The Thousands

The Metro is where you go when you’re done with indie DJ “nights”. You know the ones I mean. They have sinister brand names like “Clap” and “Pump”, pointless cover charges, covertly racist DJs, dodgy “drink specials”, and various measures of sexual frustration, glycerin vapor and Franz Ferdinand.

If the Metro ever has any of the above it’s usually because a fixie of hipsters has taken a wrong turn, or the usually tasteful DK has booked one of those rubbish bands that sound too much like The Rapture.

This isn’t to say that the place, for all its pokie machines and plasma screens, isn’t cool. Far from it. Bands like Batrider, Hit The Jackpot and Bitch Prefect are current staples, and the DJs aren’t inclined to subject the likes of Beyonce and Television to thinly veiled apartheid.

Other excellent points:

- The pokies apparently make more than enough to subsidise DK’s live music indulgences.
- You can watch sports, drink gin and discuss Kafka. Who says only bogans are allowed to watch sports?
- FREE instant coffee.
- Stone’s throw from La Boheme (for those who have pretensions of class) and La Sing (for those who don’t).