The Village Voice thinks so:

In 1990, venerable downtown club matron Chi Chi Valenti wrote a poem called, appropriately enough, "Take Back the Night," mourning the end of the seedy, exciting underbelly of clubland that gave the world cultural icons like Madonna, Keith Haring, and Jean-Michel Basquiat. Nightlife, then as now, was losing out to bankers and millionaires and bottles:

Take it back from mere attitude and return it to grand gesture.

Take it back from every futures trader yearning for a new life.

Take it back from sweater consultants and out of town investors.

Return it to ruined men with no feeling for the masses, and no stomach for the shameless sell.

...the clone-like crowds come to party the only way they know how—the way they learned from watching hip-hop videos. They stand on the little booths and shake and shimmy, hoisting bottles of vodka—priced 1,000 percent over what you'd pay in a store—over their heads. As some Jay-Z song plays over the speakers, for a minute, they are Bling. They feel fabulous. And then they order another $300 round.

Thanks to Miami Nights for the link...