On a night when most people at the library are sitting in obscure corners, bogged down in textbooks or bulldozing their way through last-minute essays, there’s another part of the building where laughter, debating voices and occasionally the sound of Pacman eating a meal can be heard bouncing off the walls.

Wednesday at 7 p.m., a group of roughly 20 University of Oregon students milled about in Knight 101, informally coalescing into groups and then scattering with heated but friendly discussions abound.

With the flick of a wrist, the room was bathed in the reverberations of Outkast’s “Hey Ya!” and two students began a vigorous dance-off as they played “Just Dance 2.” But this gathering wasn’t just for socializing and playing video games. As the night marched on, the folks in Room 101 got down to business.

This is Think.Play, a group of video game enthusiasts that meets every Wednesday to do exactly what the name implies.

Its members first think about games and then they play them — the separating period is crucial.

“If you want to learn about games, understand why they’re relevant, why they’re an art form, Think.Play is the place to do it,” said Jon Paull, one of the group’s founders.

Every other Wednesday, they gather and listen as guest speakers — ranging from speeches by UO faculty members to presentations from Pipeworks, a local game studio — stand before the group and lecture about the technology, culture and aesthetics behind video games.

They talk about how games are structured, how they are translated into different languages for different parts of the world, how the newly released Xbox One console will affect used game sales and how race is represented in the medium. They disagree about things and launch counterattacks.

The last few discussions have surrounded Microsoft’s Kinect — an infrared motion sensing device used in tandem with the Xbox 360 and Xbox One that lets users control the console by simply waving their hands in the air.

The following Wednesday, the group meets again, this time to play the games associated with the subjects of the previous week’s discussion.

For Think.Play’s members, video games are much more than a mindless pursuit — they’re something that should be analyzed and discussed.

“I feel like something like this needs to exist,” Paull said. “It’s a push to legitimize games as an art form and a medium.”

According to Iris Bull, another one of the group’s founders, several campus groups get together and play video games regularly. Unlike them, Think.Play isn’t just about playing the games.

“If this was a group about just getting together to play games, how is that any different than just getting together and playing games?” Bull said. “That’s not interesting. I’m not going to take time out of my Wednesday for two hours to do that. We’re interdisciplinary, academically motivated. That’s the biggest distinction between what we do and what most game-oriented groups across the United States do.”

The idea for the group stemmed from an Introduction to Game Studies class that several of its founders took together in 2011. During the class labs, students would apply their studies in the form of thorough video game playing sessions.

Once the class was over, David Baker, one of the class’s co-teachers, realized that he missed the community and discourse the class provided. So, Baker, Bull, Paull and one other student began meeting at Café Roma to continue the discussions.

Think.Play was born through coffee and conversation.

Since then, the group has blossomed. And now — depending on the week — Think.Play regularly has 30 people interacting at meetings.

“There’s a very limited availability of formal, structured academic settings to discuss this type of stuff,” member Jennifer Appleby said. “It’s really nice to know there’s a group here that gets together and does this.”

But even with increased attendance, awareness and a regular meeting time, Bull says the group isn’t defined by people, but by the substance of their passion.

“We’re so fluid, we’re not tied to space and we’re not tied to people,” Bull said. “The ethos that skirts all of this is that this is legitimate because we say it’s legitimate.”

And even though they’re not tied to place or people, they have forged a hearty community of game devotees, and their weekly meetings serve as a two-hour escape from all the stresses of daily life.

Meetings allow people to play games or consoles they wouldn’t normally have access to in a laid back atmosphere where you won’t be ostracized if you drive your virtual car off a cliff. And when you do drive your car off a cliff, the group sits down and discusses whether it was the psychological language of how controllers are laid out that caused the wreck.

“Being here as a new freshman, it was so overwhelming — you’re just a person in the crowd. Think.Play is just a breath of fresh air,” steering committee member Tessa Freeland said.

The group mainly relies on word of mouth to recruit new members, but its members also hold one major event each term to help create awareness.

“It’s a great way to take a break from school. It’s a great group, and we get to talk and play games. It’s a great escape,” environmental science major Avante Grady said.

