Nightlife

There’s a lot of diversity among the Valley’s concert venues: large-scale clubs, huge stadiums, outdoor amphitheaters, ample dive bars, and even a church rec room. But there are few like The Underground at The Nile Theater, likely the closest thing to a CBGB or Club 82 as Phoenix has ever had. The Nile itself has a history of holding raucous punk and metal shows, and The Underground takes those same madcap events and drops the square footage by a country mile. With exposed pipes and bare concrete floors, The Underground is more akin to a bomb shelter or a fetish dungeon than most rock clubs. But that slightly oppressive, moderately intimidating vibe works wonders, and the best artists are able to fill the space with noise and an air of creative confrontation. It’s easy to get lost in the Underground — not, like, physically — forgoing the inherent claustrophobia for primal levels of camaraderie and moshing. Just remember to always stretch and hydrate before any Underground show.

You want to hate Gracie’s Tax Bar, a relatively new hangout that for whatever reason looks and feels like an old dive bar, what with its cheap drinks, cheese curds, and chipped-brick exterior. But then, you hear the music. Bar owner Grace Perry has curated a jukebox with something for everyone, touching on classics from the past five or six decades. The broad appeal of its CD collection is impressive. The Beach Boys, Fleetwood Mac, Curtis Mayfield, Television, The Strokes, Prince, Wu-Tang Clan — few genres are ignored. Plus, it’s a great deal. For $1, you get three plays, while $5 gets you 20 songs.

Park Central’s crown jewel, Kobalt, is the type of place that brings in a karaoke crowd without even trying. Why? Its many features. This welcoming establishment offers karaoke four days a week — 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. Tuesday, Saturday, and Sunday, plus 7 p.m. to midnight on a seasonal basis. And there’s no standing by your table at this place. Kobalt karaoke offers a stage, lights, some sort of waterfall backdrop, and quite the songbook. Picks include everything from Disney hits to country classics, legends of rock, one-hit wonders, ’80s smash hits, and pop divas. And we did say Kobalt has many features — plural. The Park Central gay bar also has an attentive staff, great parking, and quick light rail access, and the place is BYOF (bring your own food).

Bliss / reBAR is the ultimate after-work go-to and late-night hangout, complete with an expansive wraparound patio — ideal for tank-top season. There’s liquor, a big dining room and bar, and the Moonlight Menu from 10 p.m. to midnight. And if the amazing crowd and unisex restrooms aren’t proof enough this is a fantastic gay bar, Bliss / reBAR also hosts Sunday events like Chillaxin Sunday Phunday with a live DJ, Karaoke Kraziness, weekend Champagne brunch, and sometimes, BLUSH — better known as the drag brunch experience. There are also daily specials like all-day happy hour on Monday, and 20-percent-off Wednesdays. But mostly, this downtown nightlife spot has a proud and supportive atmosphere that is welcoming to everyone.

Around since 1984, Charlie’s Phoenix has been the kind of inclusive nightclub that has become a go-to for members of the LGBTQ community — and everyone else for that matter. The somewhat country-themed nightclub is known for its ever-fresh rotation of nightly events, like Undie Mondays, Claudia B’s Karaoke Cabaret on Tuesdays, Pipin’ Hot Thursdays, and while the weather is hot, Banana Hammock Sundays. There are also free dance lessons, celebrity drag shows, DJs, dance nights, and so much more. Charlie’s attractions include the light rail station across the street, and the always dependable Taqueria Los Yaquis taco stand outside on Thursday through Sunday evenings.

Every Friday at 10:30 p.m., you can stop by BS West for its Elements drag show to watch a handful of beautiful queens in elaborate costumes strut their stuff to the likes of Beyoncé, Ariana Grande, Miley Cyrus, and Rihanna. The heels and the kicks are both probably higher than you could ever go, making Elements one of the most popular drag shows in the Valley. The regularly featured queens include Mya McKenzie, Eva Angelica Stratton, Desiree Demornay, Adriana Galliano, and Savannah Stevens, all of whom have won pageants across the country or in the Valley. The drinks are cheap and the staff are friendly, though you may want to reserve a table if you plan to see the show.

This Melrose District hangout is an LGBTQ nightlife spot, as well as an ultra-welcoming neighborhood bar offering cold beers, well-mixed cocktails, games, dancing, and an overall good vibe. Boycott Bar features some solid events, including Frugal Fridays, Matchmaking Saturdays with rotating DJs, and karaoke on Sunday nights. Patrons can also expect drink specials, pool tables, VIP areas, drag shows, Latin dance nights, and way more. Neighboring other nightspots along the Melrose Curve, including Stacy’s @ Melrose and Thunderbird Lounge, Boycott Bar can be part of your bar-hopping route, or easily can stand alone as where you’ll be posted for the entirety of the night.

