This venue is closed.
The city's latest temple of exclusion has easy glamour and palpable energy. Maybe it's because the music is grittier than the Top 40 hash so popular with glossy Hollywood. Or the New York crowd—breezy socialites and fashion eccentrics as fizzy as their drinks. The main floor, reminiscent of a fanciful Victorian boudoir, has a lustrous mahogany bar, a jungle of leafy plants, clubby circular banquettes, sky-blue ceilings, dripping chandeliers, and a stage for live performances. Staircases on either end lead to the lower level, modern and jazzy (think fusion-era Miles Davis) with its large dance floor, brash artwork, and colorfully backlit bar. The club, of course, was once Nell's, and so far NA conjures that legendary nightspot's joie de vivre: A members-only policy (it helps if you're a friend of co-owner and club namesake Noel Ashman or investors like Damon Dash and Chris Noth) certainly hasn't deterred the clamorous and glamorous from lining down the block.
Picnics with a view, roller-skating nostalgia, and a party for gay headbangers.