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I’m curled up in a ball, listening to The Cure’s Disintegration in a room full of giant hanging plants and goths wearing black Buffalo Londons. It’s a profoundly rainy March afternoon in Ridgewood, Queens, but the way the light pours in through the huge industrial windows, it could maybe be early summer. I’m at Nowadays, a nightclub that, once a month, comes alive during the day for Classic Album Sundays, which is exactly what it sounds like: enthusiasts sit in a room and listen to a beautiful album on some extraordinarily good hi-fi equipment. This Sunday, the speakers blare Robert Smith’s iconically macabre 1989 record. In the front of the room next to the turntable stands a w... Full story

26 April