Think.Play may still be young, but its members have had to deal with tragedy — Baker died in May of this year. A memorial service two days after he passed away replaced the group’s meeting for that week. Despite the loss, they are steadily growing, and its current members believe the group will survive once they move on.

“The goal is for this to persist,” Paull said. “There’s this push to legitimize games, and it needs groups like this. Anything can be art, and that means games, too.”

Because of Think.Play and its members, there’s a place for people who like playing games but also want to understand them and meet with other like-minded individuals to do so. And it’s not exclusive. It’s open to anyone, from any major, any background and any skill level.

Think.Play is a community of people who love video games but who also want to discuss their role in our society — and according to them this makes them different.

“It’s not like I just want to get together and play ‘Mario Kart’ every week. Think.Play is something deeper than that,” sophomore Chris Berg said. ““Thinking about the future of games and having a group like this on campus is a great way for people to come together and share ideas and figure out the questions behind games.”

Getting your haircut used to be a special ritual, a tradition. You’d walk down to the local barbershop and be greeted by a man who had been cutting hair for decades.

These days, getting a haircut can be a lot like getting fast food. Corporate chains, like Supercuts or Great Clips, dot the urban landscape — and they churn out haircuts efficiently, homogeneously and quickly.

But in isolated pockets, old barbershops still survive despite chains encroaching on their territory.

One of those places is on 13th Avenue — barely a stone’s throw from the Duck Store.

It’s the Kampus Barber Shop, and it’s been serving University of Oregon students and faculty since 1922.

Appointments don’t exist in this hole-in-the-wall shop. You can drop by anytime you like, sit in the worn chairs leaning up against walls crammed with pictures, listen to classic rock music humming in the background and wait for your turn on the stool.

“Places like chains kind of rush — speed time it— to get through their cuts,” said barber Patrick Stutz.. “We’re pretty mellow here, kind of a throwback to the old school.”

And the laid-back and welcoming atmosphere attracts a steady flow of clients, most of whom are students at the UO, but not all.

“I like the ‘no appointments.’ I can just drop-by on my way campus and get a haircut whenever,’” said UO student Jon Naify.

A major part of Kampus’ clientele are students and faculty, which causes a high turnover rate in clients — because students have an expiration date — but, according to Stutz, that’s one of the intangibles the barbershop supplies.

“Being here you get to meet a lot of people, from all over the world, just trying to get their hair cut,” Stutz said. “The university provides a really personable crowd.”

Kampus doesn’t feature the slick interiors and rapid din of a chain hair salon. It has a lived-in and distinctly Eugene flair — and for some, that’s part of the allure.

“It’s just got really nice vibes,” UO student Coleman Garner said. “You don’t get that at a chain.”

And according to Stutz, Kampus’ prices are comparable to other barber shops in Eugene but its location adjacent to campus, with a high volume of foot traffic, makes it an attractive option.

“There’s not many barber shops near campus, but we’re here,” Stutz said.

With time, change is inevitable, but sometimes something like a local barbershop slips through the cracks, transcending the novelty, and manages to thrive in its own little nook. One need not look any further than 13th Avenue to find one, a place where people come and go but the tradition stays the same.

“I don’t know any Supercuts with a bear on the wall,” Stutz said.

Sheets of rain plow into the window as Austin Farrell punches in a phone number, and he glances behind him as the dial tone chirps its acknowledgment.

“Hey, this Austin from Falling Sky Delicatessen; we have an order, a delivery for you,” Farrell said.

Minutes later, a bicyclist appears from the deluge with a bulky pack strapped over his raincoat. Within minutes, the rider, Ben Strain, has secured his package and is off again, the only remnant of his visit a trail of water droplets leading across the concrete floor.

Eighteen minutes after this initial exchange takes place, a mound of pastrami rests between two pieces of rye bread in a to-go box on a table at the EMU’s Fishbowl and eager eyes attack it. The transaction is complete.

This undertaking was made possible because of a new partnership between the Falling Sky Delicatessen and the Cascadian Courier Collective, two local businesses who’ve combined forces to deliver deli food all across Eugene — and in an environmentally friendly way.

Falling Sky provides the food, and the Courier Collective provides the bikes and the riders. No cars enter the equation.

