While train stations once embodied the unlimited promise of our great nation, today they're mostly filled with people promising they'll give you a BJ for a McGriddle. For a former home of the iron horse now promising your ear drums some lovin', head over to Union Transfer.
Located in what was until recently Spaghetti Warehouse, and before that a train depot, Union Transfer's an all-ages concert hall, harkening back to its heritage by
slathering its patrons in delicious marinara looking very much like a railroad station, from massive Art Deco pendant lights, to concessions and merch stations resembling Victorian baggage claims, to a coat check and first-floor lounge dressed up like gated ticket counters.
Deafening d&b audiotechnik PA towers and myriad stage lights are rail-mounted and move with the wheel-riding stage as it moves forward for smaller shows; the GA floor lets you Worm to your heart's content, two smaller cordoned-off platforms cater to private groups, and a venue-width main balcony offers three rows of bleachers that're good for "kicking your dogs up", but not your Dr. Dogs, even though that'd be The Way The Lazy Do.
Tickets are cheap (rarely crossing $20), and things are kicking off with a Clap Your Hands Say Yeah show, followed by The Felice Brothers, and then Mogwai, so just pray to god it doesn't rain that night.
Because music actually isn't good if you're not drinking, hit any of the three bars for (admittedly basic) cocktails, Magic Hat drafts, and bottles of Rogue Dead Guy, another demographic you'll find in most train stations these days.