was divine. They ended with extended renditions of "Next is the E," and "Honey."


Afterward, we all dutifully filed in the "green room," where actress Heather Graham also hung out waiting to greet the band. Near, the end of the evening, a female fan came up to Moby and congratulated him on the set. "I feel like you're my friend, now." Yes, that will happen when your neighborhood rock star goes TMI on you.

[Photo Credits: Jessica Holmes Photography (stage, couch); Tricia Romano (crowd)]

• KCRW Sessions: Moby

Oh, and before the hate comments start pouring in, Moby said it! We don't think that Britney's fat. She's just looks like your average American girl now. Your average American girl who doesn't live in New York, L.A. or Miami.

New York magazine recently called you a "stealth slut." What does that mean?

More often than not, whenever gossip has been written about me, the gossip is more interesting than the reality. I know some public figures hate gossip, but personally I like it because it makes my life sound more glamorous and interesting than it really is.

A part of me wants to sort of try and sound cool and feed this myth that I'm some sort of glamorous lothario, but I was raised by women — my mother and her mother and my aunts — and as a result most of my friends have always been women. So I guess some people in the media will see me with lots of different women and assume that I'm dating all of them, and as unsexy as this might sound, they're just my friends. Of course, I'm not a saint; occasionally I go out and get drunk and go home with a stranger, but I'm not at Tommy Lee levels or anything.

My, thanks! But Moby, how to you keep up this frantic Lothario pace at your age?

Is it a little bit more difficult now that you're older, staying out late and going to clubs?

No — if anything, I go out more and stay out later now than I ever have. The only difference is, the recovery time is longer. When I was 19, going out and drinking all night, by noon the next day, you're fine. And now, the hangovers really do last 24 hours. It's almost like every hour that I'm out drinking is going to involve four hours being hung over. The ratio just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

See, as a barely functioning alcoholic, I've tried every hangover cure. I'll stumble into the deli, and they'll have some new Russian hangover medicine, or I'll read online that it's all about bananas; it's potassium. The only thing I've found that works for me is water and Xanax. You take a Xanax, you drink a lot of water, you go to sleep for six hours, and that usually helps.

You've been such an ally to the gay community that you've taken some heat for it — like when you stated in an interview that gays were "superior to straight people." Do you stand by that?

Yeah, and I also said that if and when I ever have children, I want gay children, which didn't really endear me to the Christian right wing of America. There are a lot of people in the world who are virulently homophobic or misogynistic or anti-Semitic, and what baffles me is that if you just look at it empirically, gays, women, and Jews are certainly responsible for far fewer violent crimes than straight white guys. They've started fewer wars, and they tend to be well educated, fun to hang out with, and they have nice homes, bars, and restaurants.

....

You've described yourself as "neither straight nor gay." Do you consider yourself bisexual?

I just like to think of myself as being pretty open-minded. Also, you never know what the future might bring, so I have no idea. It's a cliché to say this, but in a perfect world, the dichotomous definition of straight and gay would probably carry less weight.

Fine, hush now!

Sabala, who started at Digg on February 6 as community manager and marketing director, is a SXSW veteran. (You can tell because she calls it "South By.") She was set on the idea of a party at the festival, but by Friday, she and the rest of Digg had decided it was a nonstarter. The next Monday, though, she gave it another try. A call to a Napa winery landed a sponsor for wine. A call to a contact at PureVolume secured the club for Tuesday night. With that, Sabala had a party that bridged SXSW Interactive's last day and the SXSW Music's first.

A few blocks away at Six Lounge, Revision3 was also bridging music and the Web, with a live debut of "Rock Band," Randi Jayne Zuckerberg and David Prager's homage to the guitar-wielding videogame at a party hosted by Rana Sobhany. Kevin Rose ruled Austin last night — he also cofounded Revision3.

Prager, Revision3's COO, told me Monday about the times he'd put money from his own bank account into Revision3's coffers to make sure it made payroll. Those lean days are long past for both of Rose's companies. Even as the stock markets waiver, Web startups seem flusher than ever. A Microsoft ad deal has buoyed Digg; the online-video boom is taking care of Revision3's paychecks.

Are we going to see this kind of party scene at next year's SXSW? Let's be clear: SXSW was a good time, not a boundless bacchanal. Nothing smacked of excess: A mild dose of star power is enough to intoxicate the deskbound Web designers who attend the festival. But I noticed that no one talked about the stock market once the whole week. SXSW was a comfortable bubble. As the Webheads fly back home, will they even feel it popping?

