Apologies to The Tubes for the title of this post.

It could be our age, but recently we’ve had several experiences at restaurants where we could hardly hear ourselves think, let alone carry on a conversation with each other, or, (in at least one instance), with our dining companions.

…and no, it’s not caused by any screaming babies, either.

I’m talking about incredibly bad – and I do mean incredibly bad – acoustics inside the restaurant. What boggles the mind is how a designer can obsess over the tiniest decorative detail and completely ignore the acoustics.

The real tragedy? It’s completely avoidable and can be easily overcome, even after-the-fact, with readily available, (and relatively inexpensive), acoustic panels of various shapes, colors and sizes. Get with it people – time to install some aural relief inside your humble establishments!

We found ourselves in downtown Scottsdale, (yes, again), last week. We decided to roll the dice and give Citizen Public House another try. OK, OK, so I’m stubborn – I keep thinking these places will improve over time, but alas, in this case, no…

At any rate, my wife and I decided to sit next to one another – kinda like date night – and despite the fact our faces were no more than eighteen inches apart, we still had to yell at each other, (as well as our sh*tty server), all night long. Listen, I don’t know if you expect to leave the dinner table hoarse, but I certainly don’t!

Last night, we joined friends at The Breadfruit & Rum Bar in downtown Phoenix. Sure, when we arrived the tiny room was nearly empty, but it didn’t stay that way for long, and within 45 minutes of our arrival, we were resorting to leaning in toward the middle of the table, or cupping a hand behind an ear. Christ, what a stupid sight that must’ve been, but it was the only way we were going to hear what our table mates were saying. …of course, the rummed-up millennials sitting at the adjacent table didn’t help matters either, but happily they got tired of our glares – yes, we do glare at offending, er offensive, parties – and they eventually departed. I swear to you, the decibel level dropped by half when these eight clueless twenty-somethings headed for the door!

Time to compare and contrast – again, we were joining friends – at Soi 4 in quasi-north Scottsdale. It was 7:00 PM on a Saturday night a couple of weeks ago – the place was bangin’, then it thinned out toward 10:30 PM(ish) or so. Surprise, surprise, surprise! We could hear ourselves think, er, uh, I mean talk, all evening long. …and yes, we were talking, not shouting. Who knew?! We ended up closing the place, and yet in spite of the fluctuating number of people seated in our immediate vicinity, as well as those occupying tables further afield in the restaurant, the noise level didn’t fluctuate nearly as much as my blood pressure did over that same 3 1/2 hour period! Incredible.

Moral of the story? When you hire an extremely-talented architect like Wendell Burnette it’s amazing what you can achieve, both aesthetically and acoustically, even on a budget!

We’ve decided those silly little food review websites everyone mindlessly refers to all need to add another icon – a tiny loudspeaker symbol. Stick with the dollar signs indicating cost, but add loudspeakers to reflect noise level.

Here’s my scale:

1 loudspeaker = quiet, kinda like a morgue.
2 loudspeakers = background hum, nice energy, a.k.a. “Goldilocks” mode.
3 loudspeakers = I’ll tolerate it maybe for an hour or so, and I damn well better see God when I take my first bite…
4 loudspeakers = nope, forget it – you’re better off firing up a leaf blower and duct-taping it to the side of your head!

What do you think? …been to any joints that need to be wallpapered with acoustic panels lately? Tell me about ’em!