Novel ideas are hard to come by in a local music scene where repetition and imitation are the norm. One of the exceptions is the annual Vanishing Show, a unique live music experience unlike your typical bar gig, concert, or festival. The DIY music event put on by DJ and community organizer A Claire Slattery is a mobile party and movable indie rock feast that roams Tempe’s Maple-Ash-Farmer-Wilson neighborhood one night every spring since 2015. Here’s the setup: Slattery will post a starting location online (typically a house) where attendees can gather. A local band will perform a 20- to 30-minute set; then, the next location is announced just before they wrap up. The crowd then “vanishes” and heads over to the new spot by cycling or walking to catch the next band. Operating on a shoestring budget with nary a permit, the Vanishing Show and its audiences often play a cat-and-mouse game with Tempe cops, who have shut down the event a few times in the past after noise complaints. Their party-pooping isn’t going to stop Slattery, who’s already planning next year’s Vanishing Show.

Back in July, things were looking mighty grim for The Lunchbox after owner Danny Levie announced he was pulling the plug on the scrappy underground music venue. The news caused shock and sorrow among patrons of boundary-pushing shows. Weeks later, fate, and some sympathetic fans of the venue, intervened. Local experimental electronic musician and audio engineer Scot McKenzie and a few friends stepped in to help out The Lunchbox during its hour of need. They not only gave the ailing venue an injection of much-needed cash, which gave it a reprieve from its impending death sentence, they installed a new sound system. Plus, McKenzie announced plans to bring Der Bunker Teknobar, an experimental electronica music night he promotes, to The Lunchbox in the near future. It should fit in nicely with the sort of gigs The Lunchbox has done in the past and will continue to do in the future, thanks to McKenzie and his pals.

If your Uber driver isn’t familiar with downtown music venues, chances are it’s going to be difficult for him to find Valley Bar. The entrance is in an alley, which gives the establishment a speakeasy vibe. There is a sense of the unknown as you walk down the stairs and head inside, so don’t be surprised if your driver raises an eyebrow of concern like an overprotective parent. But any sense of danger washes away once you enter the intimate venue, which is the perfect place to attend an acoustic show by an up-and-coming indie artist or a comedy show.

Whether you’re feeling like smoking some weed with Machine Gun Kelly, watching the world burn with Ilana Glazer, or reliving some ’80s bops at a Stranger Things-themed party, you can do it all at The Van Buren. The venue’s expansive calendar has concerts slated from the likes of Thievery Corporation, Chvrches, and Common, but the space is also used for performances by comedians and storytellers, and for music nights with themes as broad as Miami or ’90s Night. The 1,800-capacity concert hall makes great use of what used to be an auto dealership, with enough bar space that you won’t spend the entire concert waiting for a drink, and enough standing room that you won’t be close enough to smell your fellow concertgoers’ hair. On a busy night, the line may wrap around outside, but security is quick and efficient, and they’ll have you inside with a drink or a jackfruit slider in your hand in a matter of minutes.

Sure, it may be a struggle to find parking if you’re heading in from the ‘burbs, but for Phoenicians living in downtown and midtown, there’s no better place for a massive concert than Talking Stick Resort Arena. Whether you’re there for Travis Scott’s mind-blowing ASTROWORLD Tour or a fantastic evening with Paul McCartney, the arena that forms the backbone of a downtown sports and entertainment complex along with Chase Field is just a rideshare or (even better, since the station is right next to the entrance) a light rail ride away. Now, if only we could get people to show up for basketball games.

The Trunk Space stands apart from every other music venue in the Valley. First, the DIY spot is purely a nonprofit venture run by volunteers, overseen by a seven-person board, and largely features shows by local indie promoters. It’s also located on the grounds of a historic house of worship (specifically, Grace Lutheran Church) whose staff and clergy are cool enough to let it do its own thing. And at The Trunk Space, that thing is usually a bit unusual. Since debuting in 2004, the venue has fostered the sort of outsider art, experimental performances, noise artistry, and musical oddities that can’t be seen elsewhere. “We enjoy things that are definitely strange and outsider,” says Trunk Space co-founder Steph Carrico. “There are plenty of places to play if you’re a rock band, but not that many places to play if you tape contact mics onto a table and drag it around on a floor.” In addition to all the weirdness, the Trunk Space also hosts gigs by local and touring indie acts on the regular. In an age when DIY venues frequently go defunct, the Trunk Space has survived for 15-plus years. Here’s hoping it sticks around for decades to come.

