article about NYC clubs

Shallow Viewpoint, for a Shallow Club Scene

The nineties were a tumultuous time for the whole club scene. With humanities culture shock of the club kid movement running ramped through the New York City nightlife, atrocities like “Tunnel” and “the Limelight” fed the fuel. For in these clubs was a festering cesspool of drug addicted, adrenaline hopped up junkies looking for an escape from reality. This was a place where the crazier the better became the everyday. This was where kids can dress like babies, or monsters, or whatever their hearts desire was. The scene was scary; as one insane act tried to out do another. With a cult like leader such as Michael Alig guiding his troops of abominations, there seemed to be no hope for today’s generation. But alas, we come to the year 2009 where things have greatly changed…perhaps for the worse.

Places like the Limelight catered to no particular person. Anybody could walk in and find what they were looking for. These clubs were about being you and finding some inner beast and unleashing it. Eccentricity was encouraged, while being normal was strange. Flip back to 2009 and this is not the case. In today’s world mediocrity and lack of creativity is praised. Everyone wants to be like the person next to them. Guys strive to be the “cool guy” until there is no cool guy, just a bunch of dudes who look like clones. Stepping into a club is like transporting into some strange realm where monotony, self-indulgence, and looking alike prevail.

It’s amazing to see clubs geared for a certain group of people. One club is for a hip-hop crowd, while another is for a techno crowd. Still other clubs are just for upper class, while a few cater to the artsy. Girls waiting online are checked out up and down to make sure their measurements and “hotness” factor are to club standards. The most attractive get in for free, the moderate looking get in for half, while the “not so much” get the boot. The looks checklist doesn’t normally apply for guys, who conveniently have to shell out paper to get their way in. Groups of club goers are turned down or leave because unfortunately their friends did not meet the standards of the particular club. Who’s to say that bouncers know what true beauty is anyway? They are just a bunch of goons standing by a door making judgments of every living thing that walks. Shamefully for some, these same meatheads are preventing them from getting lost in a trance of sweaty grinding and an alcohol littered night out with friends.

If you are lucky enough to get in past the bouncers and ticket booth, just ahead lies the coat check. After dishing out some more cash just for a place to hold your coat, on comes maybe the first section of many dance floors. Here is where you encounter the pulsing ambiance of the DJ. Right away you’ll know if you like his music, and if you don’t you’re at loss anyway. The bass is turned up so loud that dancing is almost a robotic instinct as guidos fist pump, and girls twirl and bump on men and woman alike. Sexual orientation doesn’t matter as girls to dance up on each other in a club setting.

Next is the VIP section where only the hottest girls and richest guys or lucky by association get in. Here is where you’ll find leather couches and a bar swelling with drinks. A girl walks around telling the guys that it’s her birthday and she is rewarded with free drinks all night. With drinks being about fifteen bucks a pop, she shares the drinks with her “less fortunate” friends. An outpouring of cranberry vodka and Long Island ice tea’s make up the alcohol diet of the girls at the bar, while the men go for shots of hard liquor or specially mixed cocktails.

The liquid courage gives the guys balls of steal, as they hit on anything that moves whether knockout or creature of the night. In all reality it’s mostly the beer goggles talking as they lean in for unsuccessful kisses or failed attempts at number exchanging. While some hit the jackpot, others get bruised egos by girls that actually have some self-respect.

Then there’s always the room on the side or beginning where everyone is an equal. The DJ is playing hip-hop, as the crowd jives to the latest top 40 hits in a crowded claustrophobic room. The smell of body odor, booze, and Aqua DiGio cologne infiltrates the senses all the while getting blasted by the noise, and blinded by the spotlights flashing through the dark. Oddly enough through the mountains of people and all the dancing, the temperature remains quite comfortable. Maybe the ultra enhanced or flooded senses are not noticing the changes with so much going on, especially the things happening under their noses.

A stark difference between now and the nineties is that the drugs go unnoticed if they are even present at all. Perhaps the people are buying it before they get there, or are just really discrete about it. It seems more likely that the vice of choice these days is alcohol anyway. It makes you wonder, how many of these people in here are even of legal drinking age? The owners don’t really care; it’s all about making that “dollar dollar bill”. The people are the consumers and the club is the product. Without the selling of drugs and having so many inside promoters, the owners will take whatever money they get to quell their pockets.

It’s clearly evident that the obscene nature of the nineties club scene did little to destroy the future stake of profits to be made in New York City nightlife. Even with the economy plummeting it’s astounding to see people going out and having a great time. Funny how young adults are so stingy with money, but they have no problem dropping a couple hundred on some drinks every Friday night. You have to ask yourself, where will this lead to? What’s going to be the next big movement? The club kids are out, the party gangster movement is in progress, what now? Perhaps the answer lies within one of the out of the ordinary people standing amongst the polos, gelled hair, fake tans, and revealing miniskirts. They are just standing there taking it all in looking for their niche, and formulating the next big thing. Give it another ten years and maybe this article will be irrelevant, but for now…welcome to the club era.