Problem with the name, everyone thinks of rats. The Rat Cellar. Dark, musty, with squeaky sounds in the margins of the room.

A much-loved and missed music bar, from what I can glean from the laments of the geezer demographic. And by “Music” I mean rock. Didn't start out that way, but they never do; it's always the places on the downward slide that take a sharp turn and save themselves for another 15 years.