SINGAPORE: I’m nursing a yuzu mojito brimming with a brilliance of mint leaves, a crown of crushed ice, a lime slice peeking through. I’m in the Katong-Joo Chiat uniform of T-shirt, shorts and slides, lounging in a cosy bar on the second floor of a heritage shophouse.

Hall & Oates and Annie Lennox hum in the background. I chat easily with my drinking partner; no need to shout to be heard. The cocktail is by award-winning mixologist Tom Hogan, the spiced tortilla chips are from Papi's Tacos next door and the walk from my place took five minutes. When my cheeky 2pm Sunday reverie winds down, I amble home, read a book, relax.

More than a quarter of a century ago, we’d hit the clubs - Zouk, mostly - at midnight, elbow our way through the crowd and shout our orders for jugs of vodka Ribena over the pounding music. Then, four or even five of us would chug it through straws, though my throat somehow always remained parched and my skin sticky with sweat.

A few hours later, my voice shredded, my body aching, I’d drag my bleary eyes home.

QUIETER NIGHTS

It seems I’m not alone in leaving the all-night clubbing of yesteryear behind. 

Nights out have become more expensive than ever. Between alcoholic drinks and late-night rides home, the costs can add up fast. 

Post-pandemic, many people have discovered the low-key joy of hosting house parties or hanging out in their neighbourhoods. Gen Z too seem to prefer spending on experiences and travel rather than partying hard. 

Of course, there are those who embrace the glorious absurdity of stumbling out of a club at 4am, ears ringing. But the data isn’t encouraging: According to official data previously cited in CNA, the operating revenue for pubs, nightclubs, discotheques, dance clubs and karaoke lounges has plunged nearly 60 per cent between 2015 and 2022.

Former hotspots like Chinatown’s Ann Siang Road-Club Street-Keong Saik triumvirate and the riverside no longer buzz and thrum like before. Se...