According to Rob Cohen, the operator of Falling Sky Delicatessen, the relationship was first forged when the Courier Collective approached them a few months ago with the idea of bicycle deliveries.

“We’re currently putting a major focus on building relationships with local businesses, such as Falling Sky, to provide a high quality and cost-effective service for their customers, with minimal environmental impact,” said Ben Strain, one of the three owners and operators of the Cascadian Courier Collective.

And the feeling ended up being mutual.

“We wanted to partner with like-minded businesses, environmentally conscious businesses,” Cohen said. “It really does speak loudly to our customers.”

On Nov. 11, that environmentally driven partnership became reality.

So far, according to Cohen, the delivery system has been utilized by an average of four-to-five customers a day, but he expects that number to increase as more people become aware of the ethos behind the system.

“It’s for people concerned about the world and the environment,” Cohen said. “It’s a totally environmentally friendly way to get food.”

And now, on any given day, rain or shine, between the hours of 11 a.m. and 10 p.m., you can witness a bicycle courier racing through Eugene with a cargo of food (but not alcohol, for legal reasons), fresh from the Falling Sky kitchens.

And for those willing to try it out, it’s cost effective too. In the downtown area, including the University of Oregon campus, the Courier Collective only charges a $2 delivery fee, and in the outlying areas, like south Eugene or the Ducks Village area, the fee is only $4 — and if you don’t have cash, they bring card readers with them.

The delivery service is still in its infancy, but both parties seem dedicated to expanding it and reaching as many people as they can.

“These guys (the Courier Collective) have said they’re willing to get up at three in the morning to deliver,” Cohen said. “They’re very dedicated.”

Finding the perfect outlet for buying beer can be a daunting task. Whether you’re just trying to blow off steam and talk about 18th century agrarian business with your roommates, loosening up before a football game or trying to bare your soul to a complete stranger in the middle of the street, settling on the right beer at the right price is paramount; choosing the wrong one can be disastrous, for both your wallet and your enjoyment.

Some people are in the hunt for a classy micro brew that’ll make you look like a graduate student with a trust fund, or others like University of Oregon Alum John Pergiel, want “the cheapest beer money can buy.”

Unfortunately, regardless of preference, it’s easy to make the wrong choice. Fortunately, finding the right beer store just got a tad easier due to the painstaking hands-on research done by the author of this article. As follows is a guide that takes into account everything from distance from campus, price-range, size of selection and quality of selection — all with the mission of outlining the best and worst places for a campus area resident to buy beer.

Albertson’s — Location: 311 Coburg Road

Albertson’s fails on nearly all accounts: it’s far away from campus, other than its domestics it has poor selection, and a nice six-pack of something like Ninkasi Sleigher will generally cost you about $10 bucks. Unless you’re in the area, Albertson’s is best avoided.

Safeway — Location: 145 East 18th Avenue

In terms of selection and price, Safeway is Albertson’s 2.0, but it manages to edge it out because of its location adjacent to campus — which is its only redeeming factor. Safeway is hard to resist because of its location, but you should, because it’s a wallet-destroying trap.

Trader Joe’s —Location: 85 Oakway Center across from Alberston’s

Joe’s gets lucky here and claws his way onto the list despite an inconvenient location and a woefully limited selection that includes no domestics. But it earns its spot with one of the best deals in all of Lane County; at $3.99, a six-pack of Simpler Times lager, with an alcohol by volume rate of 6.2 percent, does your wallet a favor and is classy to boot.

Hilyard Street Market — Location: 1698 Hilyard Street/Tom’s Market — Location: 1490 East 19th Avenue

Here we have an old-fashioned tie. Both Hilly’s and Tom’s dominate their respective corners of campus and despite not having large selections or terribly low prices, you can get a twenty-two of Pyramid at both markets  for under $3, a nice deal for just about anyone in a pinch. They aren’t always your best bet but when you’re desperate on a Friday night, they’ll do the job.

