Above Board is many things. It’s a social experiment. It’s a performance. It’s a more permanent and slightly more polished version of that backyard snow bar. It’s sixteen seats, good drinks, and bad banter, seven nights a week. Looking at a space that might be described as minimal or austere, you'd be surprised to learn about some of the inspirations behind Above Board. Lambert cites Tiki bars, Irish pubs, and the kinds of tiny, chaotic micro bars you find up dark, narrow staircases in Tokyo. Places of gathering, where the heartbeat of the room is in conversation and shared experience. Places where you end up shoulder-to-shoulder with friends and strangers alike, and the bar staff set the tone, serving more as hosts at a party than drink peddlers. In other words, don’t let the stripped-back aesthetic fool you. It’s not about fashion; it’s about intent. If a bar is inherently a social space, why not remove all of the distractions? The ostentatious back bar, the scripted rituals of mixology, the phonebook-sized drinks lists, the design flourishes and sensory clutter, the barriers between bartenders and patrons, just get rid of it all. Come in, grab a seat, get a drink, have a chat, and see how the night unfolds.