The NYC 1990s Nightlife Chronicles

Going out in the ‘90s primarily meant going to one of the city’s mega clubs, huge places with an ever-changing carousel of costumes, faces, themed parties and rooms, and the latest, most addictive music. It was the antithesis of boredom, a form of creative chaos like nothing else!

Get In Here

In the heyday of the ‘90s clubbing scene, it didn’t matter whether you had money or fame. If the doorman didn’t want you to come in, you couldn’t do anything about it, no matter how many hundred dollar bills you waved in his face. Bottle service didn’t even exist, so there was no slick workaround, even for people willing to shell out on that scale. 

Many times, even famous celebrities would be snubbed at the door. This would lead to tabloid-worthy hissy fits, complete with screams of “Do you even know who I am?” and “You better start looking for a new job, because you’re about to get fired!” All of this just added to the appeal, of course. Getting in was as egalitarian as it was unpredictable. And that same celebrity would just as likely come back next week, pretend like nothing had happened, and kiss the doorman on the way in.

Man the Door

There were a slew of oddballs and creatives who did the door at different nightclubs. These powerful, mysterious individuals basically became celebrities in their own right, with the most famous and recognizable being Kenny Kenny, whose Irish brogue could deliver the most devastating “Step. Off. The line,” or a welcoming, “You look fabulous.”  

Another notable doorman was actually not a doorman at all. Steve Lewis often worked the door at his own club where he was COO, for the purpose of curating the crowd. He had an innate sense for creating an exciting mix of people, and that played a big part in his success. With a Humphrey Bogart look and demeanor, he did the job quietly and with finesse.

Other famous faces of the time included Aphrodita, a literal teenage girl (she was probably no older than sixteen or so). With her tall, sleek figure and beautiful face, she really did look like a Greek goddess. She always had her hair in a high ponytail, ‘70s style, and wore go-go boots and miniskirts, similar to Lady Kier from the group Deee-Lite. Then there was Irv Johnson, a super tall, built black guy who always wore a suit and tie. He was polished, well-spoken, and reserved. And no one could forget KING, a tall, heavyset man with a thick goatee. He wore huge gold rings on all his fingers, big huge sunglasses (at night), and always had on a big fur coat or overcoat with a suit and tie beneath it. While these were his constant accessories, he routinely changed up the last one: his top hat.

Diverse Diversions

When the only qualification to get in was being interesting (and/or gorgeous), the crowd in these clubs was eclectic in the extreme. “Club kids'' were always a part of the mix, with their famously outrageous aesthetic. Ravers, euro trash, drag queens, hipsters, and waify heroin-chic models partied with Wall Street suits, downtown art hipsters, and the “bridge and tunnel” crowd—those of us who didn’t live in the city, but came in from the outer boroughs via bridges and tunnels. The city’s gay and lesbian scene, yuppies, and preppy kids from “Ivy League high schools” like Riverdale and Dalton mobbed into mega clubs to party the night away. 

All of these different types (and stereotypes) of people came together in one place, to experience each other. It was its own learning experience, and it was extremely fun. Nowhere else could you find this kind of diversity, spontaneously created with an atmosphere of unity, curiosity, and acceptance. 

Levels and Rooms

While clubs were outlandish almost as a raison d’etre, most of them had an added level of mystery because of their locations: club owners often built up places in seedy, underdeveloped areas in Times Square or downtown. These clubs were massive, multilevel establishments that were designed to allow patrons to explore, finding experience after experience throughout the night.

Not only did this benefit patrons, it also benefited the club and party promoters. They could lure in masses of people who were into different kinds of music, fashion, and fun. Sometimes promoters would specifically create parties in just one room of a club, for just one type of patron. 

The Limelight

One major example? The Limelight, a deconsecrated church that Peter Gatien turned into a hedonistic nightclub. It had “the Chapel,” a side room on the first floor with an S&M theme, “the Shampoo Room” which frequently hosted foam parties, a main dancefloor, a stage (which was sometimes screened off and turned into a VIP area), “the Library,” “the Art Room” (where Andy Warhol was a frequent patron), and various other rooms that would pop up from time to time.

