Life is still a cabaret at this legendary venue, where song-and-dance routines, comedies, operettas, and full-scale musicals are performed beneath a beautiful Art Nouveau–style mirrored tent dating to 1912. Here, elaborately costumed, mostly German stars entertain guests who can bask in the vintage vibe while dining on international cuisine prior to the show or during intermission. The always innovative pair of owners/artistic directors, Holger Klotzbach and Lutz Deisinger, also opened a second tented venue, Tipi Zelt am Kanzleramt ("tipi" is German for "teepee") on the site of the old Tempodrome in 2002. From the outside, Tipi's pointy white tarps create an almost Alpine landscape in the Tiergarten; inside, bright lights and star-studded lineups help bring audiences back to the days of Christopher Isherwood. (Grosse Querallee, in Tiergarten park between the Chancellery and Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Tiergarten; 49-30-39-06-65-0; www.tipi-das-zelt.de).

This colossal wee-hours nightspot along an isolated stretch of the Spree River was once a power plant for the city's eastern districts. Now long lines of clubbers jockey to get past the strict bouncer, ascend the industrial metal staircase, and dance to throbbing techno or house spun by international DJs (its sound system is reportedly one of Berlin's loudest). Take in the, yes, panoramic view from the bar beside the main dance floor (its ceilings are soaringly high), or go upstairs to check out the sexy oversize image by star photographer Wolfgang Tillmans and the building's old power switches. You never know what else you might see here; while crowds are mixed these days, the club's a successor to the legendary gay fetish venue Ostgut, and its new-Berlin decadence carries on. Cameras are strictly verboten, and though the doors open at midnight, you shouldn't even think of coming before 2 a.m.

A prime pickup joint for lonely yet light-on-their-feet Berliners since 1913, Clärchen's Ballhaus reopened in 2005 after a year of closed doors. But it has luckily managed to escape the renovations that have homogenized other traditional Berlin spaces—only the bathrooms, kitchen, and bar were modernized—and even some of the bow-tied, old-timer employees have remained (the coat-check man is a vestige of another era). Lined with silver streamers and vintage fixtures and furnishings, the huge ground-floor ballroom offers tango and swing nights as well as lessons in standard ballroom dancing during the week; weekends attract elderly regulars (many of whom dance breathtakingly well), young art-worlders, and the occasional celebrity (Charlotte Rampling was spotted here during the 2006 Berlin Film Festival). The music is sometimes live, sometimes DJ-spun, and sometimes unapologetically cheesy (Beach Boys, anyone?). Worth a look is the fantastically ornate hall upstairs—a stunning chandeliered event space whose mirrors and moldings haven't been touched since the 1920s. Before cutting the rug, try a thin-crust pizza or German bockwurst at the tables in the front garden, a favorite summer spot.

Although located in Berlin's Friedrichshain neighborhood—known for its youthful, punky attitude and low rents—CSA is designed within an inch of its life to feel like a minimalist airport lounge from some Gattaca-like future. The setting in the old offices of Czech Airlines certainly has something to do with this. A neat row of upholstered seats fronts the bar where the clientele is a sophisticated crowd drawing heavily from the worlds of fashion and publishing. The bartenders are reputed to be among Berlin's best mixologists and the view of the street is worth the price of the cocktails. Karl Marx Allee is East Berlin's Park Avenue, a marble-clad, Stalin-inspired boulevard of high-rise apartments for old-time apparatchiks.

Open daily from 7 pm May through October, and from 9 pm November through April.

After Heinz Gindullis established himself with the now-you-see-it, now-you-don't nightclub Cookies, which opens, closes and moves shop with maddening speed, he opened the upscale Greenwich Bar. Now a classic on the cocktail circuit, it's a favorite of young celebrities. There's a green backlit bar, illuminated fish tanks, and lime-colored leather banquets. There's no name on the door and the telephone number is unpublished, but by now Greenwich is no big secret.

To many in the art world, Helmut Newton is Berlin's favorite son, and he surely deserves a watering hole named after him. This bar on the Gendarmenmarkt—near the square's luxury hotels, with prices to match—is popular with older sophisticated and celebrity types. A large 18-foot-long print of the risqué Waling Women hangs on one wall; it's the largest individual Newton piece in private hands. The rest of the interiors were styled by the German architect Hans Kollhoff, who opted for heavy leather chairs, green marble, and dark oak.

This small pink bar with retro wallpaper and black leather couches projects icons of gay Hollywood on the wall: Silent companions to your evening are films starring Rock Hudson and Doris Day, and, inevitably, Sharon Stone and Liza Minnelli. Your hosts are low-key expats from Melbourne; although they run a Girl Savoir Vivre disco party for lesbians and their friends on Friday nights, every other evening here is all about schwullesbische (gay/lesbian lounging). The bar sits on a quiet street, but running parallel is the busy drag of Oranienburgerstrasse, known for its crumbling arts venue, Tacheles, and its ladies of the night.

The facade is already one of Berlin's more atmospheric spots: a collection of metal grating and rotted wood plastered over with ancient rock 'n' roll posters, on a street that has seen more protests and rioting than most. SO36 is Berlin's CBGB: the place where German punk started, as well as the launch pad for much of the country's 1980s musical talent. Its glory eras may have been the late 1970s and '80s, when David Bowie and Iggy Pop would mix it up with the anarchists and countercultural types who had settled in Kreuzberg, but it continues to be a neighborhood center of interest. Inside, it's a long, deep performance space culminating in a stage, with facilities that are marginal at best. Most nights feature loud multiple bills of hardcore acts you've never heard of, but there's also the Turkish-themed Gayhane party, held the last Saturday of every month, and Café Fatal, a Sunday-night ballroom-dance party that includes a dance lesson and a cabaret act. And not to be missed is Kiez Bingo, on the second Tuesday of each month, an event that unites the neighborhood's graying punks, hipsters, yuppies, and old people for a rousing revival-hall-style night of good old-fashioned fun (take note, there will be a bingo hiatus from May to October).

In a cavernous former bakery from the Prussian era, the new Spindler & Klatt has brought several international nightlife trends to Berlin: so-called "vertical" nightlife, where guests can dine and dance in the same location, and giant oversized beds instead of tables and chairs. Guests are served Pan-Asian cuisine as they lounge horizontally in soft blue light. It's a sexy, informal vibe. Those who can resist the temptation of a postmeal nap are welcome in the after-hours dance club.

The newest incarnation of this ultrapopular restaurant/bar/club/live-music venue (it also operates the tattoo salon next door) is by far the biggest and best: In a former Irish pub, a cowboy-hatted American expat known only as "Wally" serves up delicious burgers and other downmarket Yank fare starting early in the night. Later, live, predominantly rock music by emerging musical acts (or local DJ sets) are on offer in the grottolike basement, and the always-packed main space fills to the gills with Berlin's art, fashion, and celebrity crowds. Despite the Irish touches and the odd Chinese trinkets dragged along as decoration from a previous location, the place has a strangely gunslinging, saloon-type feel as well as a low-key dress code. Ladies beware: In the wee hours, White Trash can live up to its name by becoming a bit of a meat market.