Nightwatch: Hooray for Maplewood

If there were no Minneapolis, we'd all be clubbing in Maplewood. For real. With a population of about 35,000, this suburb claims to have the most nightclubs per capita in the Twin Cities area. I'm talking about real clubs, where you can dance. What about St. Paul, you ask? Boy, are they sorry in St. Paul. Sorry, sorry, sorry. But Maplewood? Banging. For starters, you can smoke. It's also home to Minnesota's largest club and a few strip-mall spots (hey, they're still nightclubs). I decided to take a look myself last weekend:

10:15 p.m. THE BIRD

How suburban is this? Three of the city's main clubs surround Maplewood Mall. First up is the Bird, which sits in a strip mall next to a nail salon and a State Farm office.

The bouncers treat the place like Fort Knox, which I have no qualms about. I enjoy a brief pat-down and they ask me to coat-check my hoodie and tuck in my necklace. (Clubs don't like flashy ice nowadays; too bad mine's just a Buddhist pendant.) But then they inquire about the guy on my T-shirt. It's only a portrait of Jimmy Cliff, the greatest reggae singer of all time, I say. That doesn't appear to register, but they let me in.

Inside, hip-hop is pounding out of the speakers. While the decor leaves something to be desired (tons of beer posters), the place has charm, plus it's being remodeled next month. The crowd is diverse and uninhibited. A KDWB DJ is shouting stuff between songs. We order a vodka-cranberry (two-for-ones!) and a giant mug of Blue Moon, all for $7.50. Amazing.

Aside from the cheap drinks, this could be any club in Minneapolis -- except next to the darts sits "Big Buck Hunter," a hunting video game. I picture myself blasting virtual deer while Ludacris yells "Shake Your Moneymaker!" and realize it's time to go.

The distance between the three Maplewood Mall clubs is only six blocks. But walking through giant, snow-covered parking lots just seems weird. So we get back in the car.

11:10 p.m. THE ROCK

Another strip mall, but a much different club. For one, it's a rock club. As in: Bands play live rock music and people dance. A lost concept, but it appears to work here.

The guys onstage, White Squirrel, have the worst band name in history, but they're a pretty good cover band. The White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army" has people knocking over chairs to get to the dance floor.

I guess I haven't seen white people shake it to rock music in a while, because I can't take my eyes off 'em. This deserves some devil horns. But once the whole crowd starts bouncing to a thrasher song, it's time to move on to beats again.

12:01 a.m. MYTH

Several parking lots later, we come to Minnesota's largest club. It opened 17 months ago, but some downtown clubbers still don't believe this place is the real deal. Too far and too suburban, they say.

They're missing out. Myth's enormous lot is packed tonight, so we follow the rows of cars until we find overflow parking at the Toys 'R' Us next door.

Myth is laid out like First Avenue, but three times bigger. A sea of people is grooving to a mash-up of hip-hop, electronic and pop rock on the main floor, which can fit about 2,000 people.

"This is the craziest thing I've ever seen," my friend says as we watch from the balcony.

Sure, they're dancing in an old Just For Feet superstore, but it doesn't feel like it. Actually, it doesn't feel like suburbia at all.

1:35 a.m. STARGATE

Reality comes crashing back when we get lost on the way to our final stop. Note to self: Don't act as if you know the city streets of a sprawling suburb. We arrive 25 minutes before closing time, and the poo-pooers at Stargate's front door aren't letting anyone in. I don't pull the reporter card, and let it go. But it must be said, getting turned away at a strip-mall nightclub ... very demeaning.

Kinda makes me yearn for downtown. Just kidding, Maplewood. You've still got a fan in me.

thorgen@startribune.com • 612-673-7909