This is going to be a post about 90s dance music and the 90s New York City (and surrounding areas) nightclub scene. I’m not particularly proud of my once taste in music, but I’m certainly proud of the many good times I’ve had in the once nightclubs. There’s a lot to tell from this era and if you happened to have been alive during it and if you happened to have lived in the New York tri-state area, you may just relate to what I’m about to share below. Either that, or you were simply annoyed by the entire thing. Or you found yourself somewhere in the middle.
I grew up about an hour north of New York City. I lived in what’s referred to as a bedroom community, which is a suburb located outside a city in which the bedroom community’s residents largely work. My town wasn’t particularly exciting and I, as well as many other residents, often lamented its lack of goings on. While my town wasn’t the center of activity, it was at least near the center of activity. Southern Westchester County as well as NYC offered tons to do. As I grew into my late teens and early twenties, I took full advantage of many of those offerings.
To start this post off, I’d like you to watch a bit of the following video. While it was recorded during the late 1980s, it’s indicative of our area’s energy during the early to mid-90s as well. In the video is an ex-NYC DJ named Broadway Bill Lee. While he’s moved around quite a bit, during the late 80s and early 90s, he worked as a jock at a high power radio station called Hot 97. During the late 90s, he worked at WKTU, which was a direct competitor of Hot 97. Both stations have had their ups and downs through the years, but when I was around 20 years old, these two were the best dance stations on the air. Hands down, nothing could compare to the New York City radio market and no one could compare to the talent the market attracted. Most people in the know will agree that Bill was a dream DJ – one who other stations would have surely fought for.
As a side note, I left southern New York in 1996, so I have no idea what happened to music after that. From what I gather, it exploded and went straight down hill. I’d like to think my absence had something to do with that.
When I used to listen to Hot 97 during summer’s simmering days, usually Fridays, usually during the middle of July, I imagined people leaving their jobs in those giant skyscrapers in the city and skipping out onto the sidewalks, thinking about what they were going to do those nights and into the weekends. Electricity was certainly in the air. I remember back when I was a lifeguard at a fitness club, I had a few friends who were members of the club. One in particular used to sit in the hot tub near the pool and would tell me about the apartment he was renting on West 3rd Street in Greenwich Village. He’d regularly invite me down to hang out. “All of us’ll just be sitting up on the roof with some beers, looking out over the city. It’s like nothing else. You gotta see the view!” I’m not sure why I hesitated to visit him. I’m sure I’d still be telling stories about it today.
Taxis would be driving by, people would be playing basketball, and music would be everywhere. Whether it be Z100, Hot 97, WPLJ, or WKTU, if it was Friday night, the entire tri-state area would be in the mood to unwind. And during the summer of 1996, unwind I did. I’ll remember that summer forever.
I used to talk to a lot of people while sitting in that lifeguard chair. We’d make plans to go out for the night or to do whatever. Members and employees of the club alike would stop by to relax and tell me their problems. I oftentimes confess that the job at the fitness club got me through community college. I’d work the shift between 3-6PM and during that time, I’d do my homework at the designated lifeguard table. There wasn’t much serious swimming going on, so it’s not like I was responsible for watching too many people. Those boring hours allowed me to focus on much more important things – passing my classes and getting the heck out of that bedroom community.
During the 1990s in the New York City area, nightclubs were a very real thing. I know this because I’ve visited some of them and I’d listen as the radio DJs advertised most of them every single weekend. The clubs would advertise more than any other business. “Meet me at Hunka Bunka Ballroom in Sayreville!” I’ll never forget that one. “CBGB. The destination.” I’ll never forget that one either. And again, as I listened to the ads on the air, I imagined so many people in the city walking the sidewalks in their best clothes, heading into and partying at each and every one of these clubs. Being so young and looking at the world so wide eyed, the thought of all this was invigorating. And as for the nightclubs in question, think The Tunnel, Twilo, CBGB, The Sound Factory, Palladium, Limelight, Club Exit, and my favorite of all time, Webster Hall. But more realistically and based in the suburbs were Polos situated in Brewster, Colors situated in Elmsford, Streets situated in New Rochelle, and The Ivy situated in Greenwich. I frequented Polos and Colors by far the most because I lived within a half hour of each. There was no driving into Manhattan or southern Connecticut and paying for parking. There was no driving home long distances at 3AM, exhausted and disheveled. From those two clubs, the ride home took mere minutes.
I must have visited Polos and Colors twenty-something times during the summer of 1996. I’m not sure why I became so enthralled with both of them at the time, but if I had to guess, I’d say it had something to do with my recent graduation from Westchester Community College and my impending move to Binghamton University. I felt alive. I remember telling my friend Rob, “Rob, I’m going to make it happen this summer. Every single thing I want to do, I’m going to do.” I realized my determination and actually did a lot of what I wanted. Mostly, I visited those two nightclubs with friends, but I sometimes went out by myself when no friends were available. I remember one time when I went to Colors. I suppose I had a bit too much fun and I found myself waking up in my car in the corner of the parking lot around 6AM. I drove home on Interstate 684, traveling in the opposite direction of everyone else who was heading out to work.