Bier Stein — Location: 1591 Willamette Street

Beer Stein is the first real heavy weight to grace the list, and is the only bottle-shop that made the cut. It loses points for not having any domestics and for being a tad pricey, but it redeems itself in nearly every other regard. It’s close to campus and has the best selection of micros and imports you’ll find at any other store. “We have beers from all over the world,” said Beer Stein employee Tristan Pettigrew. “But we also really like to focus on beers the Pacific Northwest.” And it’s true; you can find beer from every corner of the world rotating through their shelves and all beer bought to go is discounted at the register. It won’t serve your needs if you’re looking for cheap 30-racks, but the Beer Stein earns its spot on the list and deserves a visit from all beer enthusiasts.

Winco — Locations: 4275 Barger Drive in Eugene and 1920 Olympic Street in Springfield

The only things keeping Winco from the top spot is its location and its relatively modest selection — but it still manages to override these shortfalls. Everything at Winco, whether it is 24-rack of Rainier or a twenty-two of Rogue, is consistently cheaper than anything you’ll find in the greater Eugene area. It’s a haven for penny-pinching college students looking for cheap domestics and for cardigan-wearing intellectuals looking for Dale’s Pale Ale alike. Make the pilgrimage.

Market of Choice — 1960 Franklin Blvd and 67th West 29th Ave

In the realm of beer, Market of the Choice reigns supreme. Rack after rack of local, obscure domestics, seasonal imports and everything else you can imagine, graces the shelves. “It just has a huge array of beer,” said University of Oregon student Keven Peacock. “They have tons of styles.” Price-wise it’s not the best, but it’s not the worst either. Six-packs of tasteful micros ranging from New Belgium to Uinta to all run from $7 to $10, but they offset that by frequently having sales. And if you’re looking to go cheap, a six-pack of Old German tall boys for $4.99 should do nicely. With two stores located close to campus and an otherworldly selection, Market of Choice will satisfy all your beer needs.

From the lofty ceiling above, a soft red light trickles down, attempting to encroach upon the long shadows that hang around the room’s floor like a bank of stubborn fog, a darkness only interrupted by intermittent flashes that shoot out from a row of arcade game consoles. Tables and couches are scattered throughout and people mill about, lost in their half-full beers and their hushed conversations.

But then, through the midst of a subdued Sunday evening, comes a voice, amplified by a microphone, jarring people from their stupors.

“Alright everybody, it’s time for Competitive Erotic Fan Fiction.”

The speaker is Bryan Cook, a causally dressed man with a neat beard who looks to be about 30 years old, and the place is Shoryuken League, a bar/arcade located in downtown Eugene. But speaker and location aside, what exactly is Competitive Erotic Fan Fiction you may ask?

Well, throughout the rest of the evening a crowd of about two-dozen people watched and frequently burst out in peels of laughter, as seven comedians from the greater Oregon area participated in a video game-themed standup comedy competition that revolved around the idea of erotic literature.

The idea, according to Cook, is to find local comedians in every city he visits and make them write down “the grossest bullshit” they can think of and then let a crowd decide who succeeded.

The first contestant, Stephanie Purtle, was fond of using phrases like “Glenn Beck cumming” and “ chubbies for Hillary Rodham Clinton” while describing a virtual date with a stripper in the video game Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

A later contestant, Randy Mendez, in a tirade about fucking dragons, said that he was going to leave his “seed on every creature in all of Skyrim” before going into great detail about a liaison with one of the aforementioned dragons.

And throughout the ensuing hour of competition, some of the other choice phrases thrown around were “Ms. Pac-Man’s quivering yellow vagina,” “tonguing nut-sack” and “giant proud Russian dongs.”

Few subjects were deemed sacred by the contestants, and according to Cook, the only topics he now forbids in the cities he visits are television host Guy Fieri and The Lord of the Rings — and that’s simply because they became too popular of targets.

“Anything horrible you can imagine is generally fair game,” Cook said.

The idea for erotic fan fiction competitions was hatched, according to Cook, in 2012 when he saw one of his friends, a standup comedian in Seattle, incorporate a bit into his routine where he read erotic stories he had written about the Pixar movie Cars.

With the seed planted in his mind, Cook then moved to Los Angeles and began hosting erotic fiction events at the Nerdist Theatre, and because of its popularity, began taking it on the road. Now, a year later, Cook travels all over the United States, bringing his completely unserious brand of erotic fan fiction to the masses.

