Collage by Grant Butler, The Oregonian/OregonLive

On any given night, thousands of Portlanders hit the town in search of drinks, dancing and live music. Whether it’s chatting with friends over cocktails at the rooftop lounge at downtown’s Departure or hitting the dance floor for a little boot-scooting at Southeast’s Duke’s Bar & Grill, the city percolates with nocturnal music and motion.

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Tim LaBarge, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

Portland’s nightlife has changed a lot over the years. In the heyday of downtown going-out in the 1950s, people got dressed up and headed to ritzy supper clubs, where they might see live singers, or even a water show, complete with synchronized swimmers. Fast forward to the 1970s and ‘80s, when DJs helped fill the dance floors with hard-thumping disco and New Wave hits, while the city saw a resurgence of live jazz.

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Carol Archer, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

In the early 1990s, Portland became one of the epicenters for live rock music, with clubs like Satyricon and X-ray Café hosting bands that would become some of the biggest names in grunge rock. That segued to DJs spinning electronica and house music, along with a dicey few years when violence cast a pall over the night scene.

Put on your acid-washed jeans and neon shirts as we journey back in time to see how Portland’s nightclubs have changed over the decades.

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Brian Feulner, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The 2000s - Swanky clubs and plenty of skin

A decade ago, Portland nightclubs were all about swank. In the 2000s, many clubs offered posh settings for sipping elaborate cocktails while flirty with cute guys or girls. Going out on weekends became an occasion to get dressed up – something of a feat in Portland, which is known more for lumberjack shirts and sandals than cocktail dresses and pumps.

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Beth Nakamura, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Aura

One of the poshest nightclubs of the early 2000s was Aura, which was perched on West Burnside Street directly across from Powell’s Books. The place positively glowed before you even walked through the door, thanks to oversized windows lit in ever-changing shades of purple, green, blue and red. Once inside, the swirls of color continued on a large projection screen that divided the warehouse-sized place into two distinct spaces -- cocktail lounge up front, moody DJ pit in back.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Aura was opened by the owners of the nearby gay bars Panorama and Boxxes, and going there was an immersive experience. Cocktails were named after colors, served from backlit bars. DJs spinned a mix of house and lounge beats, and the restrooms were one of the most-unique in the city: Thanks to one-way mirrors, you could look out into the club while washing your hands. Think of it as reverse voyeurism. The large space was carved up to make way for the Union Way alley of shops.

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Stephanie Yao Long, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Barracuda

Old Town’s Barracuda was one of the most-popular nightclubs in the 2000s, with legions of people in their 20s drawn to its 1,500-square-foot dance floor. When not dancing, couples could nestle into curtained cabanas. The sound was a mix of ‘90s hits and hip-hop. Run by Concept Entertainment Group, it was highly-profitable until a gang-related shooting in 2010 left a 19-year-old dead on the street in front of the club. Barracuda’s reputation never recovered from the violence, and closed in 2012.

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Jamie Francis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Berbati's Pan

Here’s how The Oregonian described this Old Town music venue and nightclub in 1998: “Too much publicity can be a bad thing. Wednesdays at Club Love once were considered by many ‘insiders’ as the coolest scene. It's still a night to put on Doc Martens and spatter some glitter around the eyes, but letting the so-called ‘mainstream’ in on the secret left many edge seekers disillusioned and pining for the days of early '97. Let this be a lesson: Too much attention and bye-bye boom days, hello doomsday.”

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Basil Childers, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

Actually, Berbati’s Pan was a whole lot more than Club Love. It opened back in 1994, as an offshoot to Berbati’s Restaurant, and featured an eclectic array of live music and DJs over the years. Pink Martini played there in the group’s early years, when a small venue was perfect for catching them while they were more campy than classy. Bigger acts played the intimate space, too (Dido, Ryan Adams, Nelly Furtado, Stellastarr and TV on the Radio). And it was a place to hear local favorites, like Cool Nutz and We’re From Japan! The Pan closed after New Year’s Eve 2010, and the space was taken over by the tourist destination Voodoo Doughnut next door.

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Stephanie Yao Long, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Bettie Ford

The name of this downtown nightclub was a sly nod to former first lady Betty Ford and her namesake clinic for addictions (the spelling change was intentional to avoid legal wrangling. Even the signage and lighting had a clinical feel. But the mission of Bettie Ford was focused on what happens before the road to recovery. The bar, which served cocktails with names like Candy Striper and 12th Step, featured gauze-curtained banquettes in the front, which led to a packed dance floor in the back.

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Stephanie Yao Long, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The vibe at Bettie Ford was more hip L.A. than Stumptown, and the crowd was young professionals, along with a few celebrity sightings (the Blacked Eyed Peas and sports pariah Lance Armstrong were spotted here). "This is the No. 1 club in Portland," clubgoer Heather Foley told The Oregonian in 2007. "The staff is sexy, the people are classy not trashy -- breadwinners, not golddiggers." The space was later converted into a restaurant and an ice cream shop.

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Fredrick D. Joe, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Boogie Woogies

One of the oddest wrinkles in early 2000s nightlife was the short-lived popularity of the piano bar Boogie Woogies, which opened in 2001 in a dilapidated space on Southwest Second Avenue, and featured raucous dueling piano players who would goad the crowd into singing while telling dirty jokes. Here, piano player Jim Fontano asked for some crowd participation. But the jokes died quickly, and Boogie Woogies was gone in less than two years.

