The annals of rock are full of family affairs -- Angus and Malcolm Young form the backbone of AC/DC, and while the Hanson brothers don't actually have a backbone, they are definitely brothers. Although there are rumors about Isaac. For a Lower Greenville rock bar with a familial foundation, hit The Matador
In the now mostly unrecognizable Eight Lounge space, the Matador's a non-divey den of very loud music run by an aspiring chef and his sister, a funeral director squeezed out of the business by bigger corporate operations -- which might or might not have happened on Six Feet Under, as only people who survived the Lili Taylor plague know for sure. Marking the place on the outside's a bullfighter mural complete with local nods (a tornado for Doublewide, a heart for Frankie 45); inside they've kept the tall padded black leather booths for now, but they painstakingly stripped the Styrofoam off the stainless steel-topped horseshoe bar to reveal glass bricks, then retrofitted the lounge seating with vintage leather couches, mid-century mod chairs, hanging wrought-iron-and-beveled-glass lanterns, and vintage velvet paintings of matadors and topless chicks (take the bull by the horny). With help from friend-partners, they're aiming to be a hang for local musos (album parties/DJ sets for DFW bands, etc.), with entertainment anchored by DJ Bad Holly wo-manning the mixer with classic rock, punk, and metal, plus every-other-Fri theme nights centered around '80s jams, soul, and "sleazy music": Crée, T-Rex, and various other bands who need nothing but a good time, and whatever that stuff is that's stronger than penicillin.
Booze is more effective than fancy, with solid calls and premiums (Cazadores to Red Stag), beers from Bohemia to Lone Star, and, for wine, Cafe Madrid staple Sangre de Toro; they actually found two cases of Hpnotiq cleaning out the place, but aren't serving it, as guys who quaff that stuff tend to finish nights with a whole lot of rosy, and her five sisters.