• Britney Spears hanger-on Sam Lutfi must henceforth keep 250 yards from the singer because as Britney's mom reminded us, he "gave Britney Spears pills ground up in her food to keep her quiet and at one point he told Britney she had to take 10 pills a day if she wanted to see her two young children." [Reuters]
• Lutfi's lawyer tried to say he wasn't properly served with the restraining order paperwork. The judge basically laughed. Lutfi's legal team then asked if the judge would like maybe a home-made scone or some coffee or maybe an "aspirin."
• Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes will supposedly come to Prince's hot Oscar party, along with Penelope Cruz. When the catfighting and Scientology recruiting speeches begin, scoot on over to the real LA Oscar party, hosted by queen diva Elton John.
• Ryan Phillippe endorsed Obama, and has the cool Shepard Fairey t-shirt to prove it. Against all odds, the left-of-Hillary, cool and charismatic black Democratic candidate is dominating among gorgeous celebrities. [X17]
• Brangelina were confused, until they realized Clint Eastwood and his wife were waiting for them at the uncool restaurant across the street. Then everyone not pregnant ordered wine and got drunk and happy. Lesson: Clint Eastwood likes to drink. Oh, and you'll usually have a better time at the uncool restaurant! [Showbiz Spy]
• Teen star Miley Cyrus apologized for not wearing her seatbelt in a movie or raising your children for you or transforming you into a responsible human being who has better things to do than yell at a teen star over some stupid shit. [AP]
• Riverbank Hotel staff "baffled" that Amy Winehouse trashed her room over two weeks, leaving "the floor strewn in champagne bottles and unwashed knickers." Maybe if she had checked in under the assumed name "I Live To Trash Hotel Rooms" they might have seen this coming. Probably not, though. [Showbiz Spy]
• Eminem to finally let the world in on his family dramas and emotional issues, in a book. [People]
• Moby thinks people hate him because Natalie Portman was his girlfriend this one time. Oh, Moby. [P6]

From the paper:

Moby, who began playing just after 5pm this evening, started off with well known tracks, such as 'Honey', 'Natural Blues' and 'Why does my heart feel so bad', but soon began to run out of material because he, and singer Joy Malcolm had not rehearsed.

He continued: "It was good. we did not announce anything and I did not even tell any of my friends in the UK, so it was very impromptu.
"We ran out of actual singles, so we started improvising and playing the Blues. Joy started making up lyrics - she's fearless."

Stuck in the subway, and I've run out of all my hits I said, I'm stuck in the subway, and I've run out of all my hits Hasn't been this bleak down here, oh baby, since the London Blitz. I'm too old to cry and I'm too young to carry on. I said, I'm too old to cry and I'm way to young to carry on (don't you know, baby girl?) I live in New York City, but wooo (Falsetto) I grew up in Darrien.

Heavy black eye makeup, black hat and walking casually with someone. I know, everyone sees her, her and Moby in NoLita. I think I've seen them like five times! Maybe next time i will say hi.....i bet they are craving a friendly "hello neighbor!" :)

Tonight is Kol Nidre; tomorrow, the Jews of the world apologize to anyone who will listen about all their conniving heeb behavior during the previous lunar year. On Saturday, city and state machers (and anyone who shelled out $150 for the honor of dovening next to Gov. Spitzer) can be found self-flagellating at Temple Emanu-El. Observant lesbians will be found beating their hoary bosoms at the prestigious Park Slope Jewish Center. Hipster Jews in pink tights will like pray or whatever at The Shul of New York, the Mr. Black of synagogues. So in the spirit of atonement and definitely wanting to end up in the Book of Life , here's a list of individuals to whom I'd like to apologize.

• Publicist LOLgay Kristian Laliberte: You may be a vapid husk of a man, but you are helping out the UN so at least you're a vapid husk of a mensch too. Credit where credit is due. We wish you luck in your ongoing battle against Micah Jesse and the limitations of your soul.
  
• Moby: When we saw you last night at Tropical, that crazy woods-themed bar in Chinatown, you seemed like a nice enough guy, buying Red Bull for your friends and drinks too. Maybe you aren't a semicolon but an inverted exclamation point, after all.
  
• Fred Kibbler III: You were the wasted journalist at the Ivy Cup but apparently you weren't wasted, so you told that to our lawyer. Our bad. You are totally not an alcoholic.
  
• NY Post real estate guy Braden Kiel: Sorry for never, not once, spelling your name correctly. Oh shit. I did it again. Sorry!
  
• Brenda: When we stayed with you in the Hamptons you were nothing but kind and a little bit crazy. You even took us to one of the superlative parties of our lives. Did you deserve to be mocked for your cameltoe and quirkiness? Probably. But also, probably not.
  
• Rachel Sklar: Sorry for focusing on your rack to the exclusion of everything else you've accomplished in your life. That said, it is your most valuable asset.
  
• Julia Allison: Ditto but sub lack of all dignity for rack.

Moby Finally Finds a Buyer for Upper West Side Penthouse [NYM]