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When this cavernous, multi-level club opened in 2004, it was billed as the antithesis of the warehouse space's former tenant Twilo; this was going to be a spiritual dance palace where you could open your chakras organically (i.e., without pharmacological aid). A noble goal, perhaps, but the pretenses have since been abandoned for a more realistic formula: Loud Music + Lots of Space = Loads of Fun. Stairwells and a balcony overlooking the dance floor create dark kissy corners, while in the open terrain, big beats boom to a non-stop light show including large video-art projections. In the drinking room, a mélange line up at the blue-lit bar while Top 40 hip-hop pops. When the club pulls in marquee house D.J.s like Danny Tenaglia or Judge Jules, there's plenty of skin on display—even if said skin looks in need of more yoga and less liquor. — Andrew Paine Bradbury

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