Monday, October 4, 2010

Lady Gaga

In Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs Chuck Klosterman explains:
I have countless friends who describe themselves as 'cynical,' and they're all wrong. True cynics would never classify themselves as such, because it would mean that they know their view of the world is unjustly negative; despite their best efforts at being grumpy, a self-described cynic is secretly optimistic about normal human nature.
This and "every relationship is fundamentally a power struggle, and the individual in power is whoever likes the other person less" are two of my favorite quotes in the book - the "power struggle" being one of my favorite ever - not only because they're 100% correct, but that they're honest - and essentially so is Chuck Klosterman.

Anyways, the first one is relevant here because, change it around and it works for music snobs (some of my least favorite people on the planet):
 I have countless friends who describe themselves as 'music snobs,' and they're all wrong. True music snobs would never classify themselves as such, because it would mean that they know their view of music is unjustly pretentious; despite their best efforts at being grumpy, a self-described music snob  is secretly optimistic about the world of music, pop music in particular.
I am not a music snob. I like a lot of music, and I hate a lot of music. Many have not heard of some of my favorite bands, but they're not obscure, post-modern-uber-metal-pre-ironic 1970s German quartets or something - in other words, many have heard of those same bands as well. As a music lover, I seek out music beyond the mainstream because I simply don't think a lot of mainstream music is good, and while I may roll my eyes at others' musical tastes, it's because top 40 alt-country music, for example, truly does suck - and I think people who listen to it are either just not that into music (which is fine), stupid (ignorance is bliss) or too lazy to search out good stuff (inexcusable). And for the record, I said "top 40 alt-country" - not just country - for a reason. Country music can be fantastic.

I feel about popular music the same way Anthony Bourdain feels about mass produced foodstuff. I think it is, basically, evil. Not because of the whole "giant corporations are evil and are taking over our lives" thing, though that surely doesn't help. But simply because it doesn't taste that good and you feel like shit after you eat it. If fresher, better quality ingredients tasted the same as stale, shitty ingredients than so be it, fuck all that free range, organic, local, no hormone, crap. The reality though, of course, is that free range, organic, local, no hormone food just tastes better. And, to me, a Neko Case song tastes better than one by Fergie.

I do, however,  like a lot of pop music and music so-called "music snobs" would turn their nose at (Pearl Jam remains one of my favorite bands of all time). If a song is good, it's good - whether by Brittany Spears or My Bloody Valentine. The big problem I have with most pop music is that the performers did not actually write the music or the lyrics, and as a music lover and part-time (aka hobbyist) musician, it just kind of a) offends me and b) depresses me that these people are famous.


So, knowing that this is how I feel, and fresh off of spending a ridiculous $240 for a Lady Gaga ticket, Stephanie, a co-worker of mine, thought it would be funny if I personally reviewed each track of Gaga's Fame Monster album, for the delight of her and my other co-worker Atticus, who will be attending the show with her. Everyone but Stephanie and Atticus can stop reading now (seriously), as I am aware that no one, and I mean no one, cares how I feel about Lady Gaga. I just happened to have nothing else to do today and am feeling "creative."

And before I start, let me say, I think there is no doubt that Lady Gaga will hold a spot in zeitgeist immortality as this generation's Madonna. Like Madonna, Gaga is an entertainer, and she is a very good one. She is not however, a musician. Britney Spears was never going to be a new Madonna, partly because her songs suck, partly because those songs will not and have not stood well against time (minus Toxic and I'm a Slave 4 U), and partly because she is a product of the late 90's/the boy band era of pop music, one of the worst in history.

Lady Gaga, The Fame Monster:

1. Bad Romance. Anyone who claims not to like this song is one of the idiotic, "music snobs" mentioned above who are still trying to make up for not being cool in high school. This is a good pop song. Possibly great. Every now and then Atticus catches me on my walk to work in the morning - a time otherwise devoted to silence and peace before a day of hell -  and gives me a lift. Inevitably, he is blaring - at 730am, on a weekend day - music I'd rather hang myself than give 30 seconds of my life to. However, "Bad Romance" may be the only song on any album in Atticus' car I feel otherwise about
so early in the morning.

2. Alejandro. Whenever I hear this song for the rest of my life I will think of how truly unattractive Gaga looks in its video, which will remind me of an unflattering picture of her I once glimpsed over in Star magazine, which will remind me that Lady Gaga, minus her stunning body and beneath all that make up, is surprisingly very average looking. I like that about lady Gaga. (Also, I can't believe artists are still doing the talking thing on tracks, I thought that died with Boyz II Men - at least it should have. Add to it a fake accent and, ouch. Song is still better than any Brittney song, though).

