Thirty years after Prince urged us to party like it was 1999, Matthew Jacobs and Chris Cloud are doing the same. But where the Purple One's 1982 hit was a prescient party anthem, Jacobs and Cloud are looking backward.
In 2011, the thirtysomethings launched Forever Young — a monthly dance night at the James Ballentine VFW Post in Uptown, aimed at evoking '90s high school house parties.
"You are unbridled when you're that age," said Jacobs, nestled in a VFW corner booth. "I'm 33 years old. I don't go to parties and act like I was when I was [younger]."
"But people do at Forever Young," his dreadlocked partner interjected.
Their throwback bashes have become favorites for dancing-deprived Uptowners, despite (or perhaps because of) their unlikely digs. The Lyn-Lake dive bar long has been a melting pot for hipsters, bros and old-timers, but VFWs are better known for bingo and karaoke than booty-grinding dance parties.
Jacobs and Cloud fathered Forever Young in the lower-level event space after Jacobs drunkenly talked his way into a weekly DJ night — his Tuesday Night Music Club. "[At first] it was like, 'Wow, people actually want to come to a party at the VFW in the basement,' " recalled Cloud, a Mpls.TV co-founder. "All right then."
After a year and a half of nostalgic soirees with themes that ranged from school dance to slumber party, the two kickball buds are pulling the plug on Forever Young as a monthly dance night. But the co-captains of revelry are going out with a bang, throwing their second adult prom at First Avenue on Friday (if only you could letter in partying). Last year's prom drew about 800 to the mainroom, they said. The 21-plus event is an opportunity to relive or redo this rite of passage with (legal) drinking and no finger-wagging chaperones.
Catering to millennials' sentimental sides, Forever Young soundtracks are like "Total Request Live" box sets. Top 40 relics are culled from 1996 to 2006, including classic cuts from Britney, JT and Nelly. Jacobs and Cloud said these trips down memory lane invigorate people on the dance floor waiting to wild out to their favorite jam. "People love the music they grew up with," Jacobs said. "You don't really fall in love with music the same way that you do when you're younger."