Chicago

The first time I wandered into this place, there was a guy on stage wearing — if fuzzy memory serves me correct — leather pants, no shirt, a pink boa, and what appeared to be quite a bit of smeared makeup. He and his two bandmates were pumping out piss-ass three-chord punk, the highlight of which was an inspired version of "Let It Be."

I don't really know what happens there on a regular basis, but this I thought you should know.