It's Friday night at Dragon-i and visiting sports marketer Nicola Antognetti is casting an appreciative eye over the models streaming into the second floor club on Wyndham Street. 'The women here are beautiful,' he says. The 35-year-old Italian has just one night to party before returning to Milan where he is a regular at luxe lounge Armani/Prive, so he has taken friends' advice and made his way to Dragon-i. 'This club is famous,' says the avid clubber, bobbing his head to a house beat. 'They told me I had to go here.' Financial planner Vanessa Taub, 38, also enjoys the vibe at Dragon-i. 'I love the music, energy, crowd and the big dude [guarding the door] ... he's great.' Clubbers can be a fickle lot and those in Hong Kong are no different, easily shifting loyalties to the trendy nightspot of the moment. Chic lounges opening in Central or Kowloon often enjoy a couple of years' buzz before fading into irrelevance. Some relaunch under a new name, but many go out of business altogether. So how do clubs maintain the hip quotient that keeps the fashionable set returning? 'Hong Kong is a unique playing field. Because of the lack of space, clubs tend to cater to mainstream tastes because they need to bring in a large number of people to recoup their money,' says the blogger behind nightlife website Hongkonghustle.com, who would only give his name as Nat. Still, a handful of clubs have demonstrated staying power while retaining their cool edge, including Drop (nine years), Dragon-i (seven) and Volar (five years). Dragon-i consistently attracts a slew of beautiful women, stars and champagne-popping men who like to ogle both. Celebrities from Michael Jordan to the members of Coldplay have been known to pop in, and the club gets even more crowded when international DJs such as Grandmaster Flash and Louie Vegas hit the decks. Part of Dragon-i's appeal are regulars such as Alya Chloe Ng, a Eurasian freelance model who visits the club with her model friends almost every week. They have an incentive for showing up. 'Meals and drinks are free for models,' Ng says. 'The music is not bad either, although a bit too chill unless there's a major DJ playing. 'You get a slightly older crowd at Dragon-i who are usually in suits, just chilling,' she says. 'But on Friday and Saturday nights, people want to do more than just chill out after 1am.' That's when Ng and her friends usually head for nearby Volar where they can dance the night away. Liza Lebeda, editor of nightlife website Hiphongkong.com, says Dragon-i succeeds because it knows how to keep its crowd red carpet-worthy. 'Beautiful girls always draw the men and men spend the money,' Lebeda says. 'Celebrity endorsement also works. If local and international celebrities go to your club, that gives immediate credibility and makes it attractive for people who want to be seen hobnobbing with VIPs.' But owner Gilbert Yeung Kei-lung doesn't take the club's longevity for granted. 'There's no loyalty in this business,' says Yeung, the eldest son of entertainment tycoon Albert Yeung Sau-shing. 'People come and go. Once you're no longer hot, they head somewhere else. I'd do the same. I've been clubbing since I was 16, so I know how people think when they go out.' He also checks out the club scene in party cities such as Ibiza and St Tropez and employs a music director to keeps tabs on hot trends and identify international acts they can bring in. Music aside, Yeung spends huge sums on monthly maintenance. He won't give figures but says this typically involves upgrading lighting, sound systems and furniture. Even the bartenders' T-shirts are changed every season. 'When I first opened even my father complained that I was spending too much on maintenance,' Yeung says. 'But I didn't want a club that lasted two years, I want Dragon-i to be an institution in Hong Kong.' Colette Koo Ka-ling, who owns Drop on Hollywood Road, agrees maintenance costs are high because clubs take a lot of beating from revellers. 'Clubs get worn down really quickly with cigarette burns and people in high heels jumping on sofas. It's extraordinary how much we spend on maintenance,' she says. Walls also have to be repainted every few months and the club door has to repaired almost weekly because inebriated revellers push instead of sliding it open. 'Clubs fail when people open them without understanding how much hard work and money it takes,' Koo says. 'Some people set up a club thinking, 'Great, now I have my own place to party.'' Koo's intimate venue is still thriving after nine years as a cocktail lounge that turns into a dance club after midnight, packing 120 people into the tiny space. This staying power stems from several factors, she says. 'It's a combination of everything being right - good music, good staff, good drinks. It works as a package ... like a good movie, where all the components work well to fulfil people's expectations.' For Lincoln Cheng Ling-ga, the Hongkonger who founded Zouk in Singapore, sustained success is a matter of constantly surpassing expectations. Opened in 1991, Zouk is the only Asian venue listed in dance music magazine DJMag's list of the world's top 10 clubs and still packs an average of 8,000 people at weekends 'Owners need to create a niche market for themselves and nurture their clientele,' Cheng says. 'We can't just play what the crowd wants; we have to educate them as to what they'll want in the next six months. We have to play the kind of music they've never heard before.' Zouk, which now occupies a 20,000 sq ft former warehouse, is divided into three sections playing techno, break beat and house music. Cheng and his team constantly revise the music programming and attend major music festivals every year to stay on top of trends. The club also spends about HK$180,000 each month on maintenance and upgrades for the stage set, lighting and sound systems. Cheng even has a dedicated team making papier-mache props that dangle from the club ceilings. Every five years or so, Zouk undergoes a complete facelift; the most recent in 2005 cost about HK$30 million. 'You need regular renovations to keep the club fresh and cutting edge,' Cheng says. Beyond aesthetic changes, the club also extends its brand by staging parties such as the outdoor music event ZoukOut, a dusk-to-dawn music and dance festival held annually in December on the resort island of Sentosa that attracts thousands of revellers. After 18 years in the business, Cheng is sitting pretty. 'Zouk pretty much runs itself now,' he says. 'I just go to have fun.' However, anyone contemplating a club venture should not underestimate the deep pockets and patience required to make a success of it, Cheng says. For instance, it took Zouk three years to turn a profit. 'Owners are often too short-sighted or short-funded,' Cheng says. 'Trying to make a quick buck is the most fatal formula in clubbing. Most importantly, you must have 110 per cent belief in your vision and stick it out until you make it work. 'How many clubs can bear three years of losses?' At Volar, one of several clubs run by Buzz Concepts, co-owner Benedict Ku Wei-chun is conscious of the need for maintaining the element of surprise. Like other popular clubs, Volar regularly brings world-class acts to its turntables, says Ku. Earlier this month, it engaged English beatboxer Kila Kela, who collaborated with a drummer and DJ to bring a 'live rock element' to its programme. 'People were going crazy and watching the performance, rather than just dancing and looking around,' he says. 'Good music and fun vibes are standard. But if you want to keep the crowd going, you need to keep reinventing; you need to keep surprising people. People get bored easily.'
