Best Of :: Bars & Clubs
When Hollywood Alley debuted in 1988, bands didn't exactly beat a path to its door.
Back in those days, the epicenter of the local music scene was undoubtedly Mill Avenue and such venues as Long Wong's and Chuy's, and not some pissant bar and grill off the beaten path in Mesa. In fact, owner Ross Wincek didn't start booking bands until months after he opened.
More than 20 years later, it's hard imagining a Valley without Hollywood Alley, as it's become a mainstay of the music scene while other establishments have come and gone. It's no surprise, considering the place has all the ingredients that make any rock club great: dim lighting, kitschy décor, black leather booths, and an ample stage that's hosted shows almost every night of the week for the past two decades.
Plenty of nationally known artists have performed at the Alley, running the gamut from spoken word/art rock chanteuse Lydia Lunch to psychedelic indie rock band The Apples in Stereo. (Public Enemy even stopped by for an impromptu show one evening in 2007 after getting booted from the Marquee Theatre). More importantly, however, the joint has served as a launching pad and stomping ground for some of the biggest bands in Valley history.
The old-school punkers of both the Sun City Girls and Beats the Hell Out of Me were regulars way back when, as were such members of the '90s Mill Avenue movement as The Refreshments, Gin Blossoms, and Dead Hot Workshop. Local legends like Jimmy Eat World and Authority Zero used to rattle the roof constantly before graduating to more mainstream concert halls. The modern-day tastemakers of Back Ted N-Ted, What Laura Says, and The Love Me Nots also regularly include the Alley in their gig schedules.
In addition to its myriad musical talent, another draw has been the extended family atmosphere provided by the three generations of the Wincek clan working behind the scene. Famished patrons and starving rockers alike have feasted on the delicious homemade recipes of Ross' grandmother Rachel and his late mother, Lucy, from the kitchen. Meanwhile, 67-year-old paterfamilias Roger helps make the place spotless after the last drunk has ambled out the front door.
Thanks to the Winceks' untiring dedication, you can undoubtedly look forward to another 20 years of hanging out at the Alley.
How is it that we've scraped this town, year after year, searching for drinking digs without ever coming across this little gem? The Ice House Tavern is really kind of a messed-up idea — but in a creepy, fantastic way. Anyone who grew up in Phoenix probably skated at Arcadia Ice Arena at least once in his or her life. Little did we know as fumbling, tumbling idiots on the rink that drunks were watching us the entire time. Yep, there's a bar connected to the rink where boozers can slurp their cocktails and peer through windows to the rink while wobbly skaters slide around on the ice. In 2009, local hipsters latched onto this hole in the wall and celebrated its slightly seedy — definitely cuckoo — novelty.
It's a bit of a haul for most Phoenicians — just over the Pinal County line south of Queen Creek — but a trip to San Tan Flat on a Saturday night is a real treat. Live music from a rollicking country band, a nice wide dance floor, and great food give this place an overall excellent atmosphere, but it's the wood-burning fire pits that really set the stage for a special night. Grab some wood off the pile and toss it on the coals, then buy some marshmallows from behind the bar. Before you know it, you'll be living the saloon's slogan: "All the fun of camping out, without having to sleep on the ground."
We love the Autostrada panini. And we love the smoked salmon bruschetta. And Postino Central's wine list is not only imaginative but always features several of our favorite libations. But what we really love most about this new-ish cafe (located in the old Katz's Deli building on North Central) is that seating on the patio lets us watch three entirely different slices of life, all at once. We can ogle the bar crowd that's hanging out just beyond the patio (where it's pretty easy to strike up a conversation with like-minded wine lovers at the next table), so our desire to watch drunk people hooking up is sated. Beyond that, the dining room is always filled with people having klatch-y catch-up meetings and clandestine conferences (last time we were there, we witnessed a mother-daughter donnybrook having to do with short skirts and withheld tuitions — scandalous!). And Postino's wide, single-pane picture window offers views of the street beyond the dining room. We can even see, from way back on the patio, the comings and goings at the Circle K across the street — which is a lot more interesting than you'd imagine. We're lurkers at heart, and we see a lot more than crusty bread and wine bottles when we hang at Postino Central.
We've always wondered: Where do bars and clubs go when they die (i.e., close)? Whisked away to the nightspot great beyond after falling to a wrecking ball, perhaps, never to return (like Tempe's Long Wong's)? Or maybe reincarnation into a completely new identity is in order, like when the old Mason Jar became gay dive Velocity 2303. In the case of The Sail Inn in Tempe, the legendary hippie hangout was revived, Lazarus-style, in its original location by owner Gina Lombardi. The original version of the Sail closed after it was bought out by real estate developers in late 2005, ultimately becoming the ill-conceived danceteria Trax, which fizzled out after 18 months. Fortunately, Lombardi swept in and resurrected her old stomping grounds earlier this year, upgrading the décor in the process. And though its look may have changed, Lombardi's continuing the old habit of booking a wide variety of musicians — ranging from the jam-rockers of Xtra Ticket and The Noodles to burgeoning indie acts like Black Carl — nearly every night since re-opening. It couldn't have happened at a better time, too, as The Sail Inn is just about the only dedicated music venue in downtown Tempe, an area once renowned for its live bands. Thanks, Gina.
Since debuting in January, Cream Stereo Lounge has endured a significant amount of both love and hate, much like any new nightspot. Its supporters easily gush about its mix of European and Las Vegas-style touches, including swimsuit-clad models engaging in burlesque-like bathtub shows. The haters, on the other side of the coin, have groused about alleged rude service, the club's minuscule size, and overpriced covers. But over the past few months, the grumblings have quieted down and the place is more popular than ever. One factor in its success has been the selection of superstar DJs that have been booked to spin here. The list is quite impressive, including Lee Burridge, Paul Oakenfold, George Acosta, and Paul van Dyk, just to name a few. Like the saying goes, the Cream rises to the top.