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Leah Nash, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

Dante's

Dante's opened in 2000 at the corner of West Burnside and Third Avenue, and has been going strong ever since. Named for the 13th century Italian writer who wrote "The Divine Comedy," the focus is more on inferno than paradise, with fire dancers, Sinferno Cabaret, and Karaoke From Hell among regularly occurring events. Many nights feature live music from out-of-town bands, but for much of the 2000s, the club's biggest draw were weekly gigs by singer Storm Large and her group The Balls. Large would draw national attention when she appeared on the reality show "Rock Star: Supernova," and now does performances around the world with symphony orchestras and with the Portland-based band Pink Martini. But she got her start here with the fire pit and the strong Red Bull drinks.

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Amiran White, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

Dixie Tavern

This Southern-fried rock and roll bar, which opened in 2005 at Northwest Third Avenue and Couch Street, is known for female bartenders who dance on the countertops to Bon Jovi and Lynyrd Skynyrd – very "Coyote Ugly," circa 2000. Dixie Tavern may not be trendy, but it's one of Old Town's most-popular bars. "It's really fun working here," bartender Jessica Randol told The Oregonian in 2010.

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Michael Lloyd, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Doug Fir Lounge

The "lumberjack chic" Doug Fir Lounge opened in 2004 in the Jupiter Hotel, just as the lower East Burnside nightlife district was starting to emerge, and has been an anchor for the area ever since. The upstairs restaurant is known for comfort food and some of the city's best onion rings. But the real gem is the downstairs lounge, which is one of the best smaller music venues in the city. Over the years, you've been able to catch local acts like the duo Quasi, along with upcoming national acts – the late Sharon Jones played a couple of notable gigs here with her band the Dap Kings in 2005 and 2007. Because the room is intimate, you're never far from the stage.

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Doug Beghtel, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Duke's Bar and Grill

This massive Southeast Division club is the place for up-to-date urban cowboys. Duke's has a dancefloor big enough to hold 400 people, along with two distinct bar spaces. On Thursdays, it's Ladies Night, with no cover charge for women. It has a history of special events where people are encouraged to show off a little flesh, like this "Boots & Bikinis" night from 2005, or regular engagements at the club by the Australian male stripper group Thunder from Down Under. Unlike some clubs, where the music is always fast-tempo, Duke's DJs work slow dances into the mix. If you're not sure how to line-dance, there's a free class at 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian

Fernando's Hideaway

The name of this club is a play on the song “Hernando’s Hideaway” from the musical "The Pajama Game." The reason for the twist? The Spanish tapas den, which opened in 1995, was owned by Fernando Moreno. During the early evening, it was a Spanish restaurant serving a full menu of tapas. But the real action started late at night, when the romantic setting on the restaurant’s second floor featured Latin dancing. The Hideaway closed in 2007 (and briefly became an upscale sex club owned by famously gross porn star Ron Jeremy!).

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Fredrick D. Joe, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Goodfoot Lounge

The Goodfoot Lounge off of Southeast 28th and Stark was a place to hear emerging DJs from the early 2000s to now, like Chef B., who went though his extensive collection of 45s while spinning records there in 2002. On Fridays, it's the home of Soul Stew, Portland's longest running DJ Dance Night, featuring DJ Aquaman (Eric Hedford, a former member of The Dandy Warhols) with guests.

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Fredrick D. Joe, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Holocene

When this Southeast Morrison performance space opened in 2003, The Oregonian declared "Holocene is anything but a hollow scene." True enough, the club's catchy name wasn't an ironic commentary on Portland nightlife, but a reference to the geological era encompassing human history. That may be a curiosity, but over the years, it has become a dependable venue for eclectic music and a mix of edgy performance art. The crowd is eastsiders in their 20s and 30s, sipping fancy cocktails and listening to DJs.

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Patrick Sullivan, The Oregonian/OregonLive

H2O Martini Bar

Barfly magazine dubbed this nightspot in downtown’s Yamhill District the “Waterworld of clubs” (a reference to the epic Kevin Costner stinker), faulting it for its crowd of dressed-up corporate types and suburbanites, high cover charges and over-priced drinks. The restaurant featured several colorfully-lit water features, but couldn’t stay afloat after losing its liquor license following reports of drunken brawls by people so intoxicated they could barely stand up.

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Stephanie Yao Long, The Oregonian

Jimmy Mak's

Jimmy Makrounis first opened this jazz club/Greek restaurant at the corner of Northwest 10th Avenue and Everett Street in 1996, before moving it a half block south a few years later. Downbeat magazine called it one of the 100 best places to hear live jazz, and the club became a regular home for local musicians, along with big-name national acts. The menu featured Greek dips, spanakopita, and hand-cut fries that were perfect for munching along with the beat. Jimmy Mak's closed on New Year's Eve, and Makrounis died from cancer the following day. For Portland jazz fans, it was the ultimate heartbreak.

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Stephanie Yao Long, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Lola's Room

The little sister of the Crystal Ballroom opened in 2000, and became (and remains) a popular destination on Fridays, when it hosts the '80s Video Dance Attack. A big-screen TV shows vintage videos, while the "floating" floor offers plenty of bounce. The space has room for 350 people, making it an intimate venue to hear live music.

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Faith Cathcart, The Oregonian/OregonLive

For a while, Lola's also was home to the twice-monthly Bhangra dance party, hosted by DJ Prashant. The music was Indian pop, and featured dance lessons where people could learn the latest Bhangra moves.

