the mock-up.

The Decemberists show at Lupo's on Saturday was all kinds of awesome. "Lupo's at the Strand" (a highly confusing club name) is approximately 800 times nicer than Avalon: a classy, nicely decorated joint with a fantastic setup. The only clue that the Strand, like its Landsdowne brethren, turns into a dance club late at night are the two human-sized bird cages on either side of the room. I suppose they could hire some dancers for a Death Cab show if they were really in a pinch.

If I was writing this in my travel journal I'd scrawl a little diagram of the club to emphasize the greatness of the setup, but I'll try to do it justice verbally. The first two-thirds of the room, in front of the stage, are table-free and sunk down a bit -- I suppose this is where non-cage-dancing occurs during those club nights. There's a bar on each side of the floor for the folks down there. The raised main bar area takes up the back third of the room, and there are high-tops and vinyl couches and other comfy places to sit or ironically slump against. Tim and I chose to lean on the bar, nursing our sodas, and we had a perfect view of the stage, the floor, and the cages (in case some impromptu cage dancing occured (alas, no)). The main bar was also the de facto grown-up headquarters -- while most of the audience packed together on the floor, our area was completely uncrowded by a laid-back bunch of people, eighty percent of whom were, like us, probably just pretending to be grown-ups.

So, the venue was fantastic, and the music even more so -- I'm off to Newbury Comics as soon as possible to pick up the band's first two albums (and, while I'm there, play with the light saber they are now carrying, which Tim assures me is an amazing piece of technology). I love the Decemberists' songs because they make me think without driving me over the edge. Most of them make me feel hopeful and despairing and desperate about love, all at the same time, but unlike other music that evokes those emotions these songs don't make me want to drive my Toyota into the Charles. They just make me scratch my head a bit. Also, any tune about being swallowed by a whale is just good fun.

In addition to the fantastic music, our vantage point (leaning on the bar, as noted above) afforded us an unmatched view of the side show. This wasn't advertised on the marquee, but I believe it was titled "The conventionally good-looking bartender threatens bodily harm to anyone who does not leave a tip." He actually threw a bottle cap at one guy who tried to stiff him. It felt as though he was striking a mighty blow for all of us who have worked in the service industry; truly a sight to behold.