Tracks NYC was my first taste of a real NYC club. As a teenager in the early-mid 1980s there was also a Tracks in Denver, Colorado where I grew up (located down by the railroad tracks) and with a fake I.D. I used to go. It was all the rage for Denver's elite, and I saw Nina Hagen and Thelma Houston in concert there. The DJs used to spin Grace Jones heavily as well. But nothing could have prepared me for Tracks NYC, which had the most amazing music I had ever heard (up to that time in my life anyway). My friend Eric, who had moved to NYC from Denver just months before me, dragged me there and to my shock they did not ask for ID (I was still under 21) and it was only $5. We did no drugs and did not drink, and we yet got the most AMAZING natural high off the music - I was compelled to stay until almost closing each time I went! Upstairs there was a lounge and smaller dance room, where the many now-extinct vogueing Houses, fresh from the balls, would hold court and conduct downright brutal vogueing and runway competitions, reading each other and whipping their bodies around like supermodel fashion icons on speed. I could only watch, wide-eyed.
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