Bars & Clubs

To call the Double Wide a "rock bar" is a bit of a slight. It's much more than a bar. Sure, it has a bar, but right across the patio from that home base, the establishment also boasts a bona fide concert room with a capacity of 75 (and there's another bar in there, by the way), and it's one of the best rooms in town to catch a show. Really, though, the Double Wide transcends both the "bar" and "venue" tags; for much of the Dallas music community, the Double Wide also serves as a home of sorts. Stop by the place any night of the week for proof. Whether there's a show taking place or not, you'll find a whole cast of local musicians at the spot, shooting the shit, tossing back some drinks and reveling in one another's company and camaraderie. Maybe it's because so many of them play shows there that they feel so comfortable in that environment. Maybe it's because those same musicians are so often invited back to host DJ nights. More likely, it's just the overall vibe of the place itself, which boasts an indisputable charm and an undeniably friendly staff. Sure, "charm" and "friendly" might not be the first things that come to mind when the idea of a "rock bar" is brought up. But ask any musician in town their pick for this honor, and nine times out of 10, the Double Wide's the response you'll hear. And that counts for something.

You want to watch a movie? How about two? Well, they start at 8:15 p.m. (or so) Wednesdays at Tradewinds Social Club. (Hence the name Tradewinds Cinema Club.) George Baum—master of the turntables in late-night watering holes like Lee Harvey's—serves as the TCC master of ceremonies and creates weekly themes such as French flicks (Amelie and Delicatessen) for Bastille Day and "Really Bad People" Movie Night (The Bad Seed and Touch of Evil). But c'mon, we all know one of the best things about Tradewinds is the people watching, and frankly, that just doesn't change when you project a movie onto the wall. Picture it: the usual crowd of Cliff dwellers and hipsters, plus die-hard fans who mouth all the dialogue, then throw in the dude who can't follow what's happening and the totally oblivious chick who walks in right when the girl sets the caretaker on fire. Now that's something to watch.

You need to play whirly ball. That's just all there is to it. We can tell you that after grabbing a beer at the bar and getting briefed by a Whirly Ball Dallas professional (most assuredly with a shady nickname), you will walk into a strange gym-like room and board a bumper car that has a crank instead of a steering wheel. We could tell you that while "driving" said car you'll toss around a whiffle ball using a lacrosse-like scoop and aim the ball at the target on a net-less electronic backboard. But that doesn't convey the bizarrely sudden competitive spirit that seizes your soul and compels you to contort your upper body in ways you didn't know you could just to snatch a little ball away from an opposing team member...while verbally taunting them. Or how incredibly fun it is to spend any amount of time acting like a total freak on the court.

We have a theory about how the drinking game quarters, in which you attempt to bounce a 25-cent piece into a beer cup, was invented. Someone really wanted to play a round of Ms. Pac-Man or Q*Bert and was making do with a situation wherein they had the change but no arcade game to stick it in. Fortunately, that will never be a problem at Barcadia, where your love of skee-ball and old-school stand-up arcade classics and your hatred for the health of your liver can both be satisfied. Trust us, there are few things more entertaining than watching a grown man punch Spy Hunter's toy steering wheel out of whiskey-fueled, video-game-instigated anger. It's way more fun than drinking coin-flavored beer.

As Downtown Dallas creeps closer and closer to regaining its status as a top entertainment destination among the city's many, many options, the neighborhood is facing some roadblocks. There are just too many carbon-copy ultra lounge establishments that have popped up on Main Street in recent years; we have a hard time keeping track of them all. Thank God, then, for City Tavern, a downtown bar and restaurant that is the polar opposite of the lush venues that surround it. There are no frills at this place, called "the Tavern" by its regulars. And it's working in the bar's favor, too: Whereas the security at the clubs surrounding the City Tavern carefully calculate how many people to allow in from the glitzy lines gathered outside their spots, so as to keep up a demand for entry, the Tavern needs no such tricks. Its patrons walk in and out with nonchalance, and, when gathered out front for a cigarette or simply to gawk at the lemmings in line for the competition, its sidewalk crowds often end up being bigger.

You can't. You won't. And you don't...stop dancing at Station 4 just because it's 2 a.m. and the rest of the world is sulking its way home when their favorite lame bar shuts down. Open until 4 a.m. to facilitate maximum ass-shakage, this place is a pulsating hub of gay, straight and everything-in-between fun, pulsing through dancers' veins alongside that shot of something fluorescent taken after making an ass of oneself to that Ke$ha song. Station 4 is flashing lights on a suspended ceiling-chandelier, stretchy shirts and tiny shorts. Station 4 is no excuse not to sweat through your neon thong—and that goes for guys and girls. Station 4 is 24,000 square feet and no room not to have a good time.

