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Sure, every bar in this neighborhood seems to be a former brothel, but this one’s previous incarnations includes an illicit karaoke joint and—even sweeter—a candy shop. As tribute to the latter identity, co-owner Lisa Gartner still sells Lemonheads, Milk Duds, and other movie-theater goodies at her small bar, but don’t get the wrong idea: This place is as free of gimmickry and as steeped in rock cred as Gartner’s other joint Welcome to the Johnsons. Quite simply, Sweet Paradise is where you loaf on low-slung studded-leather banquettes (running down both walls) while grooving to a jukebox mix of Bloc Party and TV on the Radio. In the early part of the week, a rotating array of D.J.’s (mostly friends of the owners) spin an even savvier mix of everything from Afro-Brazilian beats to Argentinian hardcore. Happy hour ends when the turntables rev up yet cans of Genessee Cream Ale are $3 all night long: The upstate brew may be blandly drinkable but it’s also, yes, a little bit sweet. — Daniel Maurer