Next big thing seeks Shelter

WE speak now of Billie Eilish. Don’t know the name? Not my problem. She’s the new hit It. Age 17. Blond one day, green-haired the next. Pretty. Slight of build. She’s civilization’s big fresh hot shot phenomenon for the next 20 minutes.

Attention must be paid. Her album, which was released in March, debuted on Billboard’s No. 1 whateveritis.

OK. So, now. We’re talking of Shelter Island’s hotel/restaurant/ cafe Sunset Beach. It’s waterside, open for 90 days in season, charges $23 for a glass of wine, caters to what such people as refined myself might murmur is Euro’s semi trashees and the owner’s An

dré Balazs, who has Chateau Marmont, and was engaged for an hour to Uma Thurman, etc., etc.

There was a mob of young girls — and young guys — all hyperventilating about whom they called “the hottest act in music.” And who reportedly records in her brother’s California bedroom. Her big song’s “Bad Guy.” A sign out front said Chanel’s commandeered the evening to advertise their newly designed J-12 watch. And that the festivities would star Eilish. The crowd was intense. Flash bulbs popped. She arrived 10:02 p.m. in a black SUV. Then disappeared into a private rear concert area.

Kids started screaming like in the old Beatles days. One, nearly in hysterics, blubbered, “Oh, my God, she hugged me.”

My job is just to report. I personally wouldn’t know a Billie Eilish from a Walter Cronkite. I’m still collecting Bing Crosby records.