Saturday Night Fever
Four journalists check out Denver’s night life

By Adam Goldstein • goldstea@mscd.edu
photos by Emily Varisco • varisco@mscd.edu

Nonny Meyer, a waitress at Club 404, takes an order Saturday, April 15. Meyer has been working for Club 404 for over 26 years and is likely to call anyone at your table “Hon” while catering to your requests.

Aaron Lawerence plays a game of pool while the band, John Nathan and the Rotten Gamblers, plays behind him Saturday, April 15 at the Skylark Lounge.

The Skylark recently changed locations to accomodate its larger crowds, drawn in by the live music and its renowned jukebox. Right to left: Michelle Machain, Lisa Ayala, and Lori Sisneros dance the “Electric Slide” at the Valverde Yacht Club Saturday, April 15. The Valverde Yacht Club is located on Alameda and I-25 and offers karaoke, pool and dancing.

   What adventures await in Denver on a typical Saturday night? Armed with a notepad and a camera, our corps of student journalists struck out in search of a taste of the city’s nightlife. We wanted to avoid corporate bars and lifeless restaurants; our true goal was to unearth the real personality and life that sets a Saturday night in Denver apart.
   We found friendly bartenders, enthusiastic patrons, the fun of Karaoke and the majesty of Heavy Metal.


Club 404 Lounge
404 Broadway
   Our first stop is a historic watering hole at 404 Broadway, a Denver staple that has seen the city bloom and transform over its half-century stint as a gathering place.
   Club 404 Lounge is tucked among the standard Broadway fare: pawn shops, antique stores and liquor stands. Its impressive crimson sign sets it apart from its neighbors, however, and its interior speaks of an aged comfort that only long years can bestow.
   There are four of us: three writers and a photographer. We are shown to a cozy booth against a wall peppered with beer posters and menus. Behind the bar is a black-and-white poster of a 1956 Oldsmobile parked in front of the bar over 30 years ago.
   Even the waitress, a 26-year veteran employee named Nonny Meyer, bespeaks a captivating amount of life experience in her steady gait and her purposeful manner. When she offers us menus and calls us “Hon,” our night on the town finds its official starting point.
   Radio-friendly hard rock from the ‘80s blares as we settle in and order our PBRs. Despite the insistent guitar solos and plaintive butt-rock vocals, a sense of nostalgia hangs in the air. The almost palpable atmosphere that shines in every detail of the space, in its chipped furniture and its wizened patrons, would be impossible to recreate or imitate in any kitsch bar.
   “ (The bar) is my family legacy,” said Jeff Feld, manager on the night of our visit. “We’ve done it right for 55 years.”
   Although the neighborhood and the patrons have changed since Feld’s family first opened the doors in 1951, the cozy ambience and personal touch has kept the spot thriving. This is a dive-bar in the best sense of the term, an unassuming and unpretentious spot where drunken adventures with a varied cast of characters await.
   In addition to the standard menu of alcoholic brews, Club 404 offers a menu that would make any carnivore’s mouth water. Their specialty steaks and burgers offer a filling fare for under $10.
   The eight-ounce club steak is a filling meal for $9. The course begins with a salad served with a massive tub of blue cheese dressing. It’s a blissful bounty to please taste buds, but a horrid temptation to ruin any diet. The medium-rare steak is ordinary compared to most steakhouses, but it’s the best $9 steak I’ve ever had. The meal is complete with sides consisting of beans, rice and green chili, creating a flavorsome orgy of food.
   As for the booze, the beers and mixed drinks are standard for the most part, with a few special exceptions. We have missed the special, only available on Tuesday nights, the $2.25 you-call-it offer that applies to any drink (except scotch and wine.) Nevertheless, there are plenty of deals available.    I order a specialty drink. The Mango Piñata is a saccharine mixture of Captain Morgan Parrot Bay    Mango liquor and pineapple. It is a potent concoction, a brew that sets details spinning in my mind and that revives long-discarded memories.
   With such a powerful elixir coursing through my bloodstream, I am ready for the next stop. We bid farewell to the quaint and inimitable staple bar and head for the last remaining cow-town bars:


The Skylark Lounge.
Skylark Lounge
140 S. Broadway
   The Skylark Lounge is another historic Denver drinking site, and although its new location lacks some of the grit and grime of the original, it still boasts an undeniably retro flavor.
   As we enter, twangy guitar lines belted by John Nathan and the Rotten Gamblers greet us. The music fits the establishment, as the cowboy lilt and honky-tonk melodies further embellish the carefully maintained ambience.
   Posters of vintage personalities and films adorn every inch of the walls. As Johnny Nathan and his crew rip out lines reminiscent of Hank Williams and Johnny Cash, the images of Marilyn Monroe, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holliday, Dizzy Gillespie and Duke Ellington look on from the perches along the wall.
   Although the music is live tonight, the bar boasts one of the best jukeboxes in the city. As I sip on yet another PBR, I browse selections by Tom Waits, James Brown, Edith Piaf, Big Mama Thornton, Howlin’ Wolf, Chick Webb, Muddy Waters and scores of other roots artists in the jukebox.
   “ It’s always been a good bar with great music,” said Gary Lee, a bartender with seven years of experience at the Skylark. “There are no televisions; it’s a conversation bar.”
   Indeed, the Skylark boasts a place as one of Denver’s last authentic Western bars. Its flare for the pop culture of the past distinguishes it as a truly unique spot in Denver’s nightlife.
   Our conversation thrives, but the pulsing music and packed room soon send us on our route to the next nocturnal adventure: Karaoke.


The Valverde Yacht Club
1319 Alameda
   The sunken bar of the Valverde Yacht Club is disorienting at first. The bartender stands at a lower level, and my perspective, already skewed by the PBRs and Mango Piñata, is thrown for a loop.
   The shift in viewpoint is a fitting preparation for our activities at the bar, as we are about to make the shift from unassuming patrons to singing sensations.
   There is a small crowd assembled in front of a pair of TVs and a PA system. Karaoke renditions of well-worn pop tunes ring from the speakers as lyrics are spelled out on the monitors. We have come to the ultimate experience in alcohol-inspired abandonment, singing drunkenly for a drunken crowd.
   We have to guzzle a bit more beer before we build the requisite courage to perform. Still, as we fill out the song request forms and pore over the selections, inhibitions begin to disappear. The crowd is friendly and encouraging, adopting us immediately into the regular crowd of blue-collar imbibers. Plus, there is no pressure to sing too well, as would-be stars steadily massacre standards in off-key tones.
   This amateurism is the appeal of Karaoke, however, and the Yacht Club’s small size and endearing crowd steady us as we each make our way to the makeshift stage.
   We tackle such songs as “Secret Agent Man,” “Bad Moon Rising” and “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” with reckless enthusiasm. The regulars are receptive and encouraging, spoiling us with applause and kind words.
   We are soon addicted to the rush and humor of the whole experience, picking out more and more songs and making more and more of a spectacle of ourselves.
   When we finally make our exit, we leave feeling part of an extended family. Although there may be bars that tout fancier sound systems and more song selections, the Valverde Yacht Club’s Karaoke trumps the rest in its sheer welcoming and intimate setting.


Esquire Theater
590 Downing Street
   As our final stop on our whirlwind tour of Denver on a Saturday night, we opt for culture over drinks.
   The midnight movie is a regular feature at the Esquire, and has featured such diverse titles as 1932’s classic “Freaks” to Mel Brooks’ “Spaceballs.” Every Saturday night features a cult classic and a rambunctious crowd.
   This week’s pick is “Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey,” a sociological exploration into the musical genre that has made countless eardrums bleed. Director Sam Dunn takes an academic look at heavy metal, and includes interviews and clips from some of the music’s most notable contributors. Alice    Cooper, Ronnie James Dio, Lenny and Tony Iommi contribute to this cinematic and anthropological exploration.
   We settle into the foldout seats and try to avoid the sticky spots on the floor. After a night filled with cheap beer and Karaoke performances, we are ready to relax. The crowd is its own entertainment, as disaffected youth in leather jackets offer their own tribute to heavy metal: the devil horn gesture proffered to the screen.
   Although the movie has its moments, the experience is more enjoyable than the actual film. There is something powerful to be said for seeing a movie at midnight, both for its entertainment and cultural value. The satanic excesses of Norwegian heavy metal and its sheer silliness seems more poignant in the darkened theater than it would be on a television screen.
   When we finally shuffle out of the theatre, the toll of the evening has caught up with us. We are drowsy and drained of energy as we head home after a night on the town. It takes a lot to stuff heavy metal, Karaoke and cowboy music into one night.