At the end of the night, after the contestants retired to exuberant applause and the crowd began to gradually disperse, Cook leaned back in a chair, beer in hand, and described the reason for his show’s existence. Without hesitation and without an explanation or needing one, he said, “Muppet boners.”

Don’t mistake Thor: The Dark World for anything more than it is, and you’ll be a happy customer. Just like its predecessor — 2011’s Thor — it’s big, loud and air-headed. It’s a perfect complement to its hammer-wielding titular character.

And just like the first film, the second installment in the Thor franchise is neither phenomenal nor terrible. It has major faults, plot holes, an astounding lack of subtly and all the other usual suspects that plague superhero movies, but director Alan Taylor (best known for directing several episodes of Mad Men and Game of Thrones) barrels through these inconsistencies to deliver a perfectly entertaining movie.

It’s anchored by two solid performances from Chris Hemsworth, who plays the Norse-god-from-space Thor, and particularly from Tom Hiddleston, who plays his estranged brother Loki. The onscreen relationship between Thor and Loki provides the film with the majority of its charisma; if this film is an improvement on its predecessor in any way it’s in the realm of humor. Loki’s constant belittling of his lumbering counterpart Thor provides the film with a disarming amount of laughs for a movie that deals with the destruction of the entire universe.

Thor and Loki’s dysfunctional and entertaining relationship aside, the film sinks into cruise control and guides the viewer through the necessary plot developments.

Natalie Portman returns as the love interest and damsel in distress. There’s a group of suitably grim antagonists, the “Dark Elves,” scorned by Thor’s grandfather in the distant path and who now trying to bury the hatchet by destroying the entire universe. And throughout, Thor and friends cavort across the Universe again, highlighting the franchise’s signature fantasy/science fiction cocktail.

A disproportionate amount of the film is spent puttering around Thor’s space kingdom Asgard, and the planet Svartalfheim, the home of the film’s suitably grim antagonists the “Dark Elves.” Both locales are beautifully rendered, but don’t provide much in the thrills department. But then the film finally journeys to Earth (one of its few cameos in the film) and it’s there the action-packed and satisfying climax takes place.

The new Thor isn’t trying to break new ground, it’s just trying to entertain you why it goldmines the familiar.

Thor dispatches a satisfying amount of baddies, the plot chugs along dutifully and the filmmakers do their best to imitate the sweeping imagery of a Peter Jackson fantasy epic without imitating the substance.

But that’s exactly what Thor: The Dark World is supposed to be, and faulting this film for not delivering the goods is like saying you thought 2006’s Snakes On a Plane was going to be more intellectually stimulating. If you liked the first Thor, the filmmakers give you no reason not to like this one too.

The brash title of Lady Gaga’s new album, ARTPOP, says it all, or at least wants to say it all. This album attempts a far-reaching blend of music, art and fashion. It wants to be a cultural statement. The results are mixed — but that doesn’t mean bad.

At the moment, perhaps with the exception of Kanye West, no other individual in contemporary music is more determined to be bold than Lady Gaga, and she continues that trend with this LP.

ARTPOP, the follow-up to 2011’s Born This Way, succeeds in a way that most of her fans will appreciate. It demands to be noticed.

Throughout the album’s 15 songs spread across 59 minutes, Lady Gaga, with the help of a grocery list of famous producers like Rick Rubin, David Guetta, will.i.am, Zedd and others, channels a whirlwind of the 27-year-olds’ whims and fancies.

Elements of R&B, techno, dubstep, rock, even Middle Eastern tinged strings, are on display. The booming hooks are, as always, in attendance ready to make people dance themselves into a euphoric stupor.

But in a departure from her previous work, it seems as though Lady Gaga wants this album to be listened to all at once, from start to finish. She doesn’t want to be defined by simply a few hit singles and tabloid appearances. In its own warped way, ARTPOP is an attempt at a concept album.

She buries her lead single, “Applause,” at the very end of the album, forcing the listener to wade through the rest of the tracks first. It’s a good thing too, because some of the album’s best songs are sprinkled throughout.