3. Monster. (First Listen) Again with the talking. Chorus sounds very club-ready. What's up with the guy in the background - "wanna talk to her she's hot as hell" - ? I think she just said "get your balls off of me." That's kind of awesome. Nope, just checked. It was "get your paws..." However, I somehow missed "We might've fucked not really sure" according to metrolyrics.com. I like that one. Don't like this song, however.

4. Speechless. (First Listen (I Think)) Wow. I like this one. I wouldn't listen to it with the windows down in the car or anything, but still. I think putting this next to a Britney ballad like "Not Yet A Woman" gives a fantastic example of why Britney songs are awful and shouldn't be taken seriously.

5. Dance in the Dark. (First Listen) She sounds almost too much like Madonna in the intro, that must be on purpose. I'm skipping this song. I can't sit through close to five minutes of this. Oh, I skipped to the end - definitely intentionally copying the Madonna thing. Cool? Next.

6. Telephone. Is this or "Bad Romance" her bigger hit? I don't know. I actually watched this video as soon as it came out so I could catch a glimpse of her blurred out Gaga, if you will. I don't know why people ever thought she was a guy, she's just a talented, mildly unattractive woman, duh. God, I hate Beyonce so fucking much. Remove her from this song and its listenable.

7. So Happy I Could Die. (First Listen) Boring. It's strange how she goes from such great pop songs to such mediocre club background music. Atticus and Stephanie, this has got to be your least favorite song, right? I do have to say, even her crappier songs are semi-saved by lyrics like "I touch myself and it's alright."

8. Teeth. I take it all back. If there was ever a suitable spoken word opening line to a song it's "Don't worry I've done this before. Show me your teeth." The beat is okay, song gets old early.

(I'm aware that the deluxe edition has another batch of songs that I will not be listening to. However, it's worth noting that due to my girlfriend I've unfortunately heard "Summerboy" one hundred times. I say Gwen Stefani beat her to that song already.)

Favorite Songs: "Bad Romance" "Speechless" "Alejandro"
Least Favorite: Every other song.

I was going to say the lyrics saved the album for me, but I can't find any conclusive evidence that she alone wrote any of it. Her website claims she did, but everywhere else says up to three other people helped on some songs. Weak.

Overall, it's exactly what I expected. Not my thing, but I like her music much more than some of the other crap out there - say Nickleback or Ke$sha (though I secretly follow Ke$ha on Twitter, it's fucking hysterical - to laugh at not with of course). And her big hits are big hits for a reason. There's worse music out there than Lady Gaga, that's for sure. And for those of us not into the music, at least it's entertaining to watch someone march around in a meat dress.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Built To Spill @ Headliners Music Hall August 29th 2010

This wasn't meant to be, nor is it a music blog. It just so happens that the last two shows I've attended here in Louisville have been the only things to motivate me to post blog entries, as by the time I'm done writing and formatting happylouisville.com articles (and now Louisville Libertarian Examiner articles) I tend to loose interest.

