Evan Dando is drunk. No. Make that wasted. He ambles on stage, welcomes us with a slurred “Hello Susquehanna,” and berates a roadie for putting his guitar strap on the wrong way. After removing it himself and fixing it twice, it’s the same as it was when he first put it on. Then, Dippy Dando, alterna-god of yore, locks still flowing and jaw still jutting, steps up to the microphone and opens with “Goodnight and Welcome.” Mumbling something about tequila, he proceeds to sing “Happy Birthday” to no one in particular. This, you could say, is a bad omen.

Great rock clubs aren’t manufactured nor are they deliberate.  They evolve organically from a feeling, a desire to honor the essence of rock and roll.  It is rock and roll that informs everything about the club, from the genuine vibe when you walk in the door, to the ample sound, to the warm and familiar staff.