CBR’s

I loved Peter’s review (see below) — but I think I’m a bit more forgiving of CBR’s. My friend’s band played here last night (so yeah I’m one of *those* people), and the place was half-​decent. There were definitely a lot of dude-​bros walking around, and a couple of the bands playing DEFINITELY wanted to be in slipknot — but all the better because when I walked in I snickered to myself, knowing that my friend’s band would simultaneously shock and enrapture the audience — and they so did.
But the thing is, places like CBRs — as much as I personally despise Hot Topic (stop commodifying the revolution!!), and as much as I hate hate hate radio «metal,» the crowd here was into the music and they were genuine. And who can fault musicians wanting to do their thing? Passion is the key to life, after all. I liked CBRs more than I thought I would, but it definitely didn’t impress-​impress me, as in knock my socks off.
The stage is weird, and in the middle of the room, so you have to kinda walk around to the other side of the room when you first come in. I was slightly confused by this; also, there is a bar behind the stage, so you’re right behind the drummer, which is a bit awkward. The front of the stage is nice and open, though, and the back bar makes it more like a regular venue. Oh and also, the door guy pretty much sucked. I know doormen are supposed to be hardasses, but reallly? A girl by herself comes in and you have to be a jerk for no reason? Honestly? Pick your battles, sir! Ugh. Anyway, that aside, I’d go back if people I know are playing, but not really for any other reason.

If riff-​heavy neandrathal rock and Hot Topic chic is something you place a premium, a trip to CBR’s might be an experience that’s on your horizon. Over the past two years, this Brewery District club has become the definitive place in Columbus for bands that aspire to some day hear their overproduced cock-​rock power ballad be broadcast to millions of unsuspecting lemmings on The Blitz duke it out on a Saturday night. The crowd here is nothing but pierced and tatted Fred Durst stand-​ins and their pissy girlfriends/​baby mamas, save for the one Saturday of the month when CBR’s hosts a Battle of the Bands gig that attracts self-​deprecating Myspace scene kids from the suburbs like moths to a flame. The grand irony if CBR’s is that it’s rare for any of these people to be old enough to drink, except for maybe the occasional washed up bearded roady type dude that was a stagehand for Metallica back in their post-​sellout days. The mere fact that this place still exists is proof that there is indeed a market for this type of bar, but I’d just as soon be caught dry-​humping the night away next door at Major Woody’s than I would be supporting the watered down schlock rock that’s being cultivated on the stage at CBR’s as we speak. The bar isn’t too bad, and the drinks are cheap enough that getting dragged here to see your roommates friend’s cousins boyfriend’s band «that was THIS CLOSE to opening for Slipknot at the Al Rosa ten years ago» that you can drink your angst away and quickly forgot the whole thing ever happened in the first place. The sound system isn’t too bad either, not to say I, uhh, ever saw a show here or anything. Nope. Not me.