- DJs and dancers of a bygone era gather to celebrate the storied club's 41st anniversary.
- On a sweaty evening in the dog days of a never-ending summer, a living tribute to late-'70s New York disco popped up in the heart of Bushwick. Approaching Elsewhere, the three-story venue that played host to the annual Paradise Garage reunion, you could hear warm, bassy house music from blocks away. That, coupled with a woman selling homemade T-shirts emblazoned with Paradise Garage's iconic logo out of her van, served as a kind of homing beacon to partygoers of a bygone era. And home in they did: the venue was packed by 8 PM, unusual for an event going until 4 AM. But this was no usual party. The crowd was here to celebrate the legendary New York venue's 41st anniversary and to pay homage to its best-known resident, the late Larry Levan.
The event featured just two DJs: Joey Llanos and David DePino, who have spearheaded the reunion parties in the past five years. Both men studied under Levan and performed regularly at Paradise Garage in its heyday. At Elsewhere, they went back-to-back all night, seamlessly swapping out disco hits for slower soul, with Llanos leaning towards dark, dubby funk (a signature style popularized by Levan) and DePino preferring warmer disco tunes. This was an old-school night through and through, with most tracks coming from a large CD binder filled with nothing but the hits: George Benson's "Give Me The Night," Jackie Moore's "This Time Baby" and deep cuts like David Joseph's "You Can't Hide (Your Love From Me)." The soundsystem was impressively adept at handling Llanos and DePino's mixing style, which favored using the EQs to build tension before blasting the bass all the way up during a chorus or soulful refrain.
Beyond the musical nostalgia, the event stood out because of the crowd's overwhelming positivity. Though the average age was considerably older than the standard Elsewhere audience, the dance floor was more alive than I had ever seen it. Illuminated by the house lights, which filled the main hall with dayglo brightness, dancers filled every inch of the venue's three levels, dancing like it might be the last time they hear tunes such as Pleasure's "Take A Chance" or Colonel Abrams' "Music Is The Answer." Almost every track was met with unbridled enthusiasm—deafening cheers, gym whistles, tambourines and hand drums.
More than just a reunion for DePino and Llanos, the party was a long-awaited reunion for a crowd that started partying almost a half-century ago. It was a space to reconnect and make new memories. I heard partygoers introducing old friends to their spouses, remarking that they hadn't seen each other since "the last reunion." There were spontaneous drum circles, and even more spontaneous embraces. Rather than mourning the loss of Levan and the many other legendary DJs who played the club before it closed in 1987, everyone used the dance floor to, once again, worship at the altar of Levan's never-ending "Saturday Mass."
Listen to our Spotify playlist of Paradise Garage classics.
Photo credit /
Luis Nieto Dickens
Beyond the musical nostalgia, the event stood out because of the crowd's overwhelming positivity. Though the average age was considerably older than the standard Elsewhere audience, the dance floor was more alive than I had ever seen it. Illuminated by the house lights, which filled the main hall with dayglo brightness, dancers filled every inch of the venue's three levels, dancing like it might be the last time they hear tunes such as Pleasure's "Take A Chance" or Colonel Abrams' "Music Is The Answer." Almost every track was met with unbridled enthusiasm—deafening cheers, gym whistles, tambourines and hand drums. More than just a reunion for DePino and Llanos, the party was a long-awaited reunion for a crowd that started partying almost a half-century ago. It was a space to reconnect and make new memories. I heard partygoers introducing old friends to their spouses, remarking that they hadn't seen each other since "the last reunion." There were spontaneous drum circles, and even more spontaneous embraces. Rather than mourning the loss of Levan and the many other legendary DJs who played the club before it closed in 1987, everyone used the dance floor to, once again, worship at the altar of Levan's never-ending "Saturday Mass." Listen to our Spotify playlist of Paradise Garage classics. Photo credit / Luis Nieto Dickens