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Fredrick D. Joe, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Lush

In the early 2000s, one of the most-popular Old Town clubs was Lush, which featured an elaborately decorated basement lounge featuring leopard-print carpeting and leather seats, where people in their 20s sipped colorful cocktails while flirting. The main floor restaurant was a total misfire, though, and in 2005, the owners changed its concept into a multi-floor strip club.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Noche Fusion Latina

This short-lived Franco-Cuban nightclub and restaurant opened in Old Town in 2005 in the old Jazz de Opus space, offering intimate settings, rich warm tones of polished wood, stained glass, and candlelight. Spicy salsa and merengue pepper the dance floor, and there were dance lessons for people looking to learn sizzling steps. But it struggled (like many nearby clubs) after a series of late-night shootings made some clubgoers feel it wasn’t safe to go out in downtown. The space later became a strip club.

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Bill Putnam, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

Ohm and Voodoo Lounge

This Old Town nightclub, which took over the home of 1980s hot-spot Key Largo, offered a place for fans of original electronic live music instead of DJs spinning other people’s music. Co-owned by Portland rock legend Dan Reed, it served a niche market. "I'm finding the biggest challenge is having acts that are so talented, but don't have enough of a draw to (allow me) to book them on a Friday night," Reed said in 2003. "It's that balancing act between presenting what's really good and interesting, and staying in business."

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Bob Ellis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

When Dan Reed left the business, the club changed its name to Voodoo Lounge and featured a Mardi Gras theme, as if every day were Fat Tuesday. Despite the "Let the good times roll" spirit, the club had a strict dress code that didn't allow T-shirts or pants with holes. Voodoo continued to be a popular venue with the college-aged crowd through most of the 2000s, but became a target of the OLCC after developing a reputation for intoxicated crowds getting out of control. It closed in 2009. The space is now home to The Whiskey Bar.

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Stephanie Yao Long, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Pi-rem

This Old Town nightclub, which opened in 2006, was literally underground – it was located in the basement of an office building on Northwest Fourth Avenue. But it had a sleek vibe. The three-part space – bar, lounge and dance floor, offered live electronica and DJs. "There's no attitude, but people have respect for each other here," said clubgoer Kevin Shank in 2007. But the mix of mood and music didn’t draw enough crowds and closed later that year.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Polly Esther nightclub

People love nostalgia, so you would think a 1970s and ‘80s-themed nightclub might click with Generation Xers looking to plug back into their youths. In 2000, Polly Esther offered a place to dance to “Greased Lightning,” “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go,” and disco-era favorites. It seemed the perfect counterpoint to the techno music that dominated nightclubs at the time. But the spot on Southwest Fourth Avenue didn’t last, and later became a series of sports bars.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Tube

This Old Town watering hole opened in 2001, and its unique look set it apart from other bars. The exterior resembled a 1950s-era television set, and once you got inside, the tunnel theme continued. Since then, there have been some design changes to the interior to accommodate more patrons, and today DJs dominate the scene and it’s continues be a popular spot, though there have been ownership changes.

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Leah Nash, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Zone

This downtown all-ages club at Southwest Second Avenue and Pine Street, was a series of under-age nightclubs dating back to the 1980s. It was meant to be a safe and fun space, and in its early days, was home to theme nights like pajama parties. But in January 2009, it became the site of Portland's worst mass shooting, when a 24-year-old Milwaukie man fired into the crowd outside the club's entrance, leaving two people dead and seven injured, along with the gunman, who fatally shot himself. The club never recovered from the violence, and closed a few months later. The violence outside The Zone gave many people the impression that downtown Portland wasn't a safe place to go out. That, combined with the tanking economy at the time, contributed to the closure of several other clubs. The space is now the upscale food hall Pine Street Market.

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Oregonian/OregonLive file photo

The 1990s - Grunge rock and house music take over

In the 1990s, Portland still had its gritty edge. The Blitz-Weinhard brewery was still rattling bottles in the Pearl District. Filmmaker Gus Van Sant was using downtown’s dilapidated buildings as settings for “My Own Private Idaho.” And the industrial eastside was truly that. That made it the perfect setting for clubs showcasing grunge rock early in the decade, merging into DJs as time went on.

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Paul Kitagaki Jr., The Oregonian/OregonLive

The 1201 Cafe & Lounge

In the 1990s, people in their 20s and 30s discovered elaborate cocktails in a nightlife movement that was dubbed “Cocktail Nation.” One of the most-popular places to enjoy fancy sips was this downtown lounge, where the crowd had a reputation for getting dressed up. The candy-colored interior was home to live music on many nights, and groups like Pink Martini and Dandy Warhols played some of their earliest gigs here.

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Tim LaBarge, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

On other nights, DJs kept the turntables spinning, and the club featured a mix of local talent and national DJs, playing everything from underground house music to old-school hip hop. The space later became Brazil Grill.

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Brent Wojahn, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Gypsy Restaurant and Velvet Lounge

This Northwest 21st Avenue nightclub opened in 1947 in the space that currently is Muu-Muu’s, then moved across the street in 1963. In the early ‘90s, it was bought by Concept Entertainment, which ran several Old Town nightclubs like Barracuda and Quest. During this period, the Gypsy was a key player in the Cocktail Nation movement, and became known for spirited karaoke, happy hour specials, cocktails served in fishbowl-style glasses, and viewing parties for popular TV shows. In early 2014, the Gypsy closed abruptly, and quickly became a neighborhood eyesore before being torn down last year. It’s currently a construction site for a new apartment building.