The building that now houses The Rebel Lounge has been a vital piece of Phoenix’s punk and metal scene since 1979 — that’s 40 years of building a community based on blunt-force, pissed-off music. Then known as the Mason Jar, this small club ushered in a wave of punk and metal bands that not only inspired a whole network of alternative subgenres, but helped forge an entire lifestyle. In 2015, the Mason Jar was taken over by Psyko Steve Presents and renamed The Rebel Lounge. Subsequently, this change in power has only enriched the venue’s reputation of being a hub and inherent champion of a scene that reaches far beyond just heavy music. Remember: Punk is a lifestyle. There are few places in the Phoenix area that have established themselves as a heavy-music safe house the way The Rebel Lounge has — and even fewer with such an impressive monthly calendar.

This historic venue has seen generations of musicians pass over its circular stage, and if you have attended a show at Celebrity Theatre, you know how intimate a 2,650-seat venue can feel when the stage is in the center of the room. There is something about a theater in the round that is especially conducive to a hip-hop show. This is a feature mostly afforded to rap artists who are fortunate enough to fill stadium-size venues, because most clubs and smaller venues have the stage situated at the end of the floor. The freedom for the performer of having a 360-degree vantage point allows for innumerable unique moments they can share with the audience.

Tribute acts and casinos go together like buffets and blackjack, or retirees and slot machines. Just look at Sin City, where a wide variety of tribute acts and artists perform each week, or, on a more local level, Casino Arizona in Scottsdale. The sincerest form of flattery is served up regularly inside its showroom, courtesy of the array of tribute bands rolling through for two-night stints almost every weekend. The selection is largely mock ‘n’ roll bands like Metallica mimics Masters of Puppets, the grunge gurus of Fooz Fighters, or G N’ R tribute Paradise City, but acts paying homage to Selena and Elvis (natch) are occasionally featured. Best of all, tickets typically top out at $17.50 (before processing fees), allowing you plenty of leftover cash to order a few rounds. Who knows? After enough cocktails, you might just think that’s actually a Use Your Illusion-era Axl Rose gyrating onstage like a bandana-clad sleazoid dervish while howling out lyrics. Welcome to the jungle, baby.

Music writers get an exorbitant amount of emails about cleverly named, small, independent bands, filled with hyperbolic reasons explaining why the group’s album should be the next thing they listen to. Most publications will regurgitate those releases as clickbait, making their readers wonder if the author even bothered to hear the hard work the band put in. But when publicists sent Nanami Ozone’s second album, NO, to inboxes, reviewers actually paid attention. The Phoenix quartet’s hybrid of pop, shoegaze, and ’90s alternative is too good to ignore. Now, the band are touring the coasts (and Canada) to become the Valley’s greatest musical export since AJJ. We’re already planning think pieces about the group’s success.

Of the few Phoenix-bred groups to make it out of the desert, Injury Reserve have to be the most boundary-pushing. After signing with indie-major label Loma Vista last year, they delivered their self-titled debut album in May, preceded by a string of videos showing the trio staging a fashion show, taking a Tesla for a joyride, and other wild ideas. They’re currently on a worldwide tour that will take them to Australia, Japan, and Europe. There’s also a local date scheduled for December 27 at The Van Buren.

It’s easy to talk to Peter Resendiz, frontman of Phoenix’s Sad Dance Party, and forget that he’s just 20 years old — or that his band have only been around for a couple of years. Part of that ease is Resendiz’s blend of charm and commitment, the kind of musician you’d follow even through a lengthy goth phase. With Resendiz as their screaming, beating heart, SDP make deeply expressive music, squeezing every intense, overwhelming emotion possible into two-minute punk songs. Last year’s Spontaneous Human Combustion felt like an achievement in balancing earworm songwriting with deeply visceral displays of humanity, and yet the band already have moved onward and upward. Subsequent singles like “Older, Sadder” track SDP toward new, more streamlined territories that only extend their basic shelf life. And all that’s before word one of their frequent touring, collaborations with other local bands, and December’s Pleasure Planet festival. SDP are a true Phoenix band, typifying the city’s restless energy and knack for trail-blazing. Now, everybody dance away all your deepest, darkest feelings.

It’s presumptuous for any band to open a boutique shop selling their merchandise a stone’s throw from their hometown, but most bands aren’t as bold as The Maine. The store, which opened in January to coincide with their 8123 Festival, isn’t just another revenue stream for the quintet. It’s an exciting way for the indie group to interact with their dedicated fanbase. The Tempe band use the space to test their ideas that most musicians on major labels can’t even try, like a listening party for their seventh album, You Are OK. Even if you aren’t a fan of the local pop-rock group, seeing the record’s uplifting title plastered on T-shirts, notebooks, and all over the walls is affirming for your soul.