Opener “Aura,” and later “Jewels n’ Drugs” and “Do What U Want,” are all standouts, providing all the boisterous fun Lady Gaga has become so adept at imbuing with her music. And for those who love electro-ballads, “Dope” and “Gypsy” should do the trick.

In the end, underneath most of the slick marketing, transcendent overtures and derivative samples, is the same music that made Lady Gaga so endearing in the first place: It’s catchy and easy to digest. She’s a pop star who makes good pop music.

Ultimately, Lady Gaga warrants the comparisons to the likes of Madonna and David Bowie, the people whom she idolizes. She’s enigmatic and entertaining.

But, Lady Gaga wants to make a statement and she misses her intended target. She wants to redefine pop-music, but ARTPOP is not revolutionary, nor evolutionary. It’s not the next step in “art” and “culture.” Lady Gaga is trying to be the Starchild from 2001: A Space Odyssey. She wants to go where others haven’t. But, ultimately, she’s just retracing mostly familiar paths.

If you already like Lady Gaga, you’ll probably like ARTPOP. But if she hasn’t already won you over, ARTPOP won’t necessarily do the trick. It’s packaged as a monumental step forward but it’s not. However, ARTPOP isn’t a step backward either.

With bicycle lanes flanking nearly every street, miles of paved paths meandering through tree-filled parks and a downtown and college campus rubbing elbows, Eugene is a haven for those who power their commutes with pedals. Encountering a bicyclist in Eugene is like seeing a Ducks shirt at Autzen stadium.

But with so many bicycles dotting the landscape, problems are bound to occur — broken chains, flat tires, bent spokes, you name it. Fortunately, when such occasions transpire, it’s an easy fix. Simply take your wheels to a bike shop, pull out your wallet and it’s someone else’s problem.

But some people can’t afford the bicycle shop remedy, or perhaps, they don’t want to. For people on a budget, or people with a hankering to fix or build their own bikes, Eugene has a solution.

Inside a spacious warehouse-like building, located on 455 W. First Ave., bicycle repair stands surround workbenches filled with all manner of bike tools, and a collection of people bustle back and forth with chain grease and pedal cranks in their hands.

Eugene Bicycle Works, run by the nonprofit organization called the Center for Appropriate Transport, is a community bike shop where customers can rent out their own personal workspace and get their bikes back on the road again — or maybe for the first time.

“The mission here is to get more people biking and make space available for people of all incomes,” said David Klein, the shop manager of EBW.

For a rate of $8 an hour, or a yearly membership of $60, customers gain access to all the tools and space they need to repair or build their bikes. For $1.50 per five minutes, customers can receive advice and assistance from trained volunteers and bike mechanics.

According to Klein, all of the parts, save a few items like chains, are donated. The workshop has a large assortment of welding and painting equipment .

And for those looking for even more hands-on experience, anyone can become an EBW volunteer, regardless of prior training or knowledge, and can exchange their volunteer hours for free time with the tools and stands.

That’s what volunteer Sean O’Kelly did.

“I came in back on Oct. 1, and was like ‘maybe I can learn something,’ and now here I am, learning a trade five days a week,” O’Kelly said. “Most people can pick it up in five to six hours.”

As well as renting space out and taking on volunteers, the CAT also has monthly community workshops and apprenticeship programs.

The ethos behind EBW and CAT is “to promote bike culture and educate people, hands on, in the diversity of vehicles,” according to the organization’s director Jan VanderTuin.

In a city where bicycles reign supreme, the EBW might be just the place to go for those looking to dive further into the pedal-centric culture.

“It’s a community that gives back to the bike culture,” VanderTuin said.

Forget about saving the world with a hybrid car. Now you can do it with beer. Specifically, beer in squat containers called “growlers.”

Growlers are large glass bottles that come in a variety of sizes — usually around 64 ounces — and are designed so that they can be refilled an infinite amount of times and consequently cut down on the amount of 12-ounce bottles and cans that litter recycling bins.

Simply buy a growler, take it to any of the several tap houses or growler fill stations popping up all over the Eugene-Springfield area, fill it up with your choice of barley pop, take it home, drink it up and repeat.

