Carrying on in Paradise: Reflections on The Paradise Garage Reunion 2025 at Xanadu, NYC
I made it to my second Paradise Garage reunion held at Xanadu, a mammoth skating rink in Brooklyn, NY on August 31st, the Sunday before Labor Day. Every year, hundreds of disciples like me, affectionately known as Garageheads, gather and dance to the same tracks once spun by the legendary resident deejay Larry Levan who died in 1992. The diverse, mostly Black following holds the cultish allegiance one might associate with a sorority or a sports team, not a club that closed nearly 40 years ago. Then again, the Paradise Garage was not just any disco. From 1977 – 1987, the Garage was renowned for its stupendous sound system, the cavernous dance floor, and the music propelled by Levan whose spinning equally intuitive and eclectic held members spellbound through mid-morning. A lesser-known feature was its paid membership which provided admission discounts, mailed notices for live shows by Sylvester, Grace Jones or Loleatta Holloway, and a photo ID card with the bulging bicep logo. As a member, the Garage was your club, and you were a part of the Garage family. Membership bestowed an extraordinary sense of ownership that has outlived the club itself. On my first night at the Garage in the summer of 1980, as Levan played Chaka Khan’s “Clouds”, a Garage favorite, he orchestrated an in-door thunderstorm. Levan switched on air conditioner gusts and flashing lights while plastic droplets dropped from the ceiling all cued by Chaka’s plaintive forecast “Gonna rain down tears heartache and fears”. I was hooked and remained a diehard regular until the club’s last dance on September 28, 1987.
The annual reunion is organized by David Depino and Joey Llanos, surviving original Garage resident deejays. Joined by Sting International, Depino and Llanos delivered the underground and mainstream classics for which the Garage was known. Two days after the reunion, Depino granted me an interview to share his reflections upon the commemorative event he started.
An Interview With David Depino
Craig Washington: I noticed the reunion started much earlier this year, at 12 noon. Was that to accommodate our senior status?
David Depino: We’ve never done a 12-hour party and we’ve never done an afternoon party before. Normally our parties start at 8pm and go to like 4, 5 in the morning. But people would contact us and say, ‘I get on line at 8 o clock, I’m on line for 1 hour, I get inside but by 11 I’m ready to go to sleep, can you do it earlier?’
Craig: How successful was the Reunion in your view?
David: For the 1st four hours, nobody was there. I was getting frustrated. But once the crowd came it was wonderful. To me it’s not about so much about the size of the party, it’s the gathering of faces that you don’t see all year. I must have gotten a thousand messages yesterday thanking me.
Craig: The crowd is really diverse. What does that mean to you?
David: You look at the dance floor, there’s young, there’s old, there’s Black, there’s white, there’s gay, there’s straight, there’s straight females, there are gay females, there’s everything, it’s wonderful. The newer kids that were at the party this weekend were welcome. I knew there were a lot of original people there because when I turned off the music, that room sang. And everybody on that dance floor knew every word, it was wonderful. It’s like this special party at the G where everyone was invited, you know like a Fourth of July, Memorial Day, Labor Day
Craig: How long have you been doing the Reunions?
David: Larry died in 1992. In 1993, I did a one-year remembrance for Larry on his birthday at the Sound Factory bar. In 1994, I just wanted to leave Larry’s name out of it because Italian people believe when you keep calling on them when they first pass, you don’t let their souls go to heaven. So I did a couple of Paradise Garage parties and in 1998, I sort of stopped. In 2000, I was working at Vinyl with Louis Vega, sitting with a group of friends, and Mel Cheren said, “why don’t we do a PG reunion?” I said, “Mel I stopped doing them in 98, I don’t want to do it again”. In walked Joey Llanos, and he said, “what are we talking about?” I said, “Mel wants me to do a PG reunion”. Joey said, “I’m in”. I said “if Joey’s in, I’m in.” So together Joey, myself and Louis Vega did the Paradise Garage reunion at Vinyl in 2001 honoring the death of Frankie Crocker. That’s about 25 years of Joey and I doing it together. This was the 38th reunion because like I said I’ve done some on my own.
Craig: At my first Reunion 2019 and this year, I noticed that there were not as many gray-headed gay men as I would’ve expected. It dawned on me that the gay men missing didn’t make it to the Reunion because they didn’t make it.
David: Living through the AIDS crisis, the pandemic. A lot of the faces that should’ve been at the Reunion just weren’t. So there’s a moment or two at the Reunion that are sad because I look for familiar faces on the dance floor that aren’t there. There is that little something missing in the recipe. There’s a moment throughout the night of melancholy. But then they all scream and sing, and it brings me out of it and it makes me happy for all of those who are still around.”
Craig: Nowhere was the carnage of AIDS more undeniable than in the bars and clubs like the Garage.
David: I used to see certain groups of people. You would notice off to the right, a group that I would play a certain song or two for, and they would wave to me because they knew I played it for them. And I would look for them and they were gone. And then you’d look to your left, and you’d see another little group, the spot they stayed in, and they were gone. Sometimes I just wouldn’t even play the song I knew would make them jump up and run to the dance floor, because I just didn’t want to see they weren’t there. It was heavy. You gotta celebrate that you are here. You cannot feel guilty celebrating that you’re still here. You’ve gotta put one foot in front of the other and keep going
Craig: You have given so much joy to so many people for many years. What’s the reunion like for you?
David: I’m a little bit selfish. They give me the joy and happiness. I return it, I try any way to return it. I get just as much pleasure and joy out of it as people say I give them. So I’m a little selfish. I want the joy and happiness myself. It’s wonderful. The give and take. The energy from that is overwhelming.
Craig: What are you doing throughout the year between Reunions? What’s life like for you now?
David: I go to the gym every day because I want to be able to get out bed without saying “Ouch”. “Everybody goes “you go to the gym every day, where’s your muscle?” I say “Nobody wants an old man with muscles”. I said I’m not looking for muscles, I’m looking for health. I’m enjoying my life, catching up with family, watching my great niece grow up. Socializing with my friends that are still around.
Craig: I’m glad to hear you’re taking care of yourself. I hope you will continue co-organizing this marvelous event.
David: There’s next year and the year after will be the 50th anniversary of the Garage’s opening. I’m not sure if that’s gonna be it for me, but even if it is the end for me, Joey will continue. They’re all younger than me.
I always say that “I’m ready to go, I’m ready to go”, a day or two after, because I’m exhausted, then the rest of the year I’m full of energy again and I’m like “c’mon let’s go”.
The Paradise Garage reunion honors more than the revered funhouse of our bygone youth. It is an AIDS memorial of another fashion, where reflection is not conducted through silence and somber readings. The dead are remembered on a festive holiday where music summons spirit and flesh to make pleasurable use of fleeting time.” The reunion is an invention of queer elder resilience and improvisation. It is a phenomenon that merits the attention of anthropologists, historians, writers and filmmakers. Like the club it was purposed to memorialize, it restores joy and memory across generations and dares us to consider the possibilities of an imperfect paradise. It gives proof that getting old is worth surviving.