Really though, it’s not like I was alone while in the clubs. Through the weeks, I had managed to make quite a few friends. So when I walked through the doors, I was greeted with big smiles and lots of hugs. The music was great, the drinks were great, and the people were great. I truly felt as though I had found my scene. As you can imagine, nightclubs were very popular during those years. It seemed like they were being launched all over the place. In Brewster alone, the Polos club I referred to earlier experienced quite a few iterations; Fore n Aft, Polos, Miami Heat, Streets North, Polos again, and then I think Streets North again. Something like that. Whatever the case, each and every time the nightclub was in business, people were waiting in lines to get inside.
My memory is a bit fuzzy here, but during the summer of 1996 some time, my friend Craig approached me with the deal of a lifetime. He had somehow or somewhere managed to get his hands on a ring or a flyer or a hat or something that would allow the two of us to experience Psychedelic Thursdays at Webster Hall for only a few dollars at the entrance. What a deal, I thought. I wondered what Psychedelic Thursdays was.
As I now search the internet for some history, I see that Craig had actually located a pin (a small round one, sort of like a political pin you would wear on a shirt). I have no idea where he got it, but it was apparently enough for the two of us to drive to Manhattan to visit the club. I’m forever grateful that we did, because, apparently, we enjoyed part of an era of New York City history. This is how DJ Dina Regine put it:
“Back in the 90s, I DJ-ed Psychedelic Thursdays in the Marlin Room at Webster Hall for many years. Week after week, thousands of people came to dance away all their problems of the world, and have a fantastic time. The room would get so hot and steamy, my vinyl would actually sweat to the point of getting warped! Hard to put into words the vibe we experienced every week, you just had to be there. Magical.”
It truly was magical. Craig and I went nuts that first Thursday night and returned for more during the summer. From what I recall, Webster Hall offered four bars and a few different dancefloors. The place was packed with people, just as DJ Dina put it, dancing their problems away. While I was joining the rest, I remember reflecting on how lucky I was to be having the time of my life right there in a famous nightclub in one of the greatest cities in the world. Not many people get to say that.
By the way, if you’re interested in seeing what Webster Hall looks like and feels like on the inside, I encourage you to watch this video. It was filmed in 2016, but really, it paints an accurate picture of what it was like during my time. Such debauchery!
My plan for this post was to write about how much fun the scene was at all the various nightclubs in the NYC area during the 90s. I would talk about how great they were and then about how Webster Hall stood the test of time – the only one that didn’t disappear. As I read about Webster Hall now though, I realize that it was actually sold in 2017 to an event group and the dance nights have ended. So it seems as though the silent nightclub killer has taken the last man standing. What a shame. Although, I’ll say that the sale and closure was intended to renovate the venue. The new owners allegedly reopened in 2019 and some sort of a dance night returned. I’ll need to do some more reading on that.
Through the years, the spirit of every single nightclub I’ve mentioned in this post has evaporated into the abyss. Polos mysteriously caught fire and burned down, The Ivy has transformed itself into a liquor store or something like that, Streets is like it never happened – I can’t find a thing on it, Colors was demolished to build a grocery store, and the rest in the city and Westchester have fallen prey to rising rents and exorbitant taxes. I personally believe that dance music fell by the wayside to make room for bar music and other atrocious genres. Think Hootie & the Blowfish, Dave Matthews, and flannel. Yes, flannel. Ah, the late 90s brought in a totally new style of clothing as well as a new style of music – neither of which were very conducive to people congregating to get drunk and dance like freaks. Now again, I must remind you that I didn’t stick around southern New York after 1996, so I can’t be sure of what actually occurred. But from what I gather, the embarrassing music I referenced above all but disappeared. Music that wouldn’t have been played at any dance club, but music that many of us listened to to get warmed up – freestyle and house music like TKA, Johnny O, Stevie B, Timmy T, and the rest. The early 90s were ripe for artists who seemed far too sensitive to be singing for the radio, but nevertheless did. By the way, Laura makes fun of me all the time for my affinity for this type of sound, but hey, it is what it is. It’s a thing I did when I was young and something I enjoy thinking about and even listening to today.
Like I said, I moved to upstate New York in the latter part of 1996. The area had no idea what a nightclub was, much less what freestyle music was. In mid-1998, I moved to Atlanta, Georgia, which was worse. If you weren’t a fan of standing in bars watching college football, you were out of luck. For a guy like me who was just getting into his groove and who would have much rather attended Baruch College, a part of CUNY, life was becoming more and more disappointing. It wasn’t until August of 1998 when I delved into a long-distance relationship with Laura that I forgot all about music and going out and all that came along with those things. I became focused on graduate school and how the two of us were going to afford getting an apartment and living together, but that’s a story for another time. For now, all I ask is that you realize that there was a time when dance music and “going out” ruled supreme. It was an enormous part of many of our lives and something that those who were involved will cherish forever. And honestly, I’m aware of people who have yet to quite get past it. They still think they’re DJs and they still think they’ve got the swag they once had. I’d also like you to recognize the fact that the aforementioned scene eventually dried up. It ended. It fizzled and flaked away and as much as the younger generations would like to say it’s returning or that it never left, it’s dead. It’s sort of like me attempting to tell my parents that disco is still alive and kicking. It’s not and unfortunately, it’s never coming back.