Nearly every music promoter in town is finding a way to boost the visibility of local musicians, but Stephen Chilton, the man behind Psyko Steve Presents and co-owner of The Rebel Lounge, does it in a way that is fun for those on both sides of the mic. His crowning achievement is the Phoenix Rock Lottery. For one day in January, over 20 musicians are separated into bands to write a couple of original songs. They perform them (and a cover) in front of an eager audience that evening. Offstage, Chilton unites the local music community with the Basically Annual Phoenix Independents Bowl. The best part is that proceeds from both events benefit local charities.

Undertaker, Brock Lesnar, Asuka — the wrestling world loves a good winning streak. So it’s only fitting that wrestling podcast co-host Teek Hall is on a streak of his own: This is the Detroit native’s second consecutive year holding the Best Rapper strap. It’s a run that’s well-deserved — the lyrically agile Hall is a beast incarnate on the mic. When he’s not co-hosting Mat Mania with Mega Ran (another Phoenix rap MVP), Hall is decimating the competition with his dense, clever, and undeniable rhymes. In a way, his imagination is like a hall: wide and long, capable of containing a myriad of characters, scenarios, and flights of fancy. Anyone looking to take the title from him in 2020 has his work cut out for him if Hall keeps spitting at his usual level of intensity. When Teek Hall hops on the track, every syllable becomes a suplex and every chorus is a finisher.

If you didn’t get in on the ground floor with Blossom, the local DJ/producer who’s been performing in the local dance scene since 2016, better hop aboard now. That’s because her career is headed straight into the stratosphere. Just this year alone, Blossom (born Emily Fromm) has made such money moves as serving up sounds at local electronic dance music festivals, releasing tracks and remixes on influential labels like Night Bass and Insomniac Records, and performing a spectacular set at Bonnaroo. She’s notched all these high-profile accomplishments with a mix of hard work and plenty of talent. In 2015, Blossom was trained in the art of beat-making, mixing, and producing by such EDM heavyweights as Petey Clicks at L.A.’s famed DJ school, Dubspot. Blossom then began turning heads with her tracks, both online and at local club nights like BFF. And she hasn’t looked back. “After Blossom returned to town, she immediately was doing stuff that was totally amazing. She’s played everything from house to harder bass stuff and a lot in between,” says BFF promoter Sean Watson. “She’s a skilled mixer and skilled performer who creates her own music, and she goes out there and slays it every time.”

Though the group’s name implies elitism or exclusion, the DJs of Techno Snobs are a welcoming bunch. Anyone can attend the local electronic dance music collective’s events, be they ravers, burners, club kids, or non-EDM fans. And it’s because Techno Snobs want to share the genre with all, says collective co-founder Occultus. “We welcome all walks of life: the bass community, the hip-hop community, the glovers, the shufflers, the flow artists, the fire-spinners,” he says. “Everyone’s welcome.” The Techno Snobs have been spreading their love and knowledge since 2017, when Occultus and other members started out honing their mixing skills for hours on end at someone’s house. Then came a biweekly party at Time Out Lounge in Tempe, which necessitated scoring equipment on the sly. “We’d buy a subwoofer at Guitar Center, unbox it at the bar, use it for one night, and return it,” he says. These days, they can afford entire sound systems, which see use at events like the Full Moon Festival and underground parties. They’ve also brought in world-renowned techno artists like Exos, Volvox, and Keith Carnal. It’s all part of their grand plan to get people to say yes to techno. “Everyone should have the opportunity to be exposed to techno,” Occultus says.

If you are looking for a place to treat yourself and feel fancy AF, go to Orange Sky at Talking Stick Resort and knock back a few pricey but delicious cocktails while watching the sun set over some of the beautiful mountains that surround the Valley. Orange Sky is a great place to go if you have something to celebrate, want to impress friends or family from out of town, or are just having the worst week ever and prefer to lick your wounds by dropping a bunch of money like you actually have it. The service is great, the view is unbeatable, and the food is incredible. Unlike many high-end restaurants, the portion sizes at Orange Sky match the price, and it feels pretty cool to be literally guided behind a velvet rope to the outside portion of the restaurant and seated near a shallow reflection pool. Space is limited outside, so if you’d like to get a sunset view, be sure to make a reservation. And bring a sweater for when the sun sets — it’s windy all the way up there.

