Doors open: 7pm
False Flags: Midnight
NO COVER!

If you’ve never been to Kill Your Idol before, read on…

“It’s the end of the world and confusion is sex” couldn’t be more true, hence Kill Your Idol, the new joint gracing the neon palm tree lined streets of South Beach. If pop culture and the milky Moloko bar from Clockwork Orange got together one night, got drunk on Vodka and fornicated on a pristine white marble slab to create a “love child” it would be the interior of this bar.

Throw in some cupcakes for kitsch, a pinball machine for an old school vibe, a juke box filled with actual CD’s and mixes made by local DJ’s and friends of the bar for integrity, and live local bands for raw power, and you’ve got the innards of this anti-SoBe oasis. No offense to South Beach, after all it’s KYI’s home, but that’s where the SoBe vibe ends. Once inside the doors people are transported to a comfortable artsy feel that channels Alphabet City, NYC more than Espaniola Way, well a little less grungy than Ave B, but you get the point.

Then there are the bodies that inhabit this nook. Anyone and everyone are welcome regardless of wardrobe or status. Chucks and Manolo’s welcome although the latter may be less apparent. And on a packed night there are exposed tattoos and interesting coifs as far as the eye can see.

Kill Your Idol exists to give the other half an interesting place to have good conversation, smoke cigarettes, meet like-minded folks and listen to some b-sides while they’re doing it. Finally.