Live Review: Up All Night | Burning the Midnight Oil

photo by Clayton Hauck: Everyone is Famous

Dialogue Incorporated explores everything from dives to dance-floors on an all-night romp
by Joshua P. Ferguson
originally published in Time Out Chicago magazine: 7/2/09


Time Out Chicago Nightlife editor (and Musical Curator for Dialogue Incorporated) Joshua P. Ferguson treks from West Town to Wrigleyville in search of beats, booze and a berry-filled breakfast.

Midnight The night starts at Bar DeVille (701 N Damen Ave, 312-929-2349), a neighborhood watering hole whose style meter is cranked to 11. It’s ablaze with hipsters and intellectuals sporting so much ink you’d think it garnered a discount on drinks. I sidle up to the bar and settle into my beer of choice—I’m perpetually living the High Life.

12:14am Resident mixologist Brad Bolt offers a shot of Rhum Clement VSOP, a rum made in Martinique. How can I turn that down?

12:45am I run into TOC Eat Out writer Julia Kramer, who tells me a crazy story about a SWAT team invading her neighborhood and tries to set me up with her sister.

1:21am After submitting to two incriminating sessions in DeVille’s vintage photo booth, I head back out into the night with three shots and three beers under my belt.

1:40am I arrive at Sonotheque (1444 W Chicago Ave, 312-226-7600), proud owner of the best sound system in West Town, to find that the Crossfader Kings, Matt Roan and E-Six, have the crowd properly riled. The girls are dolled up in spring dresses, bows in their hair, nails did. Miraculously, the guys have managed to keep the ironic T-shirts to a minimum.

2:25am Drinks clank, splash and shatter on pace with the music. It gets so rowdy I have to rescue Roan’s computer from the dance floor after it takes a tumble, leaving the room in silence. The Crossfader Kings hoist me up in the air as if I just threw the game-winning pass.

2:40am The party is descending into drunken madness. After hearing three Operation Ivy tracks in a row, it’s time to go.

3am I’m in Wicker Park and I’m looking for a DJ, which means I’m headed to Evil Olive(1551 W Division Ave, 773-235-9100). Judging by the mass of people undulating like a human Jell-O mold on the dance floor, I’m not the only one.

3:10am Olive’s out of High Life, so I order a couple of Coronas and join a few friends in what is now—upon reflection—a very hazy conversation about horror flicks.

5am My crew and I step out into a sun so bright I feel like a vampire in a weakened state. With no desire for the neighborhood Mexican offerings, we caravan uptown for end-of-the-night munchies at Pick Me Up Café (3408 N Clark St, 773-248-6613).

5:30am Surrounded by other tables of postparty revelers, I order coffee and dive headfirst into a plate of pancakes smothered in butter and some sort of berry topping.

5:55am I pass out during the ride home.


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Stories are what inspire us. We're an outlet devoted to music, media and culture seeking out people, personas and brands worth talking about. Devoted to interesting content and the written word, we share the things that excite us and hopefully excite you, too. Let the conversation begin. 

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