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John Klicker, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

La Luna

Long before the lower east Burnside neighborhood became a nightlife hotspot, La Luna was a rock mecca that hosted a mix of local and national acts. Over the span of six years, more than 1,700 concerts took place at the club on Southeast Ninth Avenue. Those gigs included emerging regional acts, like the Dandy Warhols, Sweaty Nipples, Hazel and Everclear that would go on to national prominence. After closing in 1999, it was briefly an all-ages club. The building is now home to Biwa Japanese restaurant and office space.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Lotus Cardroom & Cafe

Not many nightspots last for 92 years, but downtown’s Lotus Cardroom and Café kept Portland in spirits from the Prohibition 1920s all the way through last year. The “cardroom” was the large bar area, where there was the first legal gambling in Portland. But its peak may have been in the early 1990s, when DJs kept the dance floor filled, as seen in this 1994 photo.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Part of what attracted the big crowds to the Lotus Cardroom & Café’s dance floor was its affordability. In 1992, the nightly cover charge was just $2. This photo shows the view of the dance floor from a suspended cage where people could dance above the crowd. The Lotus building is scheduled to be demolished to make way for a high-rise hotel.

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Faith Cathcart, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Refectory Grill

While a lot of Portland’s nightlife was centered downtown in the ‘90s, Northeast Portland's Refectory Grill was almost always hopping. Located at Northeast 122nd and Halsey, it opened in the mid-‘80s, and hit its peak popularity in the Clinton era, when it packed in more than 400 people on weekend nights for dinner, followed by dancing and drinking. "When we were in our heyday, from about 1985 to 2003, we were probably serving 250 dinners on Friday and 250 more on Saturday," owner Mitch Stanley told The Oregonian when the restaurant closed in 2013. "We had commercials going in The Oregonian and on the radio on Z-100. We had the best of both worlds. You could come here for the prime rib, or you could come in for the dancing."

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Faith Cathcart, The Oregonian/OregonLive

One of the coolest things about The Refectory was its diverse crowd. Young and old came here, and there was a mix of blue-collar folks hanging out in the sports bar area of the club, while younger people flocked to the dance floor. The crowd pulled largely from east county, though people would come here from the Gorge and places further east.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Satyricon

This Old Town nightclub on Northwest Sixth Avenue had a long run, opening in 1983 and staying open until 2010. But its heyday was the 1990s, when it became the place to hear many emerging bands of grunge rock before they hit it big, including Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Mudhoney and Heatmiser (fronted by the late Elliott Smith). In Satyricon’s early years, the neighborhood surrounding it was gritty, making it the perfect setting for a club hosting punk rock groups. The original incarnation of Satyricon closed in 2003, though an all-ages club continued to operate under the same name until 2010. Upon its final closure (the building was torn down the next year), Oregonian music critic Marty Hughley marveled at its staying power: “No place lasted as long, hosted as great or as varied a roster of musicians and other artists, or created such a distinct and powerful social gravity.”

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Tiger Bar

When Tiger Bar opened in 1997 on Northwest Broadway, bridging the gap between Old Town and the then-industrial Pearl District, Oregonian columnist Jonathan Nicholas marveled at its edginess:

“Question … In the way-beyond-hip, just-one-more-martini world that is Portland after dark, where do you turn to find the really cool people?

“You know, the ones with the shaved heads and the big tattoos … the ones chewing on cigars and talking dirty … the ones wearing see-through dresses while flirting with their boy toys dressed in black?

“Where do you look to catch this kind of action?

“Answer: Two words.

“Tiger Bar.”

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Roger Jensen, The Oregonian/OregonLive

You had to use a little bit of intuition to find Tiger Bar. Instead of a regular sign, the exterior boasted only tiger stripes. In this 1997 photo, owner Greg Gilbert gets a light from his chef Ben Stockman on the tiger-striped bar. In the 2000s, the bar became the Thursday night home to Karaoke From Hell, where you could sing with a live band, not pre-recorded music. Tiger Bar closed in 2014, and is now Stag, a gay nightclub featuring male strippers.

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Tom Treik, The Oregonian/OregonLive

X-Ray Cafe

In the early 1990s, all-age rockers flocked to Third and West Burnside’s X-Ray Café, where Portland bands like Hazel and Crackerbash found a home in what some called “Shangri-La on a shoestring.” Co-owners Ben Ellis (above, left) and Tres Shannon (who would go on to fame founding Voodoo Doughnut – the original location is just around the corner on Southwest Third Avenue) created a nightclub that was noisy, smoky and covered with graffiti.

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Elaine Schumake, The Oregonian

But the X-Ray party was short-lived. In 1994, Ellis and Shannon decided to sell off some of the club’s décor to pay off debt and close the X-Ray for good. Oregonian music critic Marty Hughley captured the club’s wide-ranging appeal: “To those with an open-minded aesthetic and a love of the abundant ironies of pop culture, the X-Ray was a haven of creativity, unpredictability and fun. With its Goodwill-bin decor and anything-goes environment, the club attracted a mix of students, street poets and stragglers. And in its nearly four years of existence, it presented a unique variety of entertainment -- music ranging from punk to country to avant-garde, poetry and plays, weekly sewing circles and primal-scream therapy sessions, slumber parties and Sunday brunches.”

