Do I know you from somewhere? Well, kinda. A week ago, I saw Eradicats open for The Creepy Jingles at Replay Lounge. This week, it was (bