You want to go out. You want to do something different. You know there has to be something going on tonight, and you know it's not on cable. But you're not sure which club is for you. So instead of trying someplace new and discovering that it isn't your style, follow us as we take you into the dark corners of downtown Gainesville in an exploration of the various clubs and theme nights. You're sure to find something that appeals to you, and perhaps, if we've done our job, you'll discover something new in the following pages. So grab your (fake?) ID and prepare yourself for an exploration into the night … an exploration into sound … an exploration into yourself. Who knows? Perhaps you'll like what you find.

Swing

You probably never thought you'd be dancing to music from the Good Old Days you've heard so much about over the years. But as you know, everything old is new again - and swing is no exception. While many of us have been rocking, rolling and rapping our way through the '90s, swing has swung back into the spotlight. This newfangled swing craze has the Cherry Poppin' Daddies zoot-suit riotin' on the radio every couple of hours as you polish your saddle oxfords and consider calling Grandpa for some expert advice on that tricky scissor-split maneuver.

Swingers can show off their smooth style at the Covered Dish on Mondays and the Brick City Music Hall on Wednesdays. The Dish has a small, intimate dance pit to put faithful scenesters in the mood, while Brick City becomes a stardusted ballroom as the music takes you back in time 60 years.

Don't know the moves? Don't worry. Unlike other music where you can make up any old full-body dry heave, and others won't notice, it's hard to fake the funk on swing dancing. If you go out early enough, the Imperial Dance Studio provides free dance lessons before the evening gets underway. These lessons focus not only on beginning moves but also an advanced step each week. Before very long, you'll be swinging with Sinatra and Grandpa.

What to wear when stompin' at the Savoy? You've probably seen the TV commercial for GAP khakis where swing dancers defy gravity to the sounds of Louis Prima's "Jump, Jive and Wail," but don't feel like industrial beige or white cotton is your only option. While light colors look great under the black lights at the Dish or the neon signs at Brick City, anything goes.

As for styles, the well-dressed swinger often struts his stuff in a crisp white shirt, skinny tie, suspenders and the sweaty but swingeresque fedora (think Frank Sinatra).

His swing-savvy partner favors toe-tapping pumps or saddle shoes and a full skirt or dress of any length. A word to the wise: unless you want to flash the entire dance floor, wear biker shorts underneath. Those over-the-head flips can be, well, flashy.

The operative words to swing style are cool, smooth and classic. (Think of yourself as the embodiment of a martini). But ultimately, comfort is the key. Although looking snazzy is important, you want room to move freely. After all, it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing.

A final warning: swing can be addictive. When the jitterbug bites, it bites hard - and the only antidote is to put on your saddle shoes and hit the dance floor.

Old Wave

Perhaps swing isn't for you. Perhaps you're not really interested in what's trendy today but don't feel the need to go back in time 60 years to get into the groove. Your glory days aren't quite so far away. Instead, you prefer living in the '80s, when Jo, Tootie, Natalie and Blaire were learning the facts of life and Michael Jackson swore that Billie Jean was not his lover. To satisfy your sense of nostalgia you could always walk like an Egyptian or Roger Rabbit in the privacy of your own home ... or you could take advantage of the various clubs in Gainesville that offer an '80s night.

While many remember the '80s as the decade of the AIDS panic, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Challenger explosion, twenty-something Americans remember the '80s as "old wave" music made famous by British guys with big hair and white loafers.

In the '80s, of course, old wave wasn't known as such. At that time it was called "new wave," and the bands were referred to as "new romantics" because they wore frilly clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era and played music inspired by '60s pop groups.

Not surprisingly for a college town, old wave is the most prevalent nightclub scene in Gainesville. Almost all of the dance clubs have a night devoted to the hard-core fans of Depeche Mode, The Smiths, When in Rome, Haircut One Hundred, New Order and Dexy's Midnight Runners. For those who just want to indulge their nostalgia, there's also trendier, more familiar old wave at the Florida Theater on Tuesdays, the Rotator on Wednesdays and Full Circle on Thursdays.

At the University Club on Tuesday nights, DJ Donna recreates the '80s for diverse crowds. In her glass sound booth she moves to the music, her long midnight black hair shaking, her blood-red lips mouthing the words to the current song. Out on the dance floor, Gothic types in black crushed velvet and purple feather boas swoon and sway to Joy Division alongside clean-cut punk rockers in plaid button-downs and khakis. And when Bauhaus does their version of David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust," mop-topped Ziggy disciples in mock turtlenecks flock to the floor and form a circle, mouthing the words and performing imaginary guitar solos.

(Don't you) forget the clothes. (Don't you) forget the dancing. (Don't you) forget how long it takes you to hear your absolute favorite, I'll-die-if-Donna-doesn't-play-it-for-me song. But you can't forget about the nostalgia. It's about movies like "Sixteen Candles" and "The Breakfast Club." It's about a different time and place to which we sometimes like to escape. It's about going home again. And the fastest way back home is to close your eyes, hum a few bars of a familiar song and dance until yesterday seems closer than your next breath.

Comedy

If you're looking for something to do before old wave night, you could always bop over to the Blow Hole and check out Groucho's Comedy Club, where you might hear something like this:

"Hey, you! Yeah, you in the front row. You. The one looking around. You ever consider dating a dummy? No? You need to check out the goods. Come on, baby," says a short Indian man wearing a turban. He's only two feet tall but still looking to pick up a nice girl -- maybe even you. However, something to consider: you could (literally) pick him up because he's a puppet and one of the many entertainers at Groucho's.

Known for big laughs, the Blow Hole is tucked right behind the Purple Porpoise. When you're stressed and need a break during the mid-week grind, you can hand over $5 to the friendly doorman and plunge into a virtual underwater comedy tank. Surrounded by murals of half-naked mermaids and huge whales, red and blue lights splash your face as you swim through a sea of smoke and laughter.

Anatomically Correct Improv Incorporated -- six slightly insane people in multi-colored tees -- storms the tiny stage to open the show. Taking audience suggestions, they create characters never seen before and probably never seen again, burst into song upon request and always end the show with an improvised rap session, much to the amusement of the rowdy and only semi-drunk crowd.

After more than 30 minutes of high-energy entertainment, the Beer Man appears. As if on cue, the crowd cheers, "Hey, beer man!" He tells terrible jokes, but somehow you have to laugh -- and the louder the laugh, the better. You might even be lucky enough to have a free tee thrown at you. If you're one of these favored recipients, you know you're on the Beer Man's good side. But beware: you could make him angry and lose your Blow Hole booty.

Amid groans from the unlucky who don't catch a shirt, Stew Finkel, Groucho's manager, steps up to the mike. With a half-downed glass of beer in hand, he introduces the main act for the night, usually someone brought in from out of town. These out-of-towners have a tough job. They have to live up to the crowd's expectations for more than an hour of laughter, and they almost always deliver the laughs.

As soon as Stew says goodnight, everyone but you surges through the door as if someone pulled the plug out of a bath tub. But you just can't seem to leave. You know you eventually have to go home, but right now the laughs still linger like cigar smoke in the room, and you realize that like one of the fish on the wall, Groucho's has you hook, line and snicker.

Goth

You slink into Full Circle on goth night and decide you want a drink. You step up to the bar and ask for one. The bartender looks at you for a moment, then smiles -- displaying teeth filed to a sharp point.

Suddenly, you're not so sure the drink is all that important.

Although it's definitely not a barrel of laughs like Groucho's, goth night at Full Circle is rather friendly under its sometimes scary exterior. (After all, the bartender did smile at you). You shouldn't be intimidated by the ghostly pale raven-haired dancers in long, swirling capes and web-fine Victorian garments, leather jackets and heavy, rattling chains, army uniforms and striped stockings like the Wicked Witch of the East. The clothes are just part of the ambience. And in a way, you are in a sort of Oz -- only a much darker version. The clothes, like the music, help create the eerie, alluring mood.

As for the music, it varies from hauntingly seductive to passionately raging. Classic bands such as Bauhaus and Sisters of Mercy send out bewitching dance beats to the crowd. The slow, romantic melodies of Switchblade Symphony and Dead Can Dance blend with the more caustic strains of Nitzer Ebb and Einsturzende Neubauten throughout the night.

Don't be put off if many of the dancers keep to themselves for most of the evening. You'll see this phenomenon at a goth night much more often than you'll see a group of friends dancing together in a circle like at most other clubs. Solitude is almost necessary because of giant leaps across the floor and exaggerated arm and leg movements.

Some dancers punch and kick to the rhythm, patterning their moves after the martial arts. Others move fluidly with the music, swaying and turning like a coven of witches calling upon a greater force. The sight becomes almost mystical illuminated by flashes of red, blue and green flare lights in the dusky gloom. If you look up into one of the corners, you may even see a gargoyle or two.

Outside, your decision to dress in full midnight might make you feel out of place. Outside, you might question the necessity of pop songs and groovy trains. But this isn't outside anymore. This is Full Circle on goth night.

On your way out, ignore the vampires preening in the boy's bathroom. You know the ones. They stand in front of the empty wall and brush out their thick manes of hair. Just ignore them and move along. And you thought the mirrors were taken out for some other reason?

Latin

All right, so goth doesn't do it for you. You like the idea of entering another world for the evening -- you'd just prefer one that's a little brighter and cheerier. Welcome to Saoca (pronounced sow-kuh), Gainesville's Latino hot spot.

You enter Saoca through a small patio with groups of tables and chairs that seem to invite you to sit down with a tropical drink and dream of your own personal Caribbean paradise. The idea is appealing, but you're not here to fantasize about Bacardi on the beach. You came to dance, and the loud, festive music floating through the door swirls seductively around you like salty island breezes.

Drawn in by the beguiling beat, you step inside. Right away, color, light and sound assail you in a festival of the senses. The music gets into your feet and makes you want to dance until dawn, and the twirling red and black skirts of dancing girls remind you of tropical birds or exotic butterflies.

In a dim corner of the room is a cluster of comfortable old vintage-print couches for those who need to sit one out. (They seem to be a rare breed, as the dance floor is perpetually packed). Old lamps cast a warm glow on the bare, faded yellow walls, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere perfect for puffing on a cigar. Scattered mirrors reflect the twinkling yellow strands of lights strung high on the walls, giving the illusion of an indoor street party.

Outside the warm circle of golden light, it's always twilight on the dusky dance floor. The dark walls and clumps of potted plants across the room create an illusion of a small jungle where any exotic creature might be lurking in the shadows -- although you couldn't hear even the loudest macaw over the music.

Not fluent in Spanish? No problema. You don't have to understand the lyrics to enjoy the sultry, throbbing beat. And if you look around, you'll see that everyone else is enjoying it too. Smiling faces and sweaty bodies move close together in the near-darkness, and the lively Latin rhythms come at you from all directions.

If you're in the mood for something spicy, try Saoca. While the Latin music and atmosphere may seem exotic to some, it will make others feel right at home. So find a dance partner, close your eyes and feel the rhythm. You'll swear you're on Calle Ocho in Little Havana.

Country

Maybe salsa isn't your style. Maybe you harbor a hidden hankering for Garth Brooks and boiled peanuts. If so, DJ Chaps is the place for you. So fall in with the parade of midnight cowboys strolling and strutting down Main Street on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night. In dark, tight Wranglers you saunter toward the red neon-glowing doorway to the hole in the wall that is Chaps. One good thing about the Chaps crowd is that it's easy to get acquainted with your fellow country-clubbers before you even get to the bar. By the time you make your grand boot-scootin' entrance, you'll all know who each other is from the names engraved on your belt buckles.

You walk into Chaps expecting cowboy boots, Stetson hats and loud country music. Boots, yes. Hats, yes. Loud, definitely. But country music -- well, maybe, or maybe not. It's hard to tell whether "YMCA" or "Achy Breaky Heart" will blare next from the loudspeakers. Strobe lights flash silver on belt buckles across the packed dance floor, and the driving beat thumps inside your head like nothing your mama ever heard on TNN. You get a little chill up your spine when you realize that you are hearing history being made: the music of Billy Ray Cyrus and the Village People under one roof. But then you get over it, remember why you're there and dance.

After you've been there a while, you may get a wild hankering to line dance -- until you remember, to your dismay, that you don't know how. Fear not, buckaroo. Chaps offers line dance lessons for those who don't want to sit out "The Watermelon Crawl." After a few pointers you'll be ready to give Shania Twain a run for her money.

In the meantime, you might want to belly up to the Beer Only bar and chug a cold mug while you take in your surroundings: the Confederate flag on the wall, the stuffed coyote with a red bandanna tied around its neck on a shelf over the pool tables in the smoke-filled back room. But before too long, the twang of a steel guitar tickles your blood again, and you swagger back out there to stomp and strut some more. After all, you like it. You love it. You want some more of it.

Punk

The flame spewing from the fire-breather's mouth turns the dim interior of the Hardback Cafe a bright, wavering orange, easily overpowering the bar's weak lights for the few seconds of its life. The fire-breather takes another quick swig from her bottle of lamp oil, and to the fear, delight and wonder of the crowd, the next flame shoots several feet higher and farther than before, dancing the length of the ceiling like a fiery salamander. This petite dragon, dressed in black from head to toe, has stolen the spotlight from the band, which has kept playing feverishly without missing a beat.

Tucked into a corner of the Sun Center Plaza facing the Hippodrome, the Hardback seems a bit out of place next to the elegant little bistros and the grand old theater it neighbors. Outside, a single glowing neon sign advertising King Cobra malt liquor is the only evidence that a bar even exists. But inside Gainesville's punk palace, a whole other world is alive and well -- not to mention on fire.

When the bands take to the stage, which is nothing but a bare stretch of wide-open floor, they will thrill you with hard core, emo, punk and ska. Along with the regular shows, the Hardback also holds acoustic sessions, open formats and comedy nights.

But no matter the format, the crowd is always a diverse assortment. All kinds come to the Hardback, from over-dressed girls in short skirts and heels to under-dressed guys in wifebeaters and grungy sneakers. For some, dressing up is a game, and whoever has the most obscure band name on the front of their tee wins.

For others, the Hardback is just a place to go casual, knowing that no one really cares what you're wearing. As long as you move quickly from the bar back to your place in the mosh pit so the person behind you can buy their drink just as quickly, you'll fit in fine.

The music, however, is the real reason to go to the Hardback. Never mind the fire-breather -- the Hardback is a great place to hear local bands often playing their first show.

And yes, sometimes the music is too loud, and yes, sometimes it's rather raw, but it's always full of emotion and spark that can only come from real people, covered in real sweat and playing real music to a crowd that loves it.

(Rest in peace. ed.)

Rave

But sometimes reality bites. What to do? Bite back with glow sticks in place of shooting flames and electronic music in place of wailing horns.

How? Try a rave at Simon's. The rave culture is flashy, fun, trendy and finding its way to a club near you. All-night raves are weekend norms. Simon's, The Florida Theater, UC and even a more subdued Soulhouse all spin raveresque tunes for the so-inclined.

The so-inclined also dress in a style all their own: baggy jncos, shiny, gaudy shirts, baggy tees with drug- or band-related slogans, tight-laced sneakers or boots, face glitter, neon glow sticks, visors, 3-D glasses, balls that glow as they bounce. These kids in their flashy garb have an all-encompassing desire to move. Once the music starts, there's no stopping them. Hands, arms, feet, legs, heads bobbing back and forth -- all are in constant motion.

The inside of Simon's is painted in vibrant colors. Repetitive patterns flash across your eyes with bursts of fluorescent lights. You stare as if hypnotized at a particularly vibrant image -- that is, if you can see it. With the smoke and fog machines often on full blast, you find yourself pushing through the crowd to escape to the roof for some fresh air.

On the roof, the night becomes surreal. When was the last time you danced all night on a roof until the sun came up, rays filtering down through the exhausted, sweaty-but-happy crowd?

Simon's typically features Florida spinners who come up for special themed weekends. To find out more about each weekend's activities and entertainers, visit your local head shop and pick up some of the assorted fliers meant to entice you to come out for the night.

Raves can be costly, though. The normal $5 you might spend at some other club becomes $15 or $20, depending on the night and the time you arrive. To save some money, go early. Beat the crowds. Just don't expect things to pick up and move you until around 3 a.m.

Just remember: a rave isn't just about the drugs, or the people you're with, or the music. A rave is a musical drug, a force, a radiant beam of light bouncing from person to person, foot to foot, mind to mind. Jungle, house, trip-hop, acid ... experience life in the fast lane ... the fast lane ... the fast lane. Experience the music. Just experience.

So we're through. We've traveled from club to club, reviewed the music, learned the dances, checked out the fashions and brought it all back to you. And here it is: your handbook to the Gainesville nightclub scene. Refer to it when necessary. You wouldn't want to show up expecting salsa and find yourself in line for boiled peanuts, now would you? As a final reminder, here are the three cardinal rules of club-hopping in Gator country: remember to check with individual clubs for event and entertainment schedules, be prepared for absolutely anything and leave your inhibitions at home.