Last Wednesday night, a gang of louche scenesters landed at Above Allen—the airy rooftop bar of megalith hotel Thompson LES. Contemplating a shimmering skyline, the new shindig’s promoter proclaimed an end to a reign of antiseptic downtown nightlife.

“There hasn’t been a recession in 10 years,” techno head Bakey B gushed in his Desi accent. “Now people be losing jobs, families be breaking up, the only outlet will be parties."

Neil Aline, the bald Euro DJ, dropped Sister Sledge and Bakey busted into some dance moves. Nodding frenetically he added, “I want to see some ODs. I really do!”

So what’s going to be the new drug for the new depression? Bakey scratched his neck tattoo thoughtfully for a moment before a Eureka burst forth: “Cocaine!”

I exhaled a stream of cigarette smoke silently and watched him fidget in his leather Nikes. “And X, that’s what I’m talking about. All the rich amazing people love that shit.” A plaid shirtwearing owlish hipster strode up looking for a drink ticket. He was shown empty palms and a nervous smile instead.

Bakey didn’t see any irony in preaching his late ’70s lounge-lizard gospel 18 floors above Houston Street—and the crowd seemed fine with it too. Two Asian twentysomethings in cocktail dresses laughingly handed a stack of bills to a dude in a snappy blue yachtsman. I shared a smoke with oliveskinned, curly-haired fashion designer Bahar Shaphar who had come in from South Brooklyn. Leaning into one of the plush red couches and straightening her gartered tights, she told me what brought her across the river: “It’s a good middle ground, I find myself on this corner a lot. It’s like a vortex in my dimension.” She went on, the panoramic view inspiring her to a Brooklyn socialite’s map of the Island. “You go east you go arty, you go south you go hipster, you go west—fashion, up is work.There’s nothing really here though.”

Bakey danced over, grabbed Shaphar in his arms and dipped her. He planted a camped up smooch her on the lips. Then, turning to me, he said, “This thing will be successful if it kills me.”