Best Of :: Arts & Entertainment
Thursdays at Bender's is like a salmon migration. In a sea of dyed black locks and thick mascara, sweaty hormones bubble to the surface as twenty-somethings shamelessly grope each other on the dance floor. Every week, the two-room club is packed, with Balls Deep Karaoke hosted by Jermaine Smith on one side and Night of the Living Shred holding its own on the other. Shred, however, is where the rocker boys and the girls who like rocker boys come together under the sweet tunes of DJs Wesley Wayne and Parris. The two trade off spinning duties and create danceable playlists of old-school hip-hop, '80s hits and modern rock. But only half the crowd is paying attention; most of the young party-hoppers are here to drink up or hook up.
Rockbar could inspire a confirmed teetotaler to do a swan dive off the wagon within ten minutes of walking through the door. Conjuring the bygone decadence left behind by Perry's -- as the joint was known during the last days of disco -- Rockbar is the ideal place to relive your wasted youth. The decor in this late-'70s time-capsule remains pristinely intact, with exposed rock walls, patterned carpet, foil wallpaper and vintage lighting fixtures. There's also a notable kitsch factor about the place -- the trashy menu, the lowbrow drink selection (Mad Dog and brands of beer you swore you'd never drink again), the neon band-logo signage and the retro tuneage -- that has prompted some detractors to grumble that the brashness is a little too calculated. These people are completely missing the point. For those about to Rock, we salute you.
Recently witnessed at the Horseshoe Lounge: Avery Rains, aka Mr. Pacman, dressed in a full-bodied lion suit, head and paws included, stripping down to a very skimpy and curiously bulged pink thong. True fucking story. Unfortunately, this was a one-off birthday-party gig and not a weekly event, but it does prove how superbly awesome the Horseshoe is for allowing such hilarious debauchery. Outfitted with comfy stools, two booths, a couple of couches, a pool table and a dartboard, the bar is lounge-tastic and tailored for intimate gatherings with good friends. And if you get lucky, maybe Rains will be there and you can entice him into strutting his stuff just for you.
At first blush, the Lure is a swank place. Almost too swank. Hang out there for a while, though, and you start to realize that it's pretty relaxed. Like that really hot blonde in high school that you yearned to talk to but couldn't muster up the courage, there's more to the joint than meets the eye. Remember when you finally got the stones to talk to her and found out that she was into Hunter S. Thompson and dug Tom Waits? Yeah, the Lure is surprisingly cool like that. Instead of being greeted by some huge meathead at the door, the first thing you see is a gang of smiling ladies behind the bar. It's like a grown-up version of the famed City Spirit, which used to inhabit this spot nearly a decade ago.
Arvada's answer to a Colfax dive bar, 12 Volt Tavern has all the grit and attitude of the city -- without the Colfax freaks. Plopped down in the middle of Olde Town Arvada, the Tavern may seem out of place among its better-groomed neighbors, but its well-worn character is completely authentic. Although the place has only been known as by its current name for the past four years, the bar itself has been at the same location for nearly sixty years. The joint is a choice spot for punks and blue-collar barflies to congregate over drinks and games of pool. During the week, the Volt's killer jukebox spits out cuts by Sabbath, Zep, the Clash, the Sex Pistols and Hank Williams. And on the weekends, the bar gets hotwired by a steady parade of local punk and rockabilly acts.
Aztec Sol is best known for its exhaustive collection of more than 200 tequilas, carefully curated by owner Jose Lara. The funky neighborhood spot is a favorite among locals who live and drink on the edge of Highland: Both caballeros and condo-dwellers are drawn by Aztec Sol's cheap eats and potent, imaginative cocktails. In addition to cantaritas and vampiros (two sobriety-slashing tequila creations), the Sol now offers wireless Internet. Sure, the place can be dark and the music loud, but the connection is strong and, like the chips and salsa, free of charge. So log on -- vamonos!