Music venues have a hard time keeping everyone happy. They juggle their own financial interests with the demands of both the artist and the customer, and when one of those elements begins to dictate the others — high ticket prices that drive away concert-goers or a disappointing turnout, for example — the system quickly unravels. But Philadelphia’s World Café Live, which opened on Walnut Street near the University of Pennsylvania campus in October 2004, found a way to keep these relationships reciprocal by positing the following scenario: if the experience of seeing a performance is every bit as good as the performance itself, does the patron credit the venue or the artist? The answer: both. Everyone goes home happy.

Last fall, a friend and I saw the indie rock band Bloc Party perform at a popular venue in Philadelphia. The show was amazing. Bloc Party gels in its rhythm section, bass and drums thumping as one infectious clap, sometimes to the sacrifice of vocals and other instruments. The sound that night was crushing and militant, due in no small part to the fact that we had been kept by the crowd to one side of the stage, near a large stack of speakers. I left the building exhausted and with my head hollowed out, the kind of feeling you might get if you were in an airplane that had descended too fast.

In late June, my wife and I took in Edwin McCain at World Café Live. McCain is a singer-songwriter best known for the romantic hits “I’ll Be” and “I Could Not Ask for More.” (These songs are anthems of sorts; a couple we met at the show was married to “I’ll Be.”) McCain and his band hit it off with the audience, with McCain ad-libbing in a self-deprecating manner and playing songs with such dedication it made the idea of a “hit” irrelevant — they all felt important. The sound, something owner Hal Real told me was meant to replicate the feeling of wearing headphones, was full and sharp but not overpowering. Our view — we actually had seats — was perfect.

McCain’s performance was only one portion of the evening. We had dinner and drinks at the venue beforehand and, during McCain’s set, made our way upstairs to hear a striking young singer named Erin Bode breathe new life into a cover of Paul Simon’s “Graceland.” World Café Live’s split venues — one upstairs that features local and regional talent; one downstairs that hosts mostly national acts — lends itself to easy stage-hopping. The engineering — part of the $15 million Real and his team of investors spent constructing the facility — ensures there’s no sound-bleed between the rooms, as well as to or from WXPN 88.5 FM, the nonprofit radio station that is also housed in the building.

The differences between the Bloc Party show and the Edwin McCain show are numerous and, admittedly, incomparable. Stylistically, they’re different performances that draw different types of audiences. But the experience you might have at one show versus another is influenced by a handful of controllable factors in addition to what you see on stage. This is how Real, a 53-year-old former attorney and lifetime music fan, realized World Café Live’s potential.

Real looked at the variables that can make or break a good concert experience — parking, food, cleanliness, sound quality — and adjusted the venue’s specs accordingly. Need a place to park? Patrons have access to six free lots. Want a bite to eat before the show? They’ve got lunch and dinner menus. Sticky floors and destroyed bathrooms? Not here.

World Café Live has also worked closely with WXPN during special concert series and other events. While the relationship has benefited both sides, each strives to maintain its own identity. “It’s an opportunity for us,” Real explains. “WXPN is, in my opinion, the best contemporary radio station in the country. We’re neighbors and we share a common music philosophy, and it can be challenging for people, understandably, to grasp that we’re separate organizations.”

Nevertheless, audiences have responded. “The reception by the public in this region — treating us like we’re this cultural icon — it’s way beyond what we ever could’ve dreamed of,” Real says. “We wanted to create a place that had a comfort level for all kinds of audiences. We chose to make it non-smoking and people thought that was nuts. But [smoking] takes away from the experience.”

World Café Live’s knack for spotlighting future stars has also upped its credibility. Among the artists who played the venue before they got big: James Blunt, Jamie Cullum, Matisyahu and K.T. Tunstall. Tunstall is currently receiving airplay on XPN for “Suddenly I See,” an upbeat pop-rock song that also plays over the opening credits in the film The Devil Wears Prada.

“The realization of the dream for me,” Real begins, “is when I’m standing in a corner, and there are 300 or 500 people in a sold-out house hearing an artist who very few people have heard until they’ve been here. That’s happened so many times. It’s unbelievable.”

As the venue’s reputation grows, so do plans for expansion in other cities. A similar set-up in Louisville, Ky. is being considered, mostly because Louisville’s Public Radio Partnership has given the city a state-of-the-art public radio station that would make a place like World Café Live the perfect neighbor. But intimacy among the masses is something Real wants to keep specific to each venue. He’s careful not to use the word “duplicate” when talking about a possible franchise.

“I’m not interested in [creating a] McDonald’s or Hard Rock Café,” Real says. “You’ll never see that. Community plays a huge role in our success. No offense to anybody, but we don’t want to be ‘just another nightclub.’ We’ve aligned ourselves: through our education programs and children’s programming, with cultural institutions, the public radio and TV community, the arts community; all kinds of civic affairs that happen here. We’re not interested in coming in and putting our flag in the ground.”

After watching part of Erin Bode’s performance, we head downstairs to see the rest of McCain’s set. Real and Valerie Abbott, World Café Live’s sales and marketing director, have kept us company for most of the evening, well past the length of our scheduled interview. Real has been awake since 5 a.m., and the late hours are getting the better of him. He says his goodbyes before walking over to a corner of the venue, where he falls into the audience.

I look over. Hal Real stands there, arms folded, smiling.