I went out last night intending to have a couple of drinks with my fellow, and ended up listening to mediocre noise rock at the Lobo Saloon. I swear that I do go out sometimes to do things other than see bands, but frequently live music comes to me.

I don’t think I knew that the Lobo had live music; or, more accurately, I don’t think I have ever thought about the Lobo for long enough to consider it. It’s the sort of bar where the corners smell vaguely of sperm and bleach, where the pool table sits on top of empty kegs for easy moving. So I don’t think about going there to listen to music or to interact in any way with my fellow humans–the Lobo is the sort of place I go to drink whiskey and wear leather.

The bands are the sort that aspire to play at the Funhouse someday, generally punk and grindcore sorts. I vaguely remember hearing about fights there a couple of years ago, something about skinheads, but since I tend to head over there during the week I’ve never seen any problems.

The Lobo (and its neighboring art space, the Lo_fi) are both businesses that I’ve been watching with interest as the threat of Allentown looms higher. The neighborhood is slowly changing–the owners of Prost have opened up a second space with an unpronounceable name and uncomfortable seats–and the light rail tracks are going in. I’d like to think that there will be room for both well-lit yuppie bars and dank holes-in-the-wall once all the condos are finished and sold, but the dismantling of Conworks and the banishment of Hines make me wary of these types of changes.

I trust Paul Allen and his development plans about as far as I can throw them, so you might want to experience places like the Lobo while they’re still around. Just remember to bring some hand sanitizer with you.