In 1970, Italian architect Paolo Soleri broke ground just 70 miles north of Phoenix on a vision of an alternative habitat for people who were intrigued by his philosophy of building an environmentally conscious “urban laboratory” that amalgamated architecture and ecology — a concept termed “arcology” by Soleri. This community, which he called Arcosanti, is the perfect setting for musicians, poets, artists, and fans to come together under the dazzling desert sky for a weekend of camping, dancing, and learning. FORM addresses some of the most frustrating parts of attending a music festival — camping and toilet conditions, obtrusive stages, overlapping set times, crowds — and corrects for them all. Every stage is set within the exquisite architecture that makes Arcosanti the otherworldly place that it is. The intimacy of the stages, set under ornately designed concrete apses, makes for a palpably connected experience for the fans and artists alike. FORM is what other music festivals purport to be by simply existing within its own means. Throughout each day, guests have the opportunity to enjoy every single set because there are no overlapping set times, allowing attendees to see the stunning range of performing artists. In 2019, attendees saw Fred Armisen perform a musical comedy set, the Russian anarchists Pussy Riot, and Florence Welch (of Florence + the Machine) interview the celebrated poet Yrsa Daley-Ward, all in the same weekend.

The Unity Summit Music Festival promised to be the “biggest splash in recent Arizona music history” last November. Everything was supposed to go down at Mesa’s Scarizona Scaregrounds and 10 satellite locations throughout the Valley, with tickets running anywhere from $75 to $1,200. But a lineup that justified the ticket price was never announced. Instead, an event took place at a pizza place in downtown Mesa. Mellow Man Ace, DJ Rectangle, and Iakopo were at the top of the bill. When competing documentary crews eventually descend upon the east Valley to investigate our state’s version of the Fyre Festival, they’ll find chaos behind the scenes. Stages were never built. While we never heard from anyone who ponied up $1,200 for a ticket, ultimately the vendors and performers paid the price: A lawsuit was filed against one of the co-founders in March for failing to return a deposit to the vendor.

Brandon Decker, who records and tours as decker., moved to the San Francisco Bay Area last year. Judging from his tour schedule, you would had never known he left. The songwriter, who now has moved back to Sedona, returned on numerous occasions with his band to play his heart out, including a compelling performance at Last Exit Live in May for a forthcoming live album (his cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Famous Blue Raincoat” brought some members of the audience to tears). The music scene felt a little emptier without him, which is why we were ecstatic that the rumors that he was coming back for good were true. Welcome home.

Crescent Ballroom may be first thought of as Charlie Levy’s intimate music venue, but the front lounge, patio, and balcony operate as its own bar and eatery. The restaurant, otherwise known as Cocina 10, serves burritos, tacos, and other Arizona road food, while the full bar kicks out beer and wine (spot the Arizona brands by the cactus icon next to the menu item), as well as specialty cocktails. Try house drinks like the Rest Stop, La Ultima Palabra, or the beloved Honey Badger. During happy hour — 3 to 6 p.m., Monday through Friday — that Honey Badger is on special. Crescent Ballroom’s location is ideal as well. It’s found downtown, within walking distance of Arizona State University, other bars, and many an office building, but just far enough away from the high-rises to provide a stunning view of the skyline from the second-floor balcony.

Since April, Thunderbird Lounge has operated in the last slot of the Melrose District’s historic Wagon Wheel Building. The new neighborhood bar shoots for a 1970s Midwestern tavern vibe, and its three owners/friends seem to have accomplished this. The amenities are the best part: The ATM dispenses singles and fives for the jukebox and cigarette machine, and there’s wood-fired pizza made in the backyard-style patio by Dino’s Napoletana (part of the neighboring Restaurant Progress team). The arcade machines are set to free play all day, and there are endless supplies of Montucky Cold Snacks, RC Cola, Jay’s Potato Chips, and O-Ke-Doke popcorn. Guests also can expect happy hour specials and themed evenings.

Typically, nightclubs come and go as times, tastes, and trends change. Monarch Theatre, however, has not only survived the past seven years, but thrived, becoming the reigning king of downtown Phoenix’s dance-club scene. And it’s done so by constantly evolving over time, whether it’s adding new amenities like its popular upstairs Scarlet Lounge in 2016, appealing to a wide cross-section of clubgoers with a variety of genres (from bass-heavy EDM and deep house to Latin sounds), or featuring high-energy club nights like the weekly Ikonik Fridays and Saturnalia seshes. Monarch’s owners (the trio of local entrepreneur Edson Madrigal and local DJs Peter Salaz and Senbad) sprang for a major remodel, adding high-style amenities to the 7,000-square-foot main room and other parts of the two-story property. There are always challengers to the throne, especially in an often cutthroat scene, but for the moment, it’s good to be the kings.