Anyways, just a few notes about the show:
  • I went by myself. After plans to join the Zombie Attack (which I didn't really want to do anyways) fell through, I used it as an excuse to check out one of my as of then unseen (besides the 2008 Sasquatch! Music Festival, and that doesn't count) favorite bands. I have no problem going to shows alone, I find it relaxing. It's just like going to a movie alone.
  • Why am I plagued by jock morons who pay to go to shows just to scream-talk over the music, hug their girlfriends from behind, and only pay attention once every half hour to throw out devil-horns and scream the name of the fucking band? (I moved, the show improved 10-fold)
  • Unless it's some obscure B-side to a single that was featured in a Taiwanese action movie that only you, the band, and 1,000 other people have ever heard before, please do not scream out (really popular) songs you want to hear during a small show like this one. It makes us all look bad.
  • Built to Spill are old. Scott Plouf (drums) looks like my old landlord in Chicago, Brett Nelson (bass) looks like my next door neighbor who is always yelling at his cat (named "Crazy") to get out of the middle of the street, Jim Roth (guitar) looks a little like the Dad in Juno, and Doug Martsch looks like Doug Martsch. Brett Netson (guitar) just looks kind of awesome. 
  • Watching a guitarist (Brett Netson) smoke an entire cigarette without ever touching it, while playing guitar with a cloud of smoke around his head, will never, ever, ever get old.
  • Plagued by sound issues, the show was still great. Though the lights were way too bright for the first half (until Doug Martsch complained) there is something comforting about a bunch of dudes in t-shirts jamming out. No frills, no light shows, no smoke machines, a minute here or there to fix a broken string, whatever. In fact, this is one of those times the whole formality of the encore seemed almost comical. I could see them standing behind the curtain.
  • Presumably because of the Zombie Walk, the place was at half-capacity at best. At first I thought this (coupled with the sound issues, light issues, and the fact that the band had to come on and do their own sound check for some reason) was bothering them, as they looked half-interested at times. However, I remember them looking exactly the same in front of 30,000 people at Sasquatch so I think that's just Built To Spill, and while "Carry the Zero" is one of my top 50 favorite songs of all time, I'm sure I'd find it hard to put on a smile while I played it for the 357,892nd time (just an estimate).
  • That said, as I had looked up other previous set lists from this tour and found that they almost always played "Carry the Zero" as the last song before the encore, and this didn't happen Sunday night, I feared the worst - and kind of understood. When they closed the encore with it, I'm not embarrassed to say the first chords choked me up a bit. a bit. 
  • The band broke down the stage themselves post-set, while chatting with fans, signing autographs, and taking pictures. Fantastic. 
Overall, I'm very glad I went, and it pains me to know that this intimate show in a half-empty music hall comes off the tails of 20-year indie rock veterans opening for Kings of Leon in amphitheaters across the country this summer. Ugh.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Black Keys @ Iroquois Amphitheather August 11th 2010

I went to The Black Keys show at the Iroquois Park Amphitheater last night and realized it's been entirely too long since I've seen a band at an outdoor amphitheater. I grew up about a 20 minute drive away from what was once Great Woods (then Tweeter Center, now Comcast Center (ugh)) in Mansfield, MA and my friends and I went 2-3 times a Summer. As I sat in my seat with my $7 24oz beer contemplating if I was getting too old to of just brought a small bottle of bourbon in my pants (I decided no) thoughts turned to how amazing it was to actually sit, relax and patiently await the Morning Benders' opening set.

As I racked my brain as to the last time I was at a venue like this, I was shocked to realize I had still been in college. I had rented a Zipcar (a Scion xB I believe) with my buddy and drove down to the aforementioned Tweeter Center to meet up and tailgate with some hometown friends. That I have absolutely no clue what band I saw that day is a little disconcerting - as that means I had either A) rented a car for the sole purpose of driving it to a parking lot, drinking, and then returning it to Boston without seeing the show or B) rented a car for the sole purpose of driving it to a parking lot, drinking so much I wouldn't remember who played four years later, and then returning it to Boston. Ahh, college.

(For the record, given that I may or may not have gone in and that one of my high school friends chose the show, I'd say it was either 311 or Dave Matthews Band. Along with the Allman Brothers, Pearl Jam and Tom Petty the former two play Great Woods almost annually - but I'd of certainly gone in for any of the latter three. And would definitely still go in for Pearl Jam to this day.)

The point is, it had been awhile since I'd seen a show at a venue like Iroquois, and that it was The Black Keys (one of my top two yet-to-of-seen-live bands before last night, the other is The White Stripes) made it a nearly perfect night.

The show itself was superb. The Black Keys are sublimely loud live (even more of a blessing on this particular night as the 40 year old men behind me attempted to have a conversation through the entire set) and they did a great job of mixing old hits with the more complex new stuff - which The Morning Benders' bass and key players sat in on. I had wondered if the Keys were going to have a touring band for the newer songs - but why pay for musicians when you can just have a couple guys from the supporting band sit in? And one has to assume it's been a treat for the members of the Benders who've gotten to join the duo on stage.

As I watched Dan Auerbach absolutely punish his guitar, I couldn't help but picture the first unsuspecting friend who saw a guitar in the corner of Dan's room 15 years ago and asked, "Oh, you play? Any good?" To which Dan responded by picking up his instrument and blowing the friends scalp off with some nasty blues riff and distortion. Seriously, the dude can fucking play guitar. As I drum, I usually find myself watching the drummer at shows, but even with Patrick Carney's kit on a lift and positioned at the front of the stage, one can't help but be drawn to Dan Auerbach like a magnet.

Like my girlfriend said at the end, as much as no music snob will ever admit it, some concerts hit a point where you're kind of ready for it to end and this is not so with the Black Keys. It helps that they don't really have any slow, good time for a bathroom break songs (I had to pee three songs in and never even thought about moving) and that they're just downright good entertainers.