Need proof that the aliens are coming to get us all in 2012? Consider this: The best bar in Dallas (Deep Ellum's La Grange) is also the best place to get a snow cone. La Grange owner Stephanie Schumaker's icy-beverage side-project, 32 Degrees, doesn't demand that you order the thing with a shot of rum, but you sure as hell can if you want to. Human evolution is clearly peaking. Schumaker traveled all the way to Hawaii to find the pinnacle of shaved ice technology, with her machine churning out baby-soft ice into petaled-plastic cone-holders that prevent the dreaded snow-cone drip. Able to order their icy refreshments in the comfort of a cowboy-themed "swanky-tonk," Dallasites no longer must hoof out to the 'burbs to stand in line in the searing sun for a cone out of a seasonal trailer.

If it's, say, late on a weekend night and you're stumbling out of an Uptown bar and into Monday Omoregbee's cab with your friends, odds are good the first question one of you will ask is whether or not this is the "Cash Cab." There are, after all, the party lights, the disco ball, the CDs stuck to the wall. It is not the "Cash Cab." It is a tricked-out white minivan with six microphones and a few songbooks—and unless you're headed deep into the suburbs, you've only got time for a song or two. Decline to sing, and Monday just has to plug in "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" and your cold songless heart will melt in 10 city blocks. Still refuse the mic, and Omoregbee, in his finest lounge singer attire, will take the mic in one hand and the steering wheel in the other for a Lionel Richie tune. In Omoregbee's cab—especially after closing on a Saturday night—it's "Easy Like Sunday Morning" all the way home.

The traditional four ingredients for beer are malted barley, hops, yeast and water. At the Meddlesome Moth, you can get beers from around the world highlighting three of those ingredients: rich malty British ales or German bocks, intensely hoppy West Coast brews, complex yeasty Belgian ales and more. The only thing you won't find is a watery American macrobrew; even with easily more than 100 beer varieties to choose from, the Moth doesn't trifle with Miller Lite or its ilk. The food menu has thoughtful beer pairing suggestions, and the selection changes frequently, with cask-conditioned brews and other rare kegs tapped weekly. The beer can be expensive, but keep in mind that most of them are on the strong side, so you won't need as many. Still, you can stick to a budget during happy hour, when some 15 varieties are priced at $4 each, with one or two priced at $3.

When Eno's upstairs tavern opened up back in March, it became a favored destination for Oak Cliff's movers and shakers in a few short weeks, combining the pizza joint's already robust craft beer selection with big windows, a great view of downtown and a gorgeous, all-wood décor. There's not a TV to be found in here, so it's a nice place to meet friends or get to know your date with no Rangers-, Stars-, Mavs- or Cowboys-related distractions. And since Eno's full menu is available upstairs, the long wait for tables that once greeted hungry patrons is now largely a thing of the past. Parking is scarce on the weekends, though, so be prepared to walk a block or two. Or better yet, do the Oak Cliff thing and ride over on your bike—there's a nice rack on the side for parking, and it's one of the few places in Dallas where walking in with your helmet won't earn you funny looks from the locals.

What's your best friend like? Does she constantly bombard you with new and wacky gimmicks in a desperate attempt to hold your attention? No way. Your best friend got that title because he or she is consistently awesome. Dallas' best bar should be just like that, and La Grange, at less than a year old, has mastered reliable excellence faster than most watering holes that have been around for 10 times as long. Thirst-quenchers at the small-town themed "swanky-tonk" range from signature cocktails to a rotating selection of low-rent beers on draft. The jukebox harbors a minimum of pap, and the bar food (rock shrimp quesadillas!) is hand-crafted heaven on the cheap. The woodsy patio's a great place to hide—alone or with a partner—while the aurally inclined will appreciate owners Stephanie and Rob Schumaker booking Dallas' finest indie and country bands. Yee-homegrown-haw.

There are loads of generic honky-tonks all over the metroplex. They have giant dance floors where the Wrangler-wearing masses spend their weekends dancing to country bands that don't venture far from top 40 playlists. Adair's Saloon has virtually nothing in common with these places. Consider it the CBGB of honky-tonks. A small, well-worn dance floor stretches from one overly decorated wall to another. Local country acts The King Bucks and Boys Name Sue regularly whip line-dancing regulars into a frenzy with their take on old country standards and hilarious originals. But if you don't feel much like dancing, Adair's Saloon has one of the best burgers in town and plenty of cold Lone Star beer to help wash it down.

