Mixing It Up at Metro Cafe By Maura Kelly Washingtonpost.com Staff Monday, May 11, 1998

Metro Cafe owners Dennis Merritt and Nick Nichols. (By Reginald A. Pearman Jr./washingtonpost.com)

The heterogeneous scene may be a reflection of the backgrounds of Metro Cafe's two owners, Dennis Merritt and Nick Nichols. When the two crossed paths one night at the now-defunct 15 Minutes Club, Merritt was a Harvard-educated manager for Andersen Consulting, while Nichols was pounding the pavement promoting bands like the Pietasters and places like State of the Union.

Last summer, while the two were enjoying their usual Sunday brunch at the Hotel Harrington, they cooked up their utopian idea of the perfect D.C. club. Merritt says he envisioned a space for "people from all kinds of different backgrounds."

Their first requirement was that the place be intimate. And that's how it turned out: Metro's capacity is 200, and it's small enough that you can see the stage from wherever you are, except the bathrooms. And, Merritt says, "that's only because the doors are closed."

But a small place didn't mean small ambitions. "Just because you have a small nightclub doesn't mean you have to have a [poor] sound system," Nichols notes. "Or that the band is secondary."

Metro Cafe patrons get to know each other better. (By Mark Finkenstaedt/The Washington Post)

Next came the hunt for a place. Nichols realized that the 14th Street space that used to be Dante's, the club that shut its doors in 1995, was the perfect spot. Dante Ferrando, who still owned it, agreed to put it in Nichol's hands.

Nichols notes that Ferrando "turned away a lot of people to take this back over. He wanted to keep it in the family. He's my brother in the fight, the fight for live music."

But who's the enemy? "Consumer apathy," he responds.

But first the new impresarios had to wage war against the space itself. Merritt remembers the day last summer when Nichols showed him the club. It was filthy. Refrigeration units were in the middle of the floor. The bar was in tatters. Merritt began wondering whether he'd made a mistake by putting up the funds to back the new club.

This past November, after lots of construction and heaps of paperwork, Metro Cafe opened for business. Now, several months later, if you stop in around 9 on a Saturday night, the place will be crawling with regulars.

How did the place get regulars so fast? It probably didn't hurt that the dark and mysterious manager, Maree, used to be a State of the Union bartender. Or that goateed Neal Becton has been a DJ at a number of places around town, such as State and Chief Ike's Mambo Room (in addition to his day job at The Washington Post).

Some of the greatest nightlife diversity in the Northwest quadrant is to be found at Metro. And that's because the owners cultivate it. "We're trying to create this inclusive feeling," says Merritt.

Adds Nichols: "D.C. in itself has a breadth of ethnic, racial and cultural diversity, and we're trying to reflect that."

Morel takes the stage. (By Mark Finkenstaedt/The Washington Post)

Nichols and Merritt also seem to have bridged another divide: the age gap. While fortysomethings are likely to show up early at Metro, if you get there after 12:30 a.m., you'll find a slew of people in their early twenties taking advantage of the late-night happy hour (plus you'll avoid the cover).

But perhaps the club's biggest feat of cross-pollination lies in its varied offerings – jazz one night, alternative rock on another, perhaps an independent film or a theater production the night after that. Actor Crispin Glover recently presented a slide show here, so who knows – you might even spot a star.