Some credit has to be given to the amphitheater though. My girlfriend and I never took a seat once the Keys took the stage, but there's just something about knowing a chair is there if you need it that gives you an extra boost of energy. If you had been as close as we were to the stage at, say, Lollapalooza, you'd have to turn and meander through 1,000 people just to get to a 5x5ft opening, let alone a spot to sit in the grass (to say nothing of the claustrophobia and crowd anxiety that accompany the big festivals). Can't see around the 6'4" guy in front of you? Doesn't happen at an amphitheater. Even if the guy has half a foot on you you've got a foot on him with the stadium-style seating. There's not a bad spot in the house.

Lastly, while festivals certainly have their place and time (The 2008 Sasquatch Festival at The Gorge in Washington was without a doubt one of the top 5 best weekends I've had in my life. Ever.) nothing beats one of your favorite bands headlining their own show, not one stage, of one day, of one weekend. Everyone was there to see The Black Keys - and it showed.

Suffice it to say, I'll be going back to Iroquois next time someone I'm even marginally interested in is playing. Only next time I'll probably show up a little early and join the surprisingly large amount of tailgaters - sans Scion of course.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Quality of LIfe

A former co-worker of mine's mother passed away in Nashville last week, and she used the unfortunate circumstances to stop in Louisville with her husband for the night on the way back to Chicago. Neither had been to Louisville and neither - especially the husband - had very high hopes for the city. (I'm happy to report however, that they were pleasantly surprised with Louisville, and left with a new perspective on a place they once considered inconsequential.)

During the brief tour - Bourbons Bistro for a flight of bourbon, O'Shea's after a brief walk around the neighborhood, cheap food at The Back Door then a stop by the beer cave in the Mid-City Mall ValuMarket so they could get supplies and check out their great selection which I had hyped up - we talked mostly of what had changed in our respective lives since we last saw each other (just under a year ago).

Nothing out of the ordinary; They moved to a different neighborhood in Chicago, the Husband is about to start a better job, they got a dog, etc. I had a little more news - which seems like a lot more news as I tend to be incredibly long winded, I'm sure they were grateful to have a drink in front of them at all times - only because I had changed cities since we last talked, and some baggage comes with such a move.

There was one part of the conversation however, that inspired me to record it here, and that was while explaining how, because Louisville is an all around (taxes, rent, groceries, bars) cheaper place than Chicago, I tend to go out much, much more often than I did in Chicago, and have the time and money to do out-of-the-ordinary stuff. The Husband nonchalantly replied, "Yeah, quality of life. You have a better quality of life here than you did before."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."

 A Better Quality of Life. What a great thing to have. And an easy thing to have in smaller cities. It's why my girlfriend and I moved to Louisville. Friends in places of supposedly higher culture - Chicago, LA, New York, Seattle - liked to make fun when they found out I was moving here. But you know what, lots of people in those cities' quality of life sucks. High rent for shit hole apartments, high taxes, no savings. What's the point of living in "the middle of it all" if the weight of living there suffocates you?

I don't know that I've really ever thought about my quality of life before - at least not in those words - but knowing that mine is better than it was a year ago, or even two years ago in Seattle, erased any last lingering insecurities about moving to Louisville. I don't know how long we'll stay, but no matter what I'm 100% coming here was the right decision.

Friday, July 30, 2010

No no, there's only one "t" in Chasity

Perhaps nowhere do I feel more out of place than at a club. I'm not a club kind of guy. I take paying just for the convenience of spending more money inside someones establishment as a personal affront to my intelligence (I can just see the owner in his office, peering over his pile of money through a double-sided mirror as the crowd shuffles in: "Holy shit! The moron just paid to get in! Muahahaha."). I don't like overpriced drinks, I don't like high-maintenance women (or men), while I see the merit in some dance and techno music I generally don't enjoy listening to it, and I don't like spending time in a place where the women are in no way attracted to guys like me and the men make me feel physically inadequate - yes, I'm happily committed, but I still like to feel good about myself.

As I'm on the edge or sounding like a bigot I should pause here to balance the above paragraph with a few more facts: I have no problem with dancing. I like dancing. I like Michael Jackson and Lady Gaga. In fact, I even enjoy Ke$ha - Yeah, I spell her name with the proper "$". Though, I like Ke$ha for same reason I like Jersey Shore. She's a train wreck, and I enjoy ridiculous idiots who take themselves seriously and seemingly don't understand that 90% of their fan base is laughing at them not with them - at least, God, I hope that's the case. Plus, it's cathartic and American to look down on people who are richer, more successful and most likely less intelligent than you are. Well, so much for my redeeming second paragraph...


