It’s late on a recent night out in Brooklyn, and I’m at an after-party in a large, empty space on Jefferson Avenue. The dance floor begins to fill up around six A.M. People snort drugs off their office keys and dance like it’s midnight under a shimmering disco ball. A man wearing a papal mitre smiles at me, his eyeliner a mess of smudged kohl. “What time does this end?,” I ask a man in a cowboy hat. “Who knows?” he says with a shrug. It would keep going until midday.
The party was organized by Aftermoth, a secretive “creative collective,” as they call themselves on Instagram, that throws events across the city. If you had to pinpoint the beating heart of New York nightlife right now, Aftermoth, and other traveling party collectives, would be it.