The Tunnel

The Tunnel was another mega-club, built out of an old railroad terminal in Chelsea, and named after the tunnel-shaped main room. Literal railroad tracks in a sunken groove ran across the dance floor. Additionally, there was a psychedelic mushroom-themed room, with lights moving up the walls like a giant lava lamp, couches shaped like red mushrooms with white spots, and psychedelic music. It was designed by Kenny Scharf, and known as Kenny Scharf’s Lava Lounge. 

Tunnel also had a batting cage, half-pipe for skateboarding, and a basement lounge in the cellar called Xander’s Cafe. But the best and coolest part was the huge, unisex bathroom. It had its own bar area and DJ, and was the hottest place in the club to hang out.

Club USA

Probably the most over-the-top, fun club during that time was Club USA. The main dance floor was adjacent to a stage that was sometimes visible, and sometimes hidden by a dark screen that came down from the ceiling to turn it into a VIP room. Most of the time, this area was strewn with Persian carpets, velvet pillows, and small golden tables with hookahs.

Two sets of stairs arched up to a second-floor mezzanine, which overlooked the dance floor. If you wanted to go back down to the main floor, you could take the stairs—or go down a long, orange twisty slide like the kind you find at waterparks! Many a drunk patron would come to regret what they thought would be a fun slide down to the dance floor. But I inevitably took the slide any time we went there.

The mezzanine level had its own DJ, and some couches and nooks where you could sit down and chill. There was also a hallway which led to an upstairs VIP room, lined with about 15 small peep-show booths that were real, video-based peep shows showing porn on a TV screen for a quarter. (The real draw, of course, was the privacy: this was where patrons went to indulge in things they shouldn’t be doing, when it came to sex and drugs.) The VIP room was the holy grail of the place, and everyone wanted to get into it. Once you did, you found a bar and an outside deck that overlooked a huge portion of Times Square. Inside, there was seating, including a wide staircase to nowhere built along one wall, where people would lounge. This room was named the Thierry Mugler Room, after the famous fashion designer.

Club USA also had a downstairs hip-hop room, playing the latest in that genre of music. It had a lounge-type feel with big comfortable couches surrounding a small dance floor. 

Peace, Life, and Webster Hall

These three clubs were similar to the other mega-clubs, with multiple levels and themes. Webster Hall had a reggae and hip-hop theme in the basement, and a pop/rock theme on the ground floor. The lounge area there was more like a bar scene than a club scene, with pool tables and  so on. Upstairs was the main attraction, with dance, techno, and house music, along with crazy acrobatics shows like something from the Cirque du Soleil.

Music and Sound

In the ‘90’s, the most popular DJs played mostly house and techno music at clubs, and were featured on the main dance floors, while other kinds of music like pop and hip-hop were in more specific rooms and floors. Some of the best DJs of the era were Junior Vasquez, Hex Hector, DJ Keoki, Danny Tenaglia, and Jonathan Peters. DJ Stretch Armstrong was also huge, and did a lot in the hip-hop scene.

On one of the first nights I ever went to Limelight, I heard two songs that I fell in love with and played on repeat, once I got my hands on them (which took weeks but was totally worth it). The first was Apotheosis’ techno remix of the classical piece ‘O Fortuna.’ I had never heard anything like it, and neither had the crowd going insane on the dance floor. It was such a fitting song for that time and place, with a dark, Goth intensity and irresistible tempo. 

The other was called ‘James Brown Is Dead.’ It had an aggressive, hypnotizing sound, and a slick, irresistible beat similar to the O Fortuna remix. These two songs were basically the anthems of the club scene in the early ‘90s, and in their own way, sum it up perfectly.

Unforgettable

I lived and breathed the ‘90s club scene in NYC from high school through college, and beyond. That unforgettable decade became a legend for a number of reasons, but some of the most interesting were the personalities involved, the diversity of the crowds, the mystique of the clubs themselves, and the cutting-edge music. Looking back, it was almost like spending the night at the circus—but you were actually inside the circus, not just watching from the stands.