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The 1980s and '90s - Under-age clubs grow up

Young people who are under the legal age for drinking alcohol have always needed a place to hang out. But by the 1980s, the era of the soda fountain was a distant memory, and under-age nightclubs emerged to give teens a safe space on weekends. But their emergence wasn’t without drama. Some downtown businesses complained about teenagers hanging out in parking lots. The solution: Clubs began charging teens a re-entry fee if they left the club and came back later.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Skoochies

This all-ages nightclub on Southwest Second Avenue was an offshoot to Seattle’s Skoochies, and was the place to hear music by mid-1980s groups like Wang Chung and Depeche Mode before they became hits. It caused controversy when it stopped charging re-entry fees when people left the club, raising concerns about drug use in Old Town. Skoochies closed in 1987, and later became the all-ages venues Confetti Club and Quest.

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Tom Treik, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Warehouse

In 1987, The Oregonian described the Warehouse as “the biggest all-city high school party in Portland. It's like any gathering of urban adolescents: girls with hair dyed Madonna platinum; guys with enough mousse on their heads to shape their tresses into eight-point antlers. They dance to loud music, drink sodas, flirt, pick each other up, and then, eventually, they go home.”

In this 1987 photo, Kevin Keilman (left), then 18, Bryan Withermax, 19, and Aaron Pelley, 17, all of Portland, hang out on the club’s mezzanine, where a colorful mural reflected a bit of New Wave flair.

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Tom Treik, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Warehouse was located in an actual warehouse on Southeast Second Avenue in the industrial eastside district. That large space made for a perfect dancefloor, where strobe lights blurred the action. The space has been a series of venues, most-recently the now-closed Branx.

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Carole Archer, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

Quest

In 1998, here’s how The Oregonian described this Old Town all-ages club, which took over the space that had been Skoochies and Confetti Club. “The teeny-bop crowd forges ahead with the best retread dance hits Puff Daddy can hijack. If you're over 21 go home. If you look like a dork, the security guards reserve the right to deny entrance. Remember when you were 18 and were convinced that these weekends were pivotal moments? It still happens. Stylish male set wears metallic parkas with hats hanging low over the eyebrows, while females prefer dainty halter tops. The beat goes thump all night long.”

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Carole Archer, Special to The Oregonian/OregonLive

At the peak of its popularity in the early 2000s, more than 2,000 teens came to Quest each week. Kids would crowd onto the dance floor in trendy clothes – tight skirts, overalls without a shirt. At one point, it was so popular that its owners hoped to build a chain of cookie-cutter Quests throughout the west. Those plans didn't pan out, though. Quest later became The Zone, which in 2009 became the site of Portland's worst mass shooting, which forced it to close. It now is the upscale food hall Pine Street Market.

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Elaine Schumake, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Up Front/FX

And here’s how the same Oregonian article described this all-ages club on Southwest Naito Parkway: “Long lines of all-age posers ready to mug on the dance floor. Yo, wassup! Was that Vanilla Ice over there? No, it couldn't be. And over there, is that MC Hammer? And you over there, are you in Menudo? Guys wear Starter jerseys and Nike sweats; some even wear Calvin Klein a la Marky Mark. Girls drape themselves in slinky dresses or get out the shoehorn to wedge on those tight jeans.” The club later dropped the “Up Front” and just became known as FX. It also ditched the all-ages format to become a drinking venue. The space is currently vacant with butcher paper covering the windows.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The 1980s - Large clubs boom, jazz heats up, and tight jeans rule!

Whether your 1980s soundtrack was a mix of Bananarama and Eurythmics, or a homegrown blues by Paul deLay, there was a Portland nightclub that was right for you. All you needed was big hair and a cute top from Casual Corner.

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Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian/OregonLive

13th Precinct

This early 1980s punk rock venue on Southwest 13th Avenue started out as an all-ages venue, opening in 1983 in a former restaurant space. But a year later, co-owner Chris Gloekler closed the club briefly, reopening with a beer and wine license. The next year, the band Suicidal Tendencies played there -- quite the get for a small nightclub.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Cafe Vivo

In the late 1980s and early ‘90s, this sleek restaurant on the ground floor of downtown’s US Bancorp tower wasn’t known for its food. The Oregonian described the Italian menu as having an identity crisis in a scathing 1986 review. But the bar was one of the city’s best places to hear live jazz and blues. Curtis Salgado and Tom Grant played here regularly, and national acts were known to drop by when they were in town. Crowds for live music dwindled, and Vivo closed in 1993. The space is now a health club.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Dakota Cafe

In the 1980s, this large restaurant and nightclub at the corner of Southwest Broadway and Oak Street was one of downtown’s most-popular places on weekend nights. Lines of college-aged people would snake down the sidewalk past the U.S. Outdoor Store. While waiting to get in, the crowd was frequently serenaded by buskers. During the day and dinner hours, there was an unremarkable menu of comfort food. But as the evenings wore on, the action moved to the room where bands played and music fans sipped on $1 well drinks. In the early ‘90s, though, the crowds thinned and the Dakota sought bankruptcy protection in the wake of several lawsuits.

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The Oregonian/OregonLive file photo

Key Largo

In the 1980s, this Old Town nightclub on Northwest First Avenue was one of the city’s best smaller music venues, hosting national acts like the BoDeans, along with local acts like the Dharma Bums and Paul deLay and his blues band. As the name implied, there was a southern Florida vibe – think palm trees and Jimmy Buffet when there wasn’t live music. In 2010, former owner Tony DeMicoli reflected on its long run for The Oregonian: “I think Key Largo was a true club, because people became regulars there and really felt a part of it. I miss the success stories, the bands that came and built a following and put together a little piece of their dream there. I miss feeling like a part of that – I always liked being a promoter more than being a bar owner.” Key Largo kept going until early 1999, when it became the electronica venue Ohm.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Last Hurrah

This basement club, which opened in 1975, was located across Southwest Alder Street from the old Meier & Frank downtown loading dock. In mid-‘80s, it was the launchpad for groups like Nu Shooz, Quarterflash, and artists like Kenny G and Robert Cray, who would go on to fame and big record deals. Its 12-year run came to an end in 1987.

