Dancing on Poe's Grave

Dancing on Poe's Grave

Edgar Allan Poe may walk this earth "nevermore," but that doesn't mean you can't dance and drink the night away in his honor.

The Raven, a new subterranean nightclub in the dizzying Meatpacking district, is the place to get your Poe on. The venue's name, for you literary dunces, is a nod to the author's most famous poem—a harrowing account of a lonely man's maddening encounter with that ominous bird of yore. The club's aethetic, like the poem itself, is decidedly macabre: black everywhere, dim lighting, velvety Victorian wallpaper, pleated leather couches (the kind you'd imagine in Freud's office), exposed brick. The bar is right in front of a cleared space for dancing, but you could easily slip into any of the seating nooks once a cocktail is procured. It's like a haunted London brothel. A sexy kind of haunted. The most charming detail: A large hanging piece of embroidery that reads "Fuck You Sunrise." (A very noble sentiment, if you ask me.) The most chilling: A sign that reads "How to disappear in New York without a trace." Considering the mysterious circumstances surrounding Poe's death, his ghost would probably be the best source for such information (after a night of drinks, you just might get a visit). 

When your head clears the morning after your first visit, I'm betting the tale of your night won't begin with "Once upon a midnight dreary..." 

>>The Raven, 55 Gansevoort St., 888.883.6054