The point is, with my aforementioned loathing towards the club culture, what event could possibly get me to a place called Prime Lounge - Why do all clubs have names like this? Why can't there be a super chic, super posh, super elite club named Karen's Place? - in downtown Louisville, Kentucky on a Wednesday night? Chasity's Birthday Party, that's what.


Chasity is a young woman born-and-bred in Southern Indiana, and a co-worker of mine. (Yes, Chasity. As many people had done before me, I referred to her as Chastity for the first three months I knew her -  Chastity having, you know, precedence as a name for human beings and all.) It was Chasity's birthday last Wednesday and this is how she invited me to her party (insert Indiana twang here):

Oh, you know Wednesday is my birthday, my favorite holiday of the year. Oh, I don't fuck around on my birthday. I treat it like its prom - though I never went to prom, I didn't stay in school long enough. I get up real early and hang around in my pajamas, then I get my nails done. Then I get my hair bleached and go buy a new outfit. Did I tell you about my cake? Its a big prescription pill bottle. You better be coming to my party, its at Prime Lounge. I'll be there at 10:00. They have $5 bottles of wine on Wednesday nights. Last year I made everyone give me a birthday card with their favorite "Chasity memory" in it. That's how my boyfriend found out I used to be a lesbian. This year I want everyone to bring me a mix CD with songs that, when they hear them they think of Chasity.
How the hell do I not go to that?

The funny thing is, I wasn't sure how I felt about Chasity at first. She got hired where we work the same day as me so we had an initial common ground, but even while she is exactly the type of person I had begun preparing myself to share a community with the minute "Yeah, I'll move to Louisville. Why the fuck not" came out of my mouth, I wasn't sure how to handle her. Her naivete rubbed me the wrong way, she was my age but we might as well of lived on different planets, she was quite literally addicted to Mountain Dew.

But meeting people like Chasity is all part of the beauty of traveling around the country. I've now had the privilege of living on both coasts, the biggest city in the Midwest, and now the crossroads of the Midwest and South, and I'm without a doubt the better for it. In his books and on his TV show, Anthony Bourdain repeatedly reflects that, despite all his travels over the last decade, the more he sees the less he feels he really knows. He couldn't be more right. It's an old adage, but it's stuck around for a reason.


Chasity has since become one of my closest co-workers. We don't spend time together outside of work - visiting a different planet just for some company is a long way to travel - but I certainly enjoy our conversations. Part of this is because - like Ke$ha - Chasity is, in a word, ridiculous. She's the only woman I've ever known that can say something so perverted and obscene that I can't even muster up a response - instead closing my eyes, shaking my head, laughing and walking away

She's still addicted to Mountain Dew, enjoying her first 20oz of the day with her coffee around 7am. Though to her credit, as her Doctor has explained the Dew is basically destroying her body the way alcohol kills an alcoholic's, she's tried numerous times to quit - but the headaches and stress usually knock her off the wagon within a few days. Even when she's off the Dew however, she takes enough of those energy pills one finds at gas station counters to land someone like myself in the hospital with an anxiety attack.

I won't get into details, but I don't think she'd have any problem with me saying that her home life with her live-in, aspiring rapper boyfriend tends to get a little messy at best, and her kids sound like a handful. Though, I don't know what she expected when she named one of them Maliki after the sinister kid from Children of the Corn (seriously).

So, this is what got me, hater-of-all-things-club, to Prime Lounge in Louisville, Kentucky on a Wednesday night. And there I was, sipping on a $5 bottle of Chardonnay like it was a 40oz while Chasity, looking good all dolled up in her new birthday outfit, 4-inch heels,  freshly painted nails, and newly bleached, purple-tipped faux-hawk drank her birthday Patron out of a glass, like any classy, cosmopolitan woman would do on her favorite holiday.

Who's the white trash now?

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

New happy louisville

It's been awhile since my last post, not because I didn't have much to say - I always have something to say - but because I didn't have much to say that pertained to Louisville-area happy hour and bar specials that wasn't already posted on my examiner page. When I came upon this realization last week, it lead to a mini-dilemma.

Why, exactly, do I need a blog and a website dedicated to happy hour specials?