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Bill Murphy, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Luis' La Bamba Club

This club opened in 1981, in Old Town’s New Market Theater building, and in its very short run (it closed two years later), it became an essential part of Portland’s music scene, showcasing every style of rock as well as stand-up comedy. Oregonian columnist Jonathan Nicholas mused on its closure: “Every city needs one. I’m not talking about a symphony orchestra or a singles bar, a ballet corps or even a basketball team. I’m talking about a club that is ‘the’ place in town … a home for the homeless, a refuge for the restless, a resting ground for the night owls who only spread their wings after dark. In Portland, ‘the’ place was Luis’ La Bamba.” The place was run by Tony DeMicoli, who would go onto bigger things running Key Largo.

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Tom Treick, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Remo's

This Italian restaurant opened in 1983 in an old firehouse on Northwest Glisan Street. The upstairs dining room featured pasta dishes and fancy desserts. But the real action was in the downstairs lounge, which featured live jazz nightly, including this set by Sandra Simmons and Calvin Walker, performing with drummer Carlton Jackson, bassist Kevin Dietz and pianist Joe Heinermann. Magic happened every Sunday night, when drummer Ron Steen hosted a weekly jazz jam, which often attracted the talents of pianist Tom Grant and sax player Jay Collins. The music lasted until 1991 when the business faced foreclosure. Touché Restaurant & Bar has been in the space since 1995, but closed earlier this month.

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Thomas Boyd, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The New Copper Penny

This large nightclub at Southeast 92nd Avenue and Foster Road opened as a tavern in 1973, and became the place to be as it grew into a popular place for dancing in the 1980s. Its red-glowing penny sign, which faced Interstate 205, was easily the most-recognizable landmark in the Lents neighborhood, and that glowing profile attracted people from all over the city. Over the decades, the club’s biggest draws were its rotating lineup of DJs, who would play the hits to a packed dancefloor on weekend nights.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Like most nightclubs, the key to success was drawing customers on slower weeknights. While some places offered discounted drinks or no cover charge, the New Copper Penny’s approach to slow nights was gimmicks, like its infamous Tight Jeans Contest, when guys and girls in Levi’s and Guess jeans could win a $400 cash prize when the crowd voted for who had the best buns – super classy!

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Jamie Francis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

In 1991, after years of squabbling with next door’s Hank’s Rose Lantern Tavern, the owners of New Copper Penny bought the bar and converted it into the Pantheon banquet hall, which became the spot for everything from weddings to neighborhood association meetings. The Penny also featured a dayside bar and off-track betting.

Over the years, the New Copper Penny developed a rough reputation, and it stopped attracting people from the westside as downtown clubs became more popular. In 2012 and 2014, shootings outside the club put it on the radar of Portland’s Gang Enforcement Team. Last year, the club was sold to real estate developers and the buildings were later demolished.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Shanghai Lounge

In 1985, the River Place development on the Willamette waterfront was brand-spanking new, and McCormick and Schmick’s Harborside Restaurant featured the Shanghai Lounge, a popular place for dancing and drinking elaborate cocktails. The bar featured live bands nightly, including the popular Portland bands U-Krew and Crazy 8's.

In 1989, The Oregonian described the scene: “The crowd is younger and trendier. You might spot the occasional man wearing an earring or men and women wearing -- not just carrying -- articles made of leather. It is also a later crowd -- the Shanghai is notorious for long lines, but at 10 there is none. The place doesn't really go Szechwan until 11 or 11:30. Unlike most Portland nightspots with live music, the Shanghai has no cover charge, no small factor in its popularity.”

In 1992, the Shanghai shuttered and became the Harborside's Pilsner Room.

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The 1980s - Gay nightlife comes out of the shadows

At the dawn of the 1980s, Portland’s gay nightlife was on the down-low. But as the decade progressed, its visibility increased, empowered in part by the need to stand up against the AIDS crisis and anti-gay groups like the Oregon Citizens Alliance. At a time when things like marriage equality seemed an impossibility, gay clubs offered a place to escape and be yourself.

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Tom Treick, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Embers Avenue

The long-running gay nightclub and showbar Embers Avenue has been around more than four decades. Its original downtown location opened in the early 1970s on Southwest Park Avenue across from what's now Nordstrom (seen here in 1981). At the time, The Embers was the location of a number of violent acts that were labeled "gay bashing," and were later linked to neo-Nazism, which was growing in Portland at the time. In the '80s, it moved to its current location on Northwest Broadway, where the rainbow flags fly proudly out front, and things are equally colorful inside. The club features drag queens in its front bar doing lip-syncs of classic songs, and dancing in the second bar in the back, where there's a catwalk for people to strut their stuff. During Portland's pride celebration each June, the Embers' sidewalk is one of the best spots for watching the parade.

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Jamie Francis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Pink Triangle

In the 1980s and '90s, the epicenter of Portland's gay nightlife was an area dubbed the Pink Triangle (the official name for the blocks is the Burnside Triangle), a nod to the symbol used to identify gays in World War II concentration camps, but also the physical make-up of the triangular-shaped blocks between West Burnside and Southwest Stark streets between 11th and 13th Avenue. In these blocks, there were bars ranging from The Eagle, which catered to the leather-wearing crowd, to the original home of CC Slaughters, which was in the space now occupied by Clyde Common restaurant before moving to its current Old Town location.

