Which was greater: The opening night kinks of the new Brick nightclub or the kinkiness of headliner Jane's Addiction?

The proudly provocative 1990s alt-metal heroes featured two bondage babes, and general decadence and lasciviousness. That was to be expected.

The first-night snafus were not expected from the Brick, operated by AEG Live, the world's second-biggest concert promoter.

Security was TSA-thorough, which was overzealous for a show attracting mostly 30- and 40-somethings who were well behaved. Couldn't AEG call an audible and realize something was wrong with people standing in the rain for an hour to get into a club? Concertgoers entered in a foul mood as they walked through the too-small entryway, passed by the too-tiny one-window box office and climbed up the too-narrow stairs.

With 2,000 rock fans, the Brick was so packed that traffic flow was an oxymoron. An even bigger issue was sightlines. If you weren't on the front half of the main floor or leaning over the railing in the balcony, you couldn't see the stage. (Does this sound like the same issues that Epic has? Hello.)

Good luck if you had to use the restroom. There are five urinals and two stalls total for men. That may meet city code but it doesn't measure up to the facilities at First Avenue, Epic or Myth.

If you want to buy a band T-shirt at the Brick, you have to snake down the crowded stairs to the basement to a small table in the corner. Merchandise was cash-only.

At the end of the concert, those same security guards who were in no hurry to get you into the Brick were suddenly aggressive about getting you to leave. Clearly, these neophyte guards were not trained at the First Avenue School of Crowd Control.

"It's like a smaller Epic," said clubgoer Michael Simonds, 39, of Inver Grove Heights, after the concert. "They failed at security; they pulled a TSA on me -- everything short of a strip search. Only thing good I can say is the light rail drops you off across the street."

"The sound was great," countered Jennifer Neitzke, 38, of Coon Rapids. "I hope they can figure out how to tier it better and make the stage taller."

Troy Johnson, 42, of Minneapolis said: "They were ill-prepared for this kind of crowd. The flow is awful. I thought this was a professional outfit that ran this thing; they run Target Center and Staples Center [in Los Angeles]. I'm quite surprised."

Heidi Kapacinskas, 43, Edina: "We tried four different sightlines with absolutely no success. This was incredibly frustrating. It was very claustrophobic, and I think somewhat dangerous. If things stay the same, I would not return."

"We want to get people in faster. We can't use the weather as an excuse," he said. "We have some sightline issues. We had upset fans and that doesn't make us feel good. We want constructive feedback. We learned a lot. We're making a long-term investment and we'll consider any changes. We're gonna make it right."

Letter grade? "I'd give us a C," said Litvag, whose staff gave out two refunds. "We have to strive for an A. I'm a perfectionist."

How was the music? Pretty classic 1990s Jane's Addiction, with a few new songs from 2011's "Great Escape Artist" that fit in seamlessly. Drudgy/druggy sound, with eccentric theatricality from Perry Farrell and wonderful rapier guitar from Dave Navarro. Of course, there were surreal accoutrements including two giant statues of nude women and non sequitur films.

One year after it was shuttered, Bullwinkle's Saloon is scheduled to reopen Saturday under new ownership. For the most part, it'll be the same townie college bar except for a few minor changes.

For one, its signature moose head is gone. It walked off when the Seven Corners bar closed. "If somebody wants to bring it back, we'll welcome it," said new owner Bob Rick.

Rick, 68, is an unlikely savior of this 35-year-old bar. The longtime West Bank advocate spent about $40,000 of his retirement money on rehabbing behind the bar and in the kitchen. The food menu will get a slight update, but don't worry, the Coney Island dogs aren't going anywhere.

In the meantime, someone get this man a moose head. In its place is a pair of antlers.

"That'll do for now," he said.

Cafe Maude owner Kevin Sheehy plans to open a restaurant/bar in the Loring Park space currently occupied by Nick and Eddie.

"We just need to get our hands on a lease," said Sheehy. "That's the final nail, so to speak, and as long as it's satisfactory, we'll be moving forward."

Word on the street is it that Nick and Eddie might relocate around the corner, to an empty Hennepin Avenue storefront most recently occupied by an advertising agency. "That's premature, too," said Anderson. "There has been some talk about that; it has come up as a possibility."

As for details of the new restaurant, Sheehy is calling it Cafe Maude at Loring. It will be led by Maude chef Matthew Kempf and cocktail whiz Adam Harnes. But it won't exactly mirror the original Cafe Maude food and drink offerings.

"We're going to have fun with the menu," said Sheehy. "Something different from Maude, but keeping the same qualities."

After taking over the suburbs (and Uptown), Cowboy Jack's is coming to downtown Minneapolis. It'll open in the never-opened Ahern's Irish Pub space in late April or early May.

Owners Chris Diebold and Brian Asmus have Cowboy Jack's locations in Bloomington, Plymouth and St. Cloud, as well as Cowboy Slim's in Uptown. The downtown version will be next to Epic, just one block from Target Field. The prime location has been the subject of much speculation over the past two years. In early 2010, Ahern's announced its intentions to open a 14,000-square-foot pub in the raw downtown space at the corner of 5th Street and 2nd Avenue N. But it never did, due to financial issues.

This location will utilize a large mezzanine and feature a rooftop bar. The Cowboy's menu is typical big-bar comfort food: ribs, wings, burgers and "country meatloaf." Asmus said they'll feature similar music at this location -- one- or two-person cover bands.

While the theme of these bars is cowboy-country, the owners are known as motorcycle guys (they also own the Joint). "Right now we're trying to figure out where we're going to put the bikes," Asmus said.