It’s the eternal struggle for any new bar, restaurant, or nightspot: How do you find a hook that grabs people’s attention and — more importantly — gets them in the door? The people behind Scottsdale nightspot The Hot Chick believe the way to do it is with a cute name, some retro flair, classic arcade games, and plenty of fun. And so far, they haven’t been wrong. Since opening over the summer, the joint has been packed with people who have come to drop tokens into games like Frogger, Donkey Kong, and Galaga while soaking up the late ’70s/early ’80s vibe (think Dazed and Confused meets Boogie Nights). They’ve also come to dance, as The Hot Chick’s rotating lineup of DJs has been getting bodies moving with an array of classic rock, disco, Motown, glam, and old-school hip-hop songs mixed in with more modern tracks. We’ve even seen The Hot Chick go wild when DJs have played “YMCA” by the Village People, including patrons spelling out the letters during the chorus, just like dancers have done for ages. It’s nice to know that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

To most people, the term “BFF” stands for “best friends forever.” At Sean Watson’s Friday night dance affair, BFF, the acronym could mean anything, depending on the whims of its DJs. “We’ve had all these different names for it,” Watson says, laughing. “It’s been Big Fun Fridays, Best Friends Forever, or even Big Fucking Fantastic. We’ve changed it up a bunch of times.” The name isn’t the only thing that’s changed at the event, which has gone down at Bar Smith almost every weekend for six years. BFF’s soundtrack, setting, and DJ lineup constantly have evolved, going from a house and techno night on the venue’s rooftop to a diverse dance party on both floors of the club with a mix of local DJs. (Watson, Cormac, and Klu are its current residents.) “We started getting into deeper stuff, indie dance, and future bass,” Watson says. “And then downstairs has everything now: trance nights, bass nights, underground stuff … all these different genres.” One constant, though, has been the vibe. “It’s always been this intimate experience where you’re always close with other people, everyone knows your name, and everyone’s dancing together and having a good time,” Watson says. You know, just like some BFFs.

For nocturnal dance fiends looking to sink their fangs into a dark groove on a weekly basis, LILITH is the place to be. Over the last few years, DJ Tristan Iseult has hosted a no-cover goth night at Stacy’s @ Melrose. The event, like the venue itself (formerly known as Sanctum), has gone through name changes over the years. It was called Sour Times, but Iseult has rechristened his dance party with the name of the great-great-great-great-great-grandmother of goth: Lillith, first wife of Adam, and mother of all things that go bump in the night. Going to a LILITH night, it’s plain to see why this Wednesday show has been a late-night Valley staple for so long. The place is regularly packed, the venue’s general decor and ambience fit the music perfectly, and DJ Tristan brings the jams. His sets run the gamut of dark music, going from the early post-punk days to modern acts like Cold Cave and Tamaryn. And while you can expect to hear a few familiar gems each time, Iseult varies his music constantly, so you can always expect to get a few new earworms stuck in your head after a night of getting your goth-stomp on at LILITH.

Let’s set the scene here — paint a picture, if you will. You walk up to the bouncer; he checks your ID. It’s a fake — oh no, the cops are called. Just kidding. (That’s probably been the experience of plenty of people, though.) After you get the go-ahead from the bouncer, you walk in, see the intimate (code for tiny) space filled with couples of all ages grinding. Okay, the usual, besides some questionable age gaps. You push through the crowd. Oh, there’s a dance circle? Oh, no. You see a couple awfully close, too close. Are they allowed to be doing that? Are his pants down? Is she …? Time to move on. You’ve been out for a minute, so it’s time to check out the facilities. Not your usual restroom, or your average restroom attendant. We’ll leave it to you to check out what they’re selling. Time for a drink that takes a little too long to make. You spot an open seat at a booth toward the back. Finally, a minute to relax, sip on your drink, and process what you’ve seen (or watch The Green Mile on the TV above the bar — true story).

The beauty of 12 West is part beer — an array that can satisfy both the craft newbie and wonk — and part location. Inside, at the 12 West bar, you have a view across the room at the wood-fueled Fire and Brimstone Pizza oven; a baked potato pizza is never more than a few steps away. Out on the patio, you can soak up rays and admire Barnone, the complex housing the brewery. Beers have enough range to keep you drinking. Co-founder and head brewer Noel Garcia can nail crushable classics, like pilsner (see Zona Pils). His standby New England-style IPA is lush and dank, with some tropicality. Lately, too, the brewery has ventured into experimental territory: a line of mixed-culture sours. Like a long day filled with all kinds of wild beers, this brewery just keeps getting better with age.

Earlier this year, the Phoenix-based “Nedal” band Okilly Dokilly, an outfit whose members all dress like Ned Flanders from The Simpsons, had something unexpected happen. The long-running cartoon’s producers called the band and asked if they could play their video for “White Wine Spritzer” over the credits on the episode “I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say D’oh.” Okilly Dokilly were going to be on the actual Simpsons, a dream come true for a parody band that risks copyright infringement simply by existing. “I feel humbled, proud, and somewhat liberated. Almost like I’m wearing nothing at all,” band leader Head Ned told Phoenix New Times after the episode aired. “I think when we get back home, we might just take a drive up to Vegas and celebrate with a white wine spritzer.”