Take your favorite dive bar, slap on a fresh coat of paint and line the walls with a dream array of bar games, and you've got Dallasite—a gem of a neighborhood bar between two neighborhoods that draws a crowd from both because the drinks are cheap, the food is good and the electronics still work. If you run out of things to talk about with fellow drinkers between the Big Buck Hunter, the Friday night karaoke or the game on the big-screen TV, there's no social crutch in the world that can help you—in which case, that video lottery game in the corner may just be calling your name. More likely, though, you'll get lost in the eyes of a woman twice your age sharing a Charley Pride sing-along.

From its humble roots at a Best Western in Garland 14 years ago, QuakeCon has grown into an epic bring-your-own-computer happening, the largest free LAN party in the world—and if that doesn't mean much to you, well, you're probably not headed to QuakeCon anytime soon. Each summer, though, the "Woodstock of gaming" takes over one of Dallas' biggest resort hotels, with thousands of die-hard Quake and Doom devotees streaming in from around the world for a long weekend of virtual shoot-'em-up tournament action; keynote talks, packed with laser and smoke displays, from local id Software gurus; drinking at the hotel bar; and pretty much anything other than sleep.

Stiff drinks, hand-crafted snacks and dim lighting are par for the bar-course when it comes to things Dallasites demand in their nightlife, but they're hardly staples at comedy clubs, where overpriced booze gets served up alongside lukewarm nachos and some hack's life story. To the rescue: improv comics Amanda Austin and Clay Barton, who opened the Dallas Comedy House last year in an increasingly vigorous Deep Ellum. Offering high-quality improv classes on the cheap and stand-up comedy and variety shows seven nights a week, the Dallas Comedy House has brought in all kinds of folks searching for a spare meter along Commerce Street. Despite plentiful seating, the black-box DCH remains cozy, and the deceptively large stage supports a troupe of improv-ers or a lone stand-up with equal ease. But quality booze and service aside, the comedy at DCH hardly requires even a little funny bone-lubricating buzz.

There's church, and then there's The Church. Can you spot the difference? Both take place on Sunday and both rely on camaraderie. But at one, people sport leather-bound Bibles, while at the other people sport leather-bound booties. The latter takes place at the Lizard Lounge every Sunday and Thursday, where people put on their least-safe-for-work garb and gather for an all-night celebration of their individualism. The Church isn't for everyone, though. Unless you have a penchant for stomach-churning performance art pieces, gothy/dance musical performances and older men flaunting nipple rings and leather girdles, you might want to stick with old time religion. But more spiked-collar-clad people turn out for these weekly events than one might expect, despite it being an alternative club.

The trick here is that the Cool Thursdays evening concerts at the Arboretum aren't supposed to be free. It's 10 bucks a head plus seven more for parking for these pop concerts, April through July, none in August, then a fall series throughout September and October. But you can hear them all without paying a nickel and also enjoy a very eclectic scene simply by paddling or sailing your small craft to the foot of the Arboretum, just off E. Lawther Drive near the Garland Road entrance to White Rock Lake. Call the Arboretum at 214-515-6518 for concert information or look on their Web page at dallasarboretum.org/concerts.html. If you do speak to them, ask about all their prices and then be sure to say the Dallas Observer told you it would be free if you came in your kayak.

The first interfaith meditation center in North Texas also turns out to be a superbly silent place for prayer, meditation, reflection and just...being. At last, one spot on the planet where no one's cell phone goes off. Brother Chi-Sing, the center's young and cheerful lead instructor, teaches classes in various forms of meditation (Buddhist-based and not) and hosts several weekly groups that offer mind-quieting focus practice via chanting, singing and breathing. The center also has classes in yoga, qigong, Christian meditation and other paths to mindful living. Participation in all activities is by donation.

One of the most beautiful things about being human is our ability to communicate with language and build beautiful, inspiring things. But what's the fun of creation without its far more satisfying opposite, destruction? Truly, the makers of childhood favorite Jenga knew this—build it up and watch it topple, over and over again. But the kiddie Jenga-smiths weren't allowed to supersize the blocks and give you beer and cigarettes to consume during play. The Bryan Street Tavern, however, encourages patrons to construct massive, teetering towers while hopped up on alcohol and nicotine in the bar's lovely and spacious back yard. And before you say it, yeah, we know Barcadia offers a similar game. But if you don't want to be chewed out for accidentally spilling beer on some jerk's $130 T-shirt because your tower took a tumble, we suggest sticking with Bryan Street.

