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Southpaw owners Mikey Palms and Matt Ross must've thought twice before asking hipster-clothier John D'Aponte to give the basement a military makeover during wartime. But in the end they realized that a bunker-cum-lounge was simply too surefire an idea. After all, there's no better place to fight for your right to party than at camouflage couches grouped around foot lockers doubling as tables. (Almost everything's been recycled from surplus stores.) As an arch-shaped projector screen simulcasts the concert upstairs, civilians seeking liquid courage or simply shelter from the opening bands line up at a tiny bar dubbed the "Union Volunteer Refreshment Saloon." They may favor pageboy caps over protective helmets and horn-rimmed glasses over night-vision goggles but these boys by the sandbags under the netted canopy somehow look equally hungry for an airlift of Playboy bunnies. — Daniel Maurer