“It’s all about an ethos to offer nothing but reusable containers for beer,” said Toby Harris, one of the general managers at the month-old The Tap and Growler. “It’s a way to provide households with an environmentally sound way to enjoy beer.”

And the beer of your choosing will remain fresh up to three weeks and three days after it’s sealed at the fill station, according to Harris.

At a station, carbon dioxide is used to create a vapor lock within the growler that prevents oxygen from entering the container. Then the growler is filled up with beer and sealed within 10 seconds. But once the cap — either a swing-top or a twist-off — is removed, the beer will only remain fresh for four to five days.

But for people familiar with stale, half-finished beers gracing their countertops on Saturday mornings, four to five days to finish an opened beer is a miracle.

And now, after the Oregon Legislature passed a bill this past April, winos can get in on the growler action too. That’s right, you can buy growlers of wine or hard cider.

Furthermore, the growler stations that are seemingly appearing overnight in Eugene mostly double as bars. The Tap and Growler, located on 5th Avenue and Pearl Street, has 40 different beers and over 20 different wines on tap, sangria, Sake and a selection of food, too.

“I think growlers and taprooms are the next step in bars,” Harris said. “It’s a place that incubates education. You can learn about different beers and taste them before you buy them.”

With an atmosphere that resembles an upscale coffee shop rather than a bar, The Tap and Growler is a perfect place to go, enjoy a beer served cold but not too cold so you can discover the taste, find out what you like and then take 62 ounces of your choice to go.

Other taprooms or growler fill stations opening up in the Eugene area include Growler Nation, The Growler Guys, The Steel Pail and The Wild Duck Tap House. Local breweries like Oakshire and Falling Sky also dabble with growlers.

For beer and wine enthusiasts looking for an easier way to enjoy their favorite beverages without all the cans, bottles and pesky recycling deposits, growlers could be the way to go.

Win Butler and company have moved away from The Suburbs.

On Reflektor, the fourth Arcade Fire LP, the band takes every ingredient of the formula they used to capture the 2011 Grammy for Album of the Year and explode them into a groovier and expansive dimension.

The angst and paranoia-ridden lyrics are still there, and the band’s obsession with the grandiose, too, but the Montreal-based rockers are aiming for a sound and scope that surpasses everything they’ve done to this point.

With help from producer James Murphy (of LCD Soundsystem fame) and David Bowie (of David Bowie fame), Arcade Fire has crafted an album that surges and pulses with energy.

The album begins powerfully but then bleeds into a euphoric second half.

On this album, the rhythm section takes center stage for the first time with powerful bass lines and tight percussion, and the layers of distorted guitars and keys are simply passengers on their furious crescendos.

The album kicks off with lead single “Reflektor,” a sleek and funky seven-minute epic that quickly alerts the listener that this is not The Suburbs 2.0.

Arcade Fire experiment with samples and genre shifts like never before, with appearances of disco-laced grooves and glam rock bursts of energy.

The bass line in “We Exist” sounds like it was mined from a long-lost Michael Jackson song. “Joan of Arc” begins with a punk salvo before descending into a disco-like haze.

One of the album’s standouts is arguably “Here Comes the Night Time,” with an infectious keyboard hook and jarring, but still pleasant, tempo shifts.

The chorus in “Awful Sound (Oh, Eurydice)” brings to mind The Beatles or Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young if they had harmonized over synthesizers instead of acoustic guitars.

Nearly every track on Reflektor deserves a listen. Arcade Fire is a band that with nothing to prove, but now they’ve put out an album that is unflinchingly ambitious.

It is sonic departure, or rather a sonic expansion, when compared to their previous albums.

Reflektor plays like the soundtrack of a night that was supposed to be low-key and ordinary but instead veered into a cascading torrent of events that cannot be stopped.

It sounds tighter and bigger than The Suburbs, and it churns at a rate Neon Bible and Funeral could never have aspired to equal.

Clocking in at over an hour, the album may turn off the casual listener — seven of the 11 tracks surpass five minutes — but those who stick around should be adequately rewarded.

Arcade Fire has made an album that continues their upward trajectory, leaving their musical peers holding on for dear life in crest of their wake.