“Hey,” Joe Grushecky says, resting the Stratocaster on his knee as he picks up his iPhone, the one he just had to plug in because he has like, 12 percent of juice left. “Gimmie a minute here.” All five of the Houserockers are crammed into Joffo’s old master bedroom. Strumming, picking, tapping, tuning, waiting. Sandwiched between an old dresser, a dusty eight track stereo and a a few Vox, Fender, and Roland amps. Wires crisscrossing the floor. Frilly white curtains covering t

There are nine models in Room 304 at the Ace Hotel and one of them needs some duct tape. Like, now. “My nipples are going to show.” “Do you need a Band Aid? You put it across them like this.” “I want to wear a bra, but I think it’s gonna show.” “Oh yeah, a bra will show.” “I probably should have worn a bra.” “I have a nude bra.” “Bras are overrated.” “I don’t need to wear a bra. I mean, look. I don’t, ya know?” “Time check someone!” designer Bradford Mumpower calls out. “Sev