Undersea Cave, Without Water

Posted: October 10, 1999

There's no sign, and no line. Just a small black awning that indicates the entrance of Fluid, atop the Latest Dish restaurant on Fourth Street near South Street.

On Thursday nights from 10 o'clock on, it's the "Platinum" party attended by young heads - a crowd of slackers and ravers in their early 20s, wearing baggy khakis and cargo pants, T-shirts and tank tops, and baseball caps and hooded sweatshirts. Plus urban grungers and the fashion plates (including women in go-go dresses, outlandish fur coats and feather boas) from South Street.

"It's the best drum-and-bass in the city," says resident DJ Diesel Boy, unleashing ultrathick beats and sinister bass lines.

Fluid's space is like the name - smooth curves and swirling shapes, a sleek, eerie underwater cave without the water. Cobalt-blue mosaic tiles line the walls and bar top, and funky blown-glass lamps dangle over the drinkers like oozing stalactites. Unisex bathrooms glisten with slivers of mirror on the walls and floors. In a dark room behind the DJ booth, couples make out.

"I need to hear some noise," MC Dub2 yells, riling up the sweaty crowd. The call-and-response produces hoots and yelps. Diesel breaks into Future Cut's "Whiplash," a machine-gun barrage of beats that packs the floor.

Mondays are hip-hop nights. Wednesdays have a cosmopolitan flavor, attracting snazzy dressers and drinkers. House music is played Fridays and Saturdays. "Spanish Fly," a Latin House party, will begin on Tuesdays.

"There's a lot of style and prestige in this room," says waitress-model Candice Lambert, 22, in a leopard-skin cowboy hat, well-worn corduroy pants, and a bustier-style top.

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