If your parents, like many, are suburbanites, and you’d like to give them a taste of downtown Phoenix — as well as a wild craft cocktail — there’s no better place than Bitter & Twisted Cocktail Parlour. This is for two reasons: One, it’s a full-on operation, complete with team members with headsets, waiting outside even if there are open tables, and the annually released Book o’ Cocktails. For 2019, the 18-page menu lists more than 60 craft cocktails with a big-top theme — think the Three-Ring Circus, Irish Passport, Bourbon Butter Cloud, and Peachy Keen. The second reason doesn’t concern alcohol at all. If mom or dad is designated as driver, or doesn’t partake, there’s a full page of mocktails — like the Nada Colada and Storms a Brewin’.

From the vantage point of Mill and Southern avenues, all you can see of Yucca Tap Room is the smokers’ patio. There’s something poetic about this (in a quintessentially Tempe sense of poetic). Yucca has given live music a dependable home in Tempe for 40 years and remains one of the true old-guard stalwarts from the days of (cue Jimmy Eat World song) Nita’s Hideaway and Long Wong’s. In the last year, Yucca added to its identity as bar and music venue two vital elements: Bao Chow and the Electric Bat Arcade. Bao Chow’s sandwiches are available to the hungry of all ages before 7 p.m., when the Tap Room puts on its party hat. After that, the dozens of drafts and the affordable back room of pinball machines and classic arcade games give Yucca a Hotel California-type persona of becoming quite difficult to leave. With all this, plus live music onstage almost 365 days a year (often at no cover), you can guarantee that Yucca will give you a great night to sleep off in the morning.

The afternoon temperature could be well beyond 100 degrees, but that won’t deter many from posting up on the wraparound patio at Casey Moore’s Oyster House. The Tempe bar and eatery, but mostly bar, is a go-to for many Tempeans — either for pregame, post-game, or the game. And for many, the open-air seating and back bar of Casey’s is a haven for a couple of reasons. You can drink, order food, bring your dog till 5 p.m., and smoke ’em if you got ’em — even if you have to bum one (no judgment). And you can see the little illuminated cherries, especially at night, flying around as someone recounts a hopefully hilarious story after a couple of tall cold ones.

There are dive bars, and then there’s the Palo Verde in Tempe. A place where obnoxious graffiti covers both restrooms, the default aroma is a hybrid of body odor and old cigarettes, and filth is caked on every surface like stucco on a tract home. Frankly, we wouldn’t change a single thing about the Dirty Verde. It’s a scrappy little shithole (and we say that with love) that’s been a go-to spot for slumming for several decades now. The drinks are cheap and sometimes amusingly named (like the “Hammjob,” for instance), hard-rock shows and fun DJ nights happen frequently, and its mix of neighborhood regulars and the young and hip equals nonstop people-watching. Plus, flushing the men’s room toilet involves tugging on a Rube Goldberg-like setup consisting of pulleys, bandanas, and a dog leash. The PV might be skeevy, but she’s always a good time.

Big Daddy’s was everything a sports bar should be: The beer was cold, the lighting dim, the TVs always on. There was vinyl upholstery on the booths, mismatched chairs at the tables, and karaoke every Saturday night. Then, it almost went away last summer after more than 30 years in north Phoenix. Dave “Big Daddy” Smith retired and sold his beloved Sunnyslope neighborhood joint. Apparently, the new owners tried to turn it into yet another barbecue eatery, eschewing the expansive menu of burgers, wings, pizzas, hot dogs, deep-fried everything, and, oh, those Wisconsin cheese curds that had made Big Daddy’s the place to stuff your face during big games and horse racing (yes, it has off-track-betting windows, too). But never fear. Like the Cleveland Browns, whose diehard fans make their home there every Sunday, Big Daddy’s is back. Smith came off the sidelines and regained control last January, restoring everything as it was, even re-hanging his collection of sports memorabilia that had been removed from the walls. Not that Big Daddy’s is totally a creature of the 20th century. You can now order online for pickup or delivery. So if you don’t like to watch the game outside the comfort of your man cave, you can have the Big Daddy’s Special, a 26-inch pizza and 50 wings, brought to your front door.

It’s hard to describe Phoenix’s hottest tiki bar without sounding like Stefon from Saturday Night Live, but this place has everything: a random assortment of bird cages, giant tiki statues, and a long, wandering menu that tells the story of Captain John Mallory and his first mate, Robert Louis Henderson III. Rich Furnari and Jason Asher are back, and this time, they’re nautical. Located in an old oil bay beneath Sip Coffee & Beer Garage, this 500-square-foot, reservations-recommended cocktail lounge features dozens of specialty drinks and the somewhat schizophrenic ambiance of being on the lower deck of a ship making its way through the jungle. The 34-seat underground bar occasionally erupts with the sounds of thunderclaps, as the lights mimic lightning and the screens inside the portholes along the walls flood with rain. Otherwise, the portholes mostly display passing islands, exchanges of cannon fire with enemy ships, and scenes of sunsets, while the music is mostly jungle noises peppered with jazz, although that may be something pirates do after last call to get people back above deck.

