n his book Sins of South Beach, former Miami Beach mayor Alex Daoud claims credit for helping attract nightlife to South Beach. He recalls schooling a clueless city manager in 185 about the appeal that grimy and crime-infested Washington Avenue held for high-rolling clubgoers. “The people who go to upscale clubs aren't afraid of deteriorating neighborhoods,” Daoud explained. “In fact, slumming attracts club goers. The wealthy call it 'ambiance.'”

That was before the federal government charged Daoud with 41 felony counts, ranging from soliciting bribes to racketeering and money laundering. But that’s another story altogether. Two decades later Washington Avenue is still a bit grimy but with South Beach long-established as clubland, some of the same entrepreneurs who helped put its afterhours decadence on the map are pioneering a new wilderness.

In an economically depressed area across the bay called Overtown, dealers await customers on darkened corners, businesses from decades past remain boarded up, and streets and sidewalks are worn and torn. Vagrants converse with unseen specters and “are you lost?” is a common question posed to visitors.

“There is a certain danger and charm here,” said Travis Carey, the general manager of The Vagabond, the area’s latest club. (PS14 is next door and the recently opened White Room is just around the corner.) Only wicker fences separate it from the ambiance of a disenfranchised neighborhood. But inside palm trees, four-poster beds, tiki huts, sculptural light fixtures made out of branches, and a stone fire pit submerged in a fountain spraying water comprise the earthy, elemental Zen that is the Vagabond’s backyard bar.

Further insulated from “danger and charm” is a roomy industrial-meets-sophisticated lounge, with framed contemporary art, an exposed DJ platform, a stone-studded bar, and ethereal-looking orbs of light. The main room offers transparent suspended dome chairs, walls enhanced by the latest in sound technology, a wood dance floor, and another pebble-encrusted bar.