A & J's Music Room

Neon light cuts right through the dark on South Meridian, marking A & J's Music Room as the only dive still kicking on this block. You'll park in the gravel lot out back because the street fills up fast when heavy acts roll through. The door guy takes your cash without looking up from his phone, and you're stepping straight into a wall of guitar feedback and smoke lingering near the low ceiling.

It's a classic neighborhood saloon setup where the bar runs down the left side and a cramped wooden stage occupies the far corner. There aren't fancy craft beers on tap here, just pitchers of cold domestic brew and tall pours of well whiskey that don't cost much. The regulars standing near the speakers know each other, and you'll find yourself nodding along to the heavy basslines vibrating straight through the scuffed floor.

Sound bounces hard off the wood paneling, so don't expect pristine vocals when the amps get cranked. You can grab a basket of fries from the kitchen window if you're starving, but mostly people are packed tight against the edge of the tiny stage watching the drummer sweat through his shirt under that flickering red bulb above the cymbal stand.