The answer, quite simply, is that I don't - and neither does Louisville. I admittedly started happy louisville because I was "sick of googling 'louisville happy hour' and not getting any worthwhile results." Louisville is the 4th US and 6th overall city I've lived in in my quarter of a century here on Earth, and never as a recent transplant to any of them had I found a reliable website that simply gave a brief overview of a bar and/or restaurant and their happy hour/daily special info. After all, isn't that all one really needs? So, I thought happy louisville would be a good place to keep track of all the happy hours I came across, write some semi-entertaining tidbits about each bar/restaurant and, hopefully, help out fellow google searchers like myself.

The problem is that I already do that on Examiner. I thought that happy louisville could supplement my examiner reviews with more honest, first-person accounts and anecdotes from a "restaurant insider." The truth is, why the hell would anyone read a review about a bar, get all the info they need, then go to another site to read another - slightly different - review about the same bar, by the same person? No one, that's who. Especially when you can skip both and just follow it all on twitter.

So, that was a very long winded way of saying, welcome to the new happy louisville. A place for "rants, reviews, realizations and observations of Louisville food, drink and culture from the perspective of an east coast transplant." When the mood strikes - or something about a place conjures up words and thoughts too inappropriate and unprofessional for Examiner - I'll still write about food and drink,  which should be often, as half of my life is eating and drinking, but just not in such a "review" format. There's more than enough of those sites to go around, anyways (like mine).

You can still find happy hour stuff in the twitter feed over there to the right, but I'll be using this space for - hopefully entertaining - perspectives on Louisville life, Kentucky culture and life in general from someone who, five years ago, told himself and his born-in-Ashland, KY girlfriend, "I will never live in Kentucky" and now lives here, and does so happily.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

O'Shea's Happy Hour

I tend to stay clear of pubs. Yes, it's partially because I'm from Boston, whose Irish history gets overplayed for tourists and therefore completely unauthentic pubs - as almost every American "Irish" pub is - can be found on every street in the city. Yes, its partially because I worked at quite possibly the most famous pub in America if not the world (trust me, they come from far and wide) and possibly the most unauthentic of the unauthentics (though it wasn't always that way).

Mostly, however, I stay clear of pubs because I simply don't enjoy being at one. They're almost always overpriced, most have a very "chainy" feel to them, they're a dime a dozen, and I just prefer dives. True pubs exist (and are great) but unfortunately the "Murray's" "O'Hanrahan's" and " Fitzy's" of our fine country tend to serve nachos brought to you buy cheap-looking women in short skirts who dance on the bar from time to time.

O'Shea's is, luckily, not quite that extreme and judging from the pictures on its walls is at least a fun place to be on St. Patrick's Day. Right down the street from Flanagan's (which it owns and I actually prefer) Molly Malone's (which it doesn't own and I admittedly don't care for) and that other one Donegan's (which just sort of exists), it actually took me awhile to finally go in any of the pubs on Baxter as their close proximity to one another too closely resembled the almost unbearable Faneuil Hall bars in Boston (think 4th Street Live). In fact, I probably mumbled something critical about "pub-alley" every time my girlfriend and I drove down Baxter for the first month I was in Louisville.

O'Shea's sticks out though, because of one thing: its patio. I love its patio. It's street level and practically on the sidewalk, its wide open, it's big, it has trees (and therefore shade, though the sun barely gets in to the patio area in the afternoon anyways), an outside bar, table service, and now a great happy hour. As far as a place to get a Guiness and sit outside goes, O'Shea's wins. At least on "pub alley."

What's more? They're going to start playing two movies on a projector screen on the patio every Monday night. The only time I've watched movies in a bar before was at one of my all-time favorites in Allston, MA  and it was usually very dark inside, very empty, I was on a large couch, and drinking $2 Brubaker. However, a movie outside, on a projector screen, on a summer Monday is an admittedly cool idea should it actually work, and if Monday's can keep the crowd minimal enough to actually hear the movie it's probably worth checking out.

My Examiner article is here

Specials are here:

  • Happy Hour: $2 Bud Light pints, $3.50 well drinks, $10 bottles of Twisted brand wine, 1/2 off appetizers. Mon - Thur 5-8pm, Fridays 5-9pm starting July 16th CANCELED
  •  Monday: "Sunset Cinema" on the patio. A large projection screen will show two films every Monday night, starting July 19th at sunset.
  • Tuesday: $10 bottles of Twisted brand wines, after 6pm
  • Wednesday: $3 Bells Oberon pints after 9pm, featured unique and/or specialty beer on tap at 7pm
  • Thursday: Four kinds of Pinnacle Vodka punch bowls for $29.99 after 9pm


O'Shea's Traditional Irish Pub


956 Baxter Ave


(502) 589-7373