There's something perfect about the marriage of the blues and a well-stocked drinking establishment. On one side of the room, people express their anguish on guitars and other folk-based instruments. On the other side, patrons drink their woes away. Thing about Pearl At Commerce, though—everyone seems to be having a good time, and their burgeoning music scene is a reflection of that. The concert calendar features a nightly rotation of the area's top blues performers as well as national touring artists. While you can still get well-oiled on strong cocktails, the overall feeling here is happiness, which is somewhat at odds with the idea of the blues, but the folks at Pearl like it that way.

One of our favorite bars in the world, the Libertine has racked up awards for everything from Best Bar, Period to Best Bar Food (twice) to the very esoteric Best Place To Take The Marquis De Sade. And while it still richly deserves all of those accolades and more, we've got to spread the love. So this year, we salute the Libertine's happy hour. A flat dollar off beer, wine and liquor from 4 to 7 p.m. on weekdays makes it a bit easier to justify that Satan Red Belgian ale or shot of scotch. Or if you're feeling like a flapper girl, already reasonably priced classic cocktails like the Pimm's Cup are half off. Which leaves you that much more scratch to buy your buddy the Marquis de Sade a hanger steak sandwich.

It used to be that if you wanted to hear music in Uptown, your choices were a DJ's selection of club house or a guy with an acoustic guitar playing "American Pie." Now, thanks to the booking of Chelsea Callahan, you can hear live, original music in the least likely of neighborhoods. Better yet, the Wednesday night shows—which have included Doug Burr, RTB2, Glen Farris and other local favorites—are free. The only thing that could make it better would be if they happened more than once a week.

It's not just the multitude of phenomenal shows that the Granada Theater's booking agents bring to Lower Greenville that makes the renovated movie theater such a delightful place to catch a concert. Sure, that's part of it, but it's not the whole shebang. See, the Granada's great for a multitude of other reasons too: the friendly staff (deemed "serenity guards" rather than security guards), the pretty-darn-awesome food menu (we recommend the tacos) and, let's face it, the gorgeous old theater feel. And maybe it's cheesy, but we're also suckers for the whole feel-good vibe the theater puts out there—a sentiment best represented by the script painted above the venue's stage that reads "Love Yourself." It's the kind of thing a doting parent would tell their children. This is Dallas—we do love ourselves. It's time we told the Granada more often that we love what it has to offer, too.

It's hard to find a local website that focuses exclusively on local music. Bloggers and editors cover a hodgepodge of local goings-on mixed with interesting national stories. My Dallas Music is no exception, but what sets it apart is the depth of its local coverage and the social media aspect of the site. It's fairly new, but My Dallas Music has established itself with its solid coverage of the Denton music community with its previous project, My Denton Music. The new site features accurate concert reviews, in-depth feature stories and interviews with artists. It gets users plugged in by allowing them to create their own profiles, and keeps them updated with a relevant concert calendar that highlights upcoming shows. Creating a profile at My Dallas Music promises that you'll be up on local and national music news.

You know the old stereotypes about strip clubs. They're dark. They're seedy. They're fun. But when push comes to shove, they're filled with awkwardness and regret. Hold up, though, fans of naked women: Those sentiments don't apply to The Lodge, except for the fun part. Designed to look like a ski or hunting lodge, the place isn't your run-of-the-mill black-room-with-silver-poles establishment. No, this one has wood furnishing everywhere, and it's complemented by stone and brick adornments. It's tough not to be taken aback by it, actually, even if that's not what you came to see. Speaking of what you came to see, though: The ladies? Well, they're pretty nice, too. The Lodge, vehement in referring to itself as a "gentlemen's club" as opposed to a strip club, holds itself to a ridiculously high standard. The classy vibe of the place just trickles down throughout the entire establishment—and it seems to apply to the ladies, who walk around the place in gowns, rather than G-strings. It's just, well, tasteful, that's all. Tasty, too, by the way: The menu's legit. We recommend the club sandwich.

Sure, it's primarily a country bar with a huge wooden dance floor, line-dance lessons and DJs who spin a variety of classic, new and crossover pop country. But with six separate bars in this enormous Cedar Springs staple, it's not just urban cowboys having a good time. There's plenty of twang to satisfy the regulars every night, but the late-night high-energy dance music sets on weekends offer them and their country-challenged friends a break from the boot-scootin'. ManCandy Retro Sunday nights are all about having a blast from the glow-stick past, and four weekly karaoke nights give you a chance to show off your best impression of George Jones or Willie Nelson–or Lady Gaga or Mick Jagger, for that matter. If that doesn't do it for you, maybe the Mr. and Miss Roundup, Miss Gay Texas and bear competitions, or the Cowboys game-watching parties will. The crowd is primarily gay dudes, but fun-loving lesbians and breeders with a taste for country music—or those who just like to have a good time—are made to feel just as welcome.