The original location of the bar Scandals, which opened in 1979 in the space that's home to Kenny & Zuke's Delicatessen, was notable for its plate-glass windows, which made a statement to the world that a gay bar had nothing to hide. Seems a minor thing now, but it was borderline revolutionary at the time.

The Pink Triangle in the 1980s and ‘90s had a gritty quality to it. It also had a potent mix of smells – heavy amounts of Obsession, Drakkar Noir and Polo colognes that were popular at the time, plus the smell of hops from the Blitz-Weinhard Brewery, which was just across Burnside and was brewing beer around the clock.

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Jamie Francis, The Oregonian/OregonLive (Boxxes dancer shot)

The biggest anchor of the Pink Triangle was a trio of inter-connected bars: the video-themed bar Boxxes, the jail-themed dance club The Brig, and the massive dance club Panorama. On many nights, you could pay one cover charge, gaining access to all three bars, plus the hopelessly outdated seafood restaurant The Fish Grotto, which had been around for decades before it became connected with gay nightclubs.

Boxxes usually was the starting spot for an evening at the complex, since it opened during the afternoon, and drew customers early in the evening with special events like viewing parties of the TV show “Dynasty” (this was the ‘80s, after all). At other times, the bar showed music videos on its TV screens, another still-new thing in the early MTV era. Later, after music videos became less of a novelty, Boxxes would add go-go dancers.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Around 10 p.m. most nights, bartenders would unlock the doors to the adjacent bar The Brig, and the crowd would gravitate over to the large dance floor, which was surrounded by bars, completing the odd military jail theme. On weekends, the dance floor stayed open long after last call, giving people a place to hang out into the wee hours – perhaps even until it was time for breakfast at The Roxy diner up the street. The Brig was later renamed the Red Cap Garage.

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Elaine Schumake, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The final club in the trio was Panorama, which attracted many straight people, though a sign at the entrance made it clear that this was a gay club, and that if people had a problem with that they could hit the pavement.

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The Oregonian/OregonLive file photo

Panorama featured two dance floors, which on occasion were covered with suds for “foam parties,” which was a thing in the early 2000s. Most nights, though, the booty shaking was to a mix of pop and 1980s techno.

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Olivia Bucks, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The Pink Triangle isn't very pink anymore. In the last decade, gentrification of downtown's west end has changed the nature of Southwest Stark Street, bringing with it higher rents and new development. The Ace Hotel brought in out-of-town tourists, while the Panorama-Brig-Boxxes complex became Living Room Theaters and the Union Way alley of boutiques. The gay bathhouse Club Portland closed, and the bar Silverado moved to Old Town. The building that housed both was massively renovated to become McMenamins Crystal Hotel. One of the few survivors is Scandals, which moved up the street to the space vacated by the dingy gay strip club Three Sisters.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The City Nightclub

This all-ages gay club got its start in 1983 on Southwest Morrison Street before moving to a larger warehouse space in 1989 on Northwest 13th Avenue (across from what now are the loading docks of the Pearl District’s Whole Foods. The Pearl District in the early ‘90s was still an industrial area dominated by the Blitz-Weinhard brewery. The city served as a magnet for gay teens from across the state.

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Scott Panella, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The City Nightclub was dominated by a large illuminated dance floor that looked like something out of “Saturday Night Fever.” It would fill with a mix of street kids and teens from the suburbs looking for a place to fit in – or stick out, if they wanted to, and not fear the repercussions of different.

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Joel Davis, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The City had its share of problems over the years, including allegations of drug use within the club, and reports of sexual activity in its bathrooms. There also was the matter of older men coming to the club, raising concerns that they were looking for teen sex partners.

"I'm not trying to paint myself lily white or this club lily white," owner Lanny Swerdlow told The Oregonian in 1993. "What I'm saying is this club is a microcosm of all the problems in society. There is no reason to expect the problems that are going on elsewhere in the city of Portland to evaporate at The City Nightclub.''

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Scott Panella, The Oregonian/OregonLive

In 1996, after undercover police spotted drug use in the club, a judge ruled that the building was a “crime property.” But after a year of legal wrangling over security cameras and personnel, Swerdlow closed the club in early 1997.

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Donald Wilson, The Oregonian/OregonLive

The late-1970s: Disco fever!

“Boogie, hustle, disco. It doesn’t matter what you call it as long as you do it – dance, dance, dance,” wrote The Oregonian in 1978 when disco dancing became a city-wide sensation following the success of the movie “Saturday Night Fever.” Places like Slabtown and the Silver Moon Tavern (above) in Northwest and Beaverton’s Earthquake Ethel’s Roadhouse were among a surge of nightclubs where you could find strobe-lights, mirror balls and the constant rotation of Bee Gees’ hits on the DJs’ turntables.

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Donald Wilson, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Earthquake Ethel's Roadhouse

It wasn’t just grownup doing the hustle. At Earthquake Ethel’s, weekend dance classes taught hundreds of teens synchronized disco steps, earning praise from parents, churches and schools. The club also hosted weekend teen dance contests, which were co-sponsored by Meier & Frank department store. The couple with the best moves could win $250 in cash, a $300 wardrobe, concert tickets, record albums, and a Kodak Instamatic.

