Scotty O’Boyle’s

Came home to visit friends and ended up here to see a friend-of-a-friend’s band perform. The bar itself was great; bartenders friendly, $ 3 shock top draft special, $ 2 PBR bottle and shot specials. $ 20 credit card minimum means you’ll be nice and drunk by the end of the night. Music was not something I would listen to otherwise but was still a ton of fun. People were friendly and clearly enjoying themselves. All in all I’d say give it try, if not to experience something you normally wouldn’t.

New England ftw. My Connecticut-​i-​fied holidaze led me to Scotty O’Boyle’s last night for skinhead reggae night. But before you get your undies in a bunch about «skinhead?!», plz see this article about last night’s event which nicely explains, in general public terms, the genesis of this British working class originating rock music subculture. This is the subculture I grew up with. It was incredibly fun (ny), and incredibly weird, to be at Scotty O’Boyle’s listening to Sham 69, the Skatallites, and Cock Sparrer last night. This sort of dressed up musical spectacle just doesn’t exist anymore back home in Columbus.
Scotty O’Boyle’s itself is just fine as an Irish pub — and it’s a plus that its a neighborhood hangout, because even as the pub was packed wall to wall at some points with Fred Perry and Lonsdale insigniaed patrons, the bartenders were still fun, friendly, and fast at getting drinks so that people could get back to stomping and screaming «if the kids are united…» There was also a nice mix of people, even though most patrons were obviously there to show get back in touch with their freshcut side — there was a UPS man in uniform, a very old Billy Idol look-​alike who drunkenly blew kisses at me, and plenty of your regular type of regulars — you know, drunken crying crackheads and the like. All the good stuff the Silver City has to offer. :D
I liked Scotty O’Boyle’s and this reggae night made me remember a time from my teen years that seemed sort of mythical at this point, so thanks to organizer Dom Piccirillo and DJ Pete Morcey and all the «sussed up, tattooed kids» (to quote the review I linked you to) in boots n’ braces, Docs-​n-​socks, flights and Sambas — who showed up to dance. Eff yeah, Connecticut.