The growth of culture on South Lamar in Dallas over the last few years has resulted in great restaurants, great concert venues, great retail and this little gem: Brooklyn Jazz Café. Home to some of the region's established and most talked-about jazz and R&B artists, Brookyn Jazz Café has live music almost every night of the week, as well as a $3 martini "Super Happy Hour" on Wednesday nights and a Sunday brunch. You'll typically hear a wide variety of smooth jazz, blues and old-school jazz, and you might even be inspired to get out of your seat and dance. Whether you're a seasoned jazz connoisseur or an entry-level jazz-head, you're sure to find something you'll enjoy at Brooklyn Jazz Café.

OK, so Gloria's isn't your typical reggaeton-pumping Latin club, but when it opens its dance floor each Friday and Saturday for an all-night salsa dancing sweat-fest, it's tough to find a more electric place anywhere in town. Whether the amazing Cuban band Havana NRG or the delicious (and deceptively strong) margaritas remove the most inhibitions, it's hard to say. To be certain, though, the opportunity to dance with beautiful women is enough to inspire any guy to learn as much as he can at the salsa lessons they start the night with. And look out ladies, because there are plenty of seasoned salsa pros out there ready to sweep you off your feet.

Here's our kind of drinking game: Order an uninitiated friend a cocktail or, better yet, whiskey on the rocks at The Loon. Then sit back and watch your pal's face as he has an internal debate about whether to say something to the server, like, "Excuse me, ma'am, but I didn't order a triple." The Loon, with its homey, pretense-free and clean but divey ambiance and satisfying food, doesn't need such enormous drinks to keep patrons coming back, but we're sure not complaining. A damn-near-tumbler-sized pour of booze makes us that much happier that we chose a quiet bar full of old alkies over some hip club-kid destination.

If there's anything more American than baseball and apple pie, it's getting tanked and stuffing yourself with fried food on a stick. So it's no wonder the Libertine's celebrated the last two Fourths of July with a 15-minute corn-dog eating contest. First and second place get bar tabs, third place wins a roll of quarters, and ties are broken with shots of tequila. It's billed as a "family event," but try telling that to the trash-talking girl pretending she's pregnant, or the overzealous cheerleader threatening everyone competing against his cousin. It's first-rate farce, the essence of an eating contest, and—win, lose or yak—guaranteed to ruin your day if you compete.

The Black Swan Saloon is a thin sliver of a thing on Elm Street in Deep Ellum, but what it lacks in width it makes up for in depth. Figuratively and literally—the back patio's a shady place for a smoke, but Gabe, a Ghostbar ex-pat who opened the Swan this year, gives the place its soul. Behind the bar, Gabe pours little cocktails that taste a lot like sweet, sweet love—we're talking apple-cured whiskey drinks and mixes of infused vodkas fashioned from whatever Gabe picked up at Farmers Market that week. Miles away from the Ghostbar's crotch-thrusting epicenter of $30,000 millionaire action, the skinny little Black Swan Saloon has quickly become the neighborhood favorite for Deep Ellum residents craving a spot to call their own. Find patrons playing Pac-Man near the bar's entrance or just grab a stool and listen to Gabe ramble on about his LA Lakers—it's almost quaint, really, considering the Swan's thoroughly Texan spirit.

Look, we know how silly we look holding a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. It's cheap, flavorless, crappy American lager that has inexplicably become the drink of choice for hipsters trying to affect some kind of facetious blue-collar aesthetic. But when we're at City Tavern, we're drinking it all night. Because for $4, you can get a shot of Jack Daniel's whiskey with a PBR chaser any time, any day of the week. Whether you're there for the simple but tasty fried bar grub or the excellent Home Sessions local rock, folk and country shows, be sure to keep both hands free for PBR and his buddy JD.

For years, Frisco residents have had to drive to Denton, Dallas or Fort Worth to hear worthwhile live music. Now, while you couldn't quite say the tables have turned, Dallas music fans actually have a reason to take their turns doing the 45-minute drive, and we're not talking about Jimmy Buffet concerts at Pizza Hut Park. Thanks in part to a booking partnership with Spune Productions, Lochrann's has started inviting original folk, rock and country acts to perform on its stage, including some of our favorite Dallas Observer Music Award nominees. In fact, the bill for the Oysterfest Gulf Aid benefit show September 25 includes the frontman of Old 97's himself, Rhett Miller, along with a host of other great acts. Here's hoping more Frisco bars follow suit and give the cover bands a night off once in a while.