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Steve Rissberger, The Oregonian/OregonLive

But not everyone was a fan of the crowds that discos were attracting. Earthquake Ethel’s became so popular on weekends that some neighbors said “Enough is enough” (and they weren’t referring to the Donna Summer/Barbra Streisand pulse-pounder). Ilene and Robert Robbins (above) complained that it had become impossible to have a quiet night at home.

“It was bad before, but now it’s just constant boom, boom, thumpity-thump,” Ilene Robbins told The Oregonian.

By the early ‘80s, disco had become passé, and nightclubs shifted formats. Earthquake Ethel’s offered ballroom dancing on some nights in the late-‘80s, along with $5 dinner specials, before closing. The building later became an auto parts shop.

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The Oregonian/OregonLive file photo

The Great Gatsby

A big part of going to a discotheque in the 1970s was putting on your best threads. But at The Great Gatsby on Northeast Halsey Street, a big part of the attraction was men taking it all off. The disco featured male strippers who would dare to bare -- to the delight of the women in the audience.

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Older nightclubs

Before the era of disco, Portland had a robust nightlife, though there aren’t as many photographs around that show how that era contrasts with today. But the photos that do exist are tantalizing.

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David Falconer, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Amato's Supper Club/China Doll

In the 1950s, going out to a nightclub was a very different experience than it is today, because many clubs featured live entertainers who would travel a circuit of venues up and down the West Coast. One of those destinations for singers ranging from Sammy Davis Jr. to Burl Ives was Amato’s Supper Club, which opened in 1948 in the Broadway theater building, and moved to Southwest Broadway and Main Street in 1953, taking over a large space that had been the Shrine Club and various other nightclubs since the 1920s.

An evening at Amato’s would begin with a continental dinner, followed by live music, which was sometimes broadcast live over the radio.

In December 1953, the club featured an engagement by the singing quartet the Mills Brothers, seen here with Portland’s Tigner quadruplets. In front row to right are Dee Jerry and Beatrice Tigner, backed up by Don and Skipper Mills. In back are August and Carol Tigner, with Herb and Harry Mills.

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The Oregonian file photo

In 1954, Amato’s introduced the “China Doll Revue,” a spectacle featuring 25 entertainers from New York, featuring dancing girls, a talking parrot act, and a comedy duo that the club described as “Chinese hillbillies.” It all seems of highly questionable taste now, but it was so popular that when Amato’s was sold in 1959, the club was renamed the China Doll, which operated until 1965. The next year, the building was demolished to make way for a surface parking lot. In the 1980s, the block was redeveloped to become the New Theatre Building of the Portland’5 Centers for the Arts, what now is called Antionette Hatfield Hall, housing the Newmark, Winningstad and Brunish theatres.

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The Oregonian file photo

Pago Pago

During World War II, Americans became obsessed with Polynesian culture. In 1942, one of the places to get a taste of it was Pago Pago at Southwest which showcased a tropical theme from its bar to its live band. According to The Oregonian, materials from seven different countries were used to decorate the club, which features tropical drinks.

In the 1950s, Pago Pago and its adjoining Turf Club came under the scrutiny of police during a crackdown of secret gambling dens. It closed in 1952 after lease difficulties and battles with City Hall over its liquor license.

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The Oregonian file photos

Piluso's

In Hollywood movies of the 1940s and '50s, fancy restaurants and nightclubs were often shown with Copacabana-like floorshows, complete with elaborate costumes, showgirls, and maracas-playing bandleaders. Portlanders got a taste of that glitz and glamor at Southwest's Piluso's, an Italian restaurant at Southwest 30th Avenue and Barbur Boulevard, where meals were punctuated with a glamorous nightly water show featuring synchronized swimmers and fountains. True magic!

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Allan J. de Lay, The Oregonian

Sidney's

Another popular downtown nightclub in the 1950s was Sidney’s. Here’s how The Oregonian’s photographer Allan J. de Lay described it in 1958: “New York City's Lexington Ave. isn't the only place where they have singing bartenders and waitresses. In Portland, Sidney's nightclub features not only one of the hottest combos in town but the singing of bartender Wayne Keith and waitress Barbara Helzer. They are shown with Jobie Rucker at the bass, Sidney Porter at piano and Earl Carnett at drums. The trio played for Vice President Richard Nixon during his visit in Portland last week. The vice president was entertained at the Masonic Temple.”

Sidney’s, which was owned by Porter, continued to be a popular venue for live jazz until its closure in 1971.

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James C. Moreland, The Oregonian/OregonLive

Webb's Hollywood Club

Another 1950s nightclub that embraced the Polynesian craze was Webb's Hollywood Club, which was located on Northeast Sandy Boulevard at 48th Avenue. The menu of steaks, chicken and barbecued oysters may not have been tropical, but the music coming from Gregory Watkins, Pua Lani and the Beachcombers certainly was. In 1959, the Hawaiian-themed group performed live at Webb's five nights a week.

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Beth Nakamura, The Oregonian/OregonLive

7 nights of dancing in Portland

Portland's nightlife today is as busy as ever. We sent reporter Lizzy Acker out on the town recently for 7 straight nights of dancing. She discovered that there's a wide variety of themed dance parties happening throughout town, ranging from salsa dancing to goth.

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Collage by Grant Butler, The Oregonian/OregonLive

More nightlife history

If you’re hungry for more on the history of Portland nightlife, you’re in luck:

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-- Grant Butler

gbutler@oregonian.com

503-221-8566; @grantbutler