I want to weigh in on the Limelight Marketplace since everyone is chatting about it. Many people are saddened. Many see this as the end of the world or evidence that the club scene is dead. I completely disagree. The fun was drained from the space well over a decade ago. Over the years when I drove by it on my way to some fabulous place or exciting rendezvous my mind would naturally wander to the heyday. I could see smiley faces or I would reminisce about some incredible event or happening, but the cab sped by and the memories became shadows and fog. Spaces really don’t get tired. The energies and abilities of the people who run them, breathe life into them, runs out. They move on to a better space, newer spaces or different endeavors. In the case of the Limelight, many were ripped from it, many passed, some escaped. The entrepreneurs who took over the joint after the Limelight brand had been extinguished never really understood the building or how to make it work.

David Marvisi, who had great success with Spa and the mega club Exit, tanked completely after a multi-million dollar renovation. He called it Estate but it was a big mistake and the financial burden took the wind out of his sails and the taste for nightlife out of his heart. The Lyons Group, out of Boston, followed and failed in the first 10 minutes of operation. They lingered for awhile but never captured the hearts, minds or loot of the Manhattan club scene. Lines of poorly dressed, young bridge and tunnel patrons lined up outside and signaled to all that passed to keep driving by. Neither group understood the market or how to make the room work.

Some will snidely interject that they ran it clean and that, under Peter Gatien, the club was fueled by drugs, drugs, more drugs and great music. It certainly seems that way looking back, but I argue there was a time before the assholes ran the asylum. A time when Limelight was simply amazing. That period before the techno was inescapably paired with pills was brilliant. It was before Michael Alig was turned to the dark side and I was programming, with much help from my friends.

The building—which has been a church, a place for addicts to find help—is now a shopping mall and that’s alright by me. With rent reportedly at 100k per month it could be nothing more. The various retailers can share in this rent comfortably. A long time ago I heard an idea to build a huge hotel/condominium above the landmark building. The old church would serve as a lobby and maybe house a couple of restaurants, maybe even a lounge. This still could happen in some future world when the roads are paved with yellow bricks. I asked Michael Alig, who sits upstate awaiting release into this tame new world, what he thought of the conversion to retail and his fondest Limelight memory.

“I mean, I suppose the conversion of one of the city's most notorious and decadent nightspots into a Wal-Mart is a fairly accurate, if depressing sign of the times. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but I don’t think it has much hope to survive as the building itself is cursed. What else would you expect from a space with the spookily ominous address of 66 6th avenue?”

A fond memory of the place?

"Actually a really cool memory, I think, is of Charlie. Charlie was a really quiet, middle-aged Asian man who came to Disco 2000 every Wednesday wearing a three-piece suit and carrying a briefcase. He’d go into the ladies room and change into a flimsy yellow see-through negligee then stuff the suit into his briefcase, buy a drink, climb up onto one of the club’s huge speaker boxes and go-go dance to the music. Nobody knew where Charlie came from or what he did for a living and nobody cared. The club was like some gigantic fantasy bubble. Inside the bubble you could be whatever you wanted to be and for 6 hours every Wednesday night surrounded by thousands of others who wouldn’t judge or label him. This guy seemed like the happiest man on the planet.”

Michael will eventually get out and it is inevitable that he and I will take a stroll through the mall. I can only wonder if that exact time will be leaked through Twitter and Facebook and iPhone and BBM and whatever other tech-o marvel du-jour. I wonder if thousands of ghosts of parties past will descend from the far away places, hinterlands and swell places that they now dwell in for one last “outlaw” party? Will Astro, and James and Aphro and Willyem and Keoki and Waltpaper and Sacred Boy rummage through their closets and find the look? Will Charlie stuff the suitcase with his three piece and buy a negligee from a Limelight Market vendor and dance upon a display case? Will the mall’s muzak be just perfect?