Just like Mario under the influence of a magic mushroom, the Valley’s game-bar scene is undergoing a major growth spurt. In the months ahead, a number of geek-friendly watering holes equipped with a multitude of arcade, pinball, console, and board games will all debut. And each would be wise to take some tips and tricks from The Grid in Mesa, which does the game-bar concept right. Its two rooms are filled with glowing screens and feature gaming action of every sort, ranging from classic systems at each table to various joystick favorites like Bump ‘n’ Jump and Mortal Kombat 4. Even the stage, which hosts live music and DJs on weekends and a weekly Rock Band session every Monday night, is dotted with HDTVs broadcasting video game footage. Meanwhile, The Grid also has giant Jenga, foosball, an air hockey table, pinball machines, and tall bookshelves stacked with board games. Its lineup of several dozen brews available in bottles, cans, or on tap is just as staggering, and worth consulting if you need something to dull the pain of getting pwned at Fortnite.

A staple nightlife spot of the Melrose District, the roadhouse-style Char’s Has the Blues is part bar and part wedding reception, as there’s live music every night here. There’s usually dancing and a steady flow of drinks, too. It’s totally dark inside, with the dimmest hint of red light guiding you to the restroom, your seat, or back to the bar, which also makes it the perfect blues club. Char’s self-describes as being Phoenix’s Home of the Blues, with in-house performances by Sir Harrison and Friends, as well as recurring jam sessions and touring blues artists. Char’s claims its musicians play the best blues, R&B, soul, and funk the Valley has to offer — and there’s a reason blues is named first.

Music seeps through the door. It opens, and the band blasts. You cut past the tables — past the folks munching loaded tater tots and Tex-Mex egg rolls, folks rocking Stetson hats and jeans and even spurs. Bud Lights. Whiskeys. Waters. You push through the crowd to the night outside: bonfires, people everywhere, servers wheeling through the crowd, a bull ring in the near distance. And once you get your first drink, the raucous crowd starts to absorb you. Maybe you dance on the second stage, the one outside. Maybe you’re already onto a second drink. In the end, it all flows to that bull ring — surrounded by teetering bleachers — where amateurs board live, hulking, fantastically pissed off animals and see how long they can stay on. And you remember the sights, sounds, and animals days and weeks later, as you’re going about your work or maybe walking an urban world of glass and concrete. Getting out to the Buffalo Chip is experiencing the wildness left in our part of the West.

The folks who run The Nash apparently are none too happy with New Times, because we reported that the jazz venue likely will be leaving its home on Roosevelt Row soon. Well, excuse us for stating the obvious. The purple-and-tin building on the corner of Roosevelt and First streets was purchased for $2.1 million. The Nash’s lease was up in August. A nonprofit that doesn’t have food service isn’t going to be able to afford the rent needed to make the building profitable. Management even said it was already scouting new locations. Therefore, we refuse to apologize. But wherever The Nash ends up, we will continue to applaud its effort to keep jazz alive and thriving in Phoenix. Named for local drummer Lewis Nash, the club has earned a reputation well beyond Arizona. The Chicago-based jazz magazine DownBeat has included The Nash in its international jazz venue guide every year since 2014. The Nash doesn’t just present music; it provides a robust lineup of educational programs through Jazz in Arizona, which promotes jazz appreciation and performance. So let us be clear: We love The Nash. Stick that in your horn and blow it.

If the sum total of your metal knowledge is limited to that Ozzy comp you bought on a whim or a handful of Metalocalypse episodes, allow us to clue you in. The multifaceted world of metal is rich with a diverse array of subgenres, each offering its own take, style, and hellacious hallmarks. And every week, you can hear many of these subgenres blaring inside Club Red, ranging from the speed, death, and technical variations of metal to more esoteric offerings like symphonic and djent. Over the last five years, the Mesa music venue has become a haven for heshers, thanks to its great sound system and metal-friendly staff. Touring acts from across the world (including such heavy hitters as Týr, Decrepit Birth, Psycroptic, and Fleshgod Apocalypse) have played there on the regular, while local bands often host mini-festivals or album release shows at Club Red. Plus, they’ve got free parking and an enormous lot where you can stash your sticker-clad ride before heading inside to throw hook’em horns to your black heart’s content. Rock on.