Farrah's, perhaps more commonly known as Fritz, is a BYOB beer joint located in a backwoodsy section of Third Ward near Yellowstone, perhaps more commonly known as Freddy Krueger's Anus.

That's a bit of hyperbole there, of course.

Still, Third Ward can be a right intimidating place, as sections of the Yellowstone strip do look like cut copy from The Wire. When we were getting directions to Farrah's over the phone, the guy on the other end literally said, "You can get out and ask if you can't find it — I don't know if you'd want to do that, though."

But it's not that terrifying. It can't be. Otherwise, how do you explain the recent success of the venue's blues night?

Farrah's has been open since the mid-'80s, and it's right in line with what you'd expect the place to look like. The corners of the pieces of floor tile that are still intact at all are worn down to rounded nubs. The walls are cluttered with nonsensical, icehouse-ish decor.

Best are the two signs painted on a support beam at the ceiling near the lone pool table that read "No Gaming" and a curiously punctuated "Happy Birthday?" A tiny, tiny dance floor is tucked into a back corner, and the seating is thrown together in the middle of the room.

Although it seems like as natural a venue for a blues night as you're ever going to find, Farrah's didn't start hosting one until about a year ago. Since then, though, things have gone like gangbusters — so much so that it's starting to get mentioned alongside local blues institutions Mr. Gino's (7306 Cullen Blvd.) and The Big Easy (5731 Kirby).

"I think it's moving at a rapid pace as far as being recognized," says Joe Bell, renowned local musician and leader of the five-piece band Joe Bell and the All Stars. "These other places will be around forever. If it works out like it's worked out so far, it could very well go into that category."

Bell and crew are actually the ­Monday-night house band, so he may be tempted to embellish just a smidge, but his assertion feels spot-on.

When the All Stars play from 8 p.m. to midnight, the room buzzes. For added highlights, Bell even allows some familiar faces in the crowd to step in and perform a song or two.

Vocalist Rockin' D, who seems to have taken up a residency at the area's bars, does his best Sammie Relford impression for a few minutes. Dubbed the "Eighth Wonder of the World" by the night's MC — himself a singer simply referred to as "Champ" — Roger Valentine sings himself into a frenzy, hopping and sliding and James Brown-ing around in the space between the band's quarters and the pool table.

Guitarist Arthur Perkins crushes a couple of songs just for good measure. And Champ offers a rendition of Latimore's "Let's Straighten It Out" so soaked with sexuality, it literally includes him singing directly to a woman's crotch — an ordinary thing, apparently, as nobody bats an eye.

The night's success is indicative of the neighborhood shifting, albeit slowly, away from what most people associate with the words "Third Ward."

"[Farrah's] is in the heart of probably what was a crime-infested area," says Bell. "A lot of people hear 'Third Ward' and think, 'What part of Third Ward is it in?' It's changing, the crime is going down and that's probably due to the fact there's somewhere for people to go out and have a good time. The music is for the better for the area."

"I just love to watch these guys, they're really talented," says Linda Johnson, a nurse and longtime Farrah's regular who used to live within walking distance of the venue. "I've never seen any violence, no fights, no nothing."

Progress always makes a great story, ­particularly one where music serves as the catalyst. But again, it's only $2 to get in. Even if you do get stabbed, it's totally worth it.

LAST CALL

Farrah's Pub

Typically, when we visit a live-music venue, we use this space to elaborate on a particular performer and often plug where you can find them on the Internet. However, the acts mentioned above — wait for it — aren't on the Internet. (Gasp!) That's right. Farrah's likewise has no Web page. Theirs is an existence without Facebook, Twitter or even MySpace. (In all fairness, everyone appears to have vacated MySpace anyway.) Really, it's very refreshing — the only way you're going to get to see these guys perform is by showing up. Just like God intended. But good luck finding the place.