Two years ago, Yang Gao and Richie Romero watched over a very noisy and very expensive construction project: digging, downstairs, below, under the floor of an old building on West 41st Street, just off Times Square.
Mr. Gao, an entrepreneur, and Mr. Romero, a nightlife agent, were setting up Nebula, a giant dance club. By shooting into the rock, the ceilings could be so much higher – 27 feet above the dance floor.
Known in the tabloids as a “club king,” Mr. Romero had clear ideas about what Nebula should and shouldn’t be. Most importantly, it had to be the kind of place where people would actually dance, rather than lazing around on benches all night.
That’s how it used to be when he entered Manhattan from Queens as a teenager, eager to show off his moves in Tunnel, Palladium and Club USA. Everyone then took to the floor. You mixed. You sweated. You have immersed yourself in it. At age 18, Mr. Romero worked as a party promoter at Limelight. He was armed with a pager and a list of over 2,000 names and numbers. If your name was on the list, Richie would wave you in.
“Manhattan was the king of the world back then,” said Mr. Romero, 46. “The stages were bigger than the DJs. Every DJ wanted to play them.”
He sat on Nebula’s balcony outside office hours. The place was empty and quiet. He recalled an early success he had when he took Monday night’s challenge at the China Club and just packed things up.
“I was 19 years old,” he said. “I was so excited. I thought I was a big contender.”
Manhattan may still be the epicenter of finance and media, but the clubbing scene has moved elsewhere – Miami, Berlin, Las Vegas, even Scottsdale, Ariz. Today, New York is “the little stepsister,” Romero lamented. And while Marquee is doing well on Tenth Avenue, the energy of New York’s nightlife has moved to Brooklyn.
With Nebula, Mr. Romero and Mr. Gao to bring Manhattan back to its glory days. Mr Gao said he has plowed some $12 million into the project, a huge gamble to take in the midst of a pandemic, with nightlife on lockdown.
“Dealing with the uncertainty of it all just freaked me out,” said Mr. Romero.
With 10,000 square feet spread over three levels, Nebula was the largest new nightclub in the city when it opened last September. The main dance floor is 5,000 square feet. A D&B sound system pumps out the beats. Six LED projection screens descend from the ceiling to envelop guests in trance-like images.
The multimedia aspect has appealed to the tech crowd. “Every NFT firm wants to come here and do something,” said Mr. Romero.
Nebula has also become a go-to place for newly minted 13-year-olds: “Funny,” he added. “We are now the king of the bar mitzvah.”
The private events, which take place on weeknights, are a lucrative sideline to the main attraction: weekend dance parties with top DJs from around the world, including Jamie Jones, Artbat and Eric Prydz, all of whom will be performing in Nebula this month. †
With New York clubs becoming more lounge-like in recent years, with a focus on bottle service for high rollers who shell out $10,000 to $20,000 for a private table, Nebula is decidedly old-fashioned.
†I want to capture the people who are artistic, who are able to go into the club and appreciate the music,” said Mr. Gao, the owner of Nebula.
Mr. Gao, 42, is new to the nightlife industry. A classically trained oboist who once played in the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra† he said he had a hand in several businesses, including a wine shop in Astoria and party boats in East River† About five years ago, he started looking for club space in Manhattan, insisting that the ceiling height should be at least 21 feet. After singing the lease at the end of 2018, he sought out Mr. Romero.
Nebula’s location has a long history in club land. It was previously Saci, Show and Arena. Most recently, it housed Circle, a Korean-American spot that defined nightlife for a generation of New York’s Asian and Asian-American communities until it closed in 2018. Mr. Romero promoted parties in all those locations except Circle. In recent years, he drifted out of the nightlife and went to fast-paced restaurants, where he opened a pizza chain, Zazzy’s, but was lured back by Mr. gao.
“I believe in good bones. And this room always had good bones,” said Mr. Romero, speaking at 200 beats per minute. “Sit down. Seen the vision. Came in here. We started putting everything together and making Nebula Nebula.”
Business flourished in the short period between opening and Omicron, Mr. Romero. Since then, supply chain problems have led to a shortage of Don Julio 1942, the club’s most popular tequila. The benches intended for the edges of the large dance floor only arrived last week.
For those wary of big crowds, Mr. Gao private rooms in the basement, each with its own sound system, lighting and bathroom. Despite reports of upcoming Covid-19 waves, he said he was optimistic.
“I know people want to get out,” said Mr. gao. “People long for human interactions. Then I decided that this sector is not going away.”
On a recent Tuesday at 12:30 PM, the Nebula dance floor was nearly packed. As images flashed on the LED screens, several hundred clubbers danced to Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’. The event was Tuesday Baby Tuesday, an evening reserved for people who work in nightclubs.
“It’s an industry night,” said Jonas Young-Borra, 37, a former male model who described herself as the “left hand, right hand” to Mr. Romero, over the music. “You get people from other clubs who can’t go out on the weekend, plus the 21 and up crowd.”
Mr Romero, who was watching the action on the dance floor, said this was a little slow for a Tuesday given the crowd. He promised a bigger turnout the following week, if 50 Cent would perform. But after two years of social isolation, it was incredible to see hundreds of bodies so close together, with no masks or detectable phobias. Hostesses brought champagne bottles with sparklers to the VIP area.
New York has changed since Mr. Romero’s Limelight childhood, but he was determined that some things wouldn’t change.
“It’s important,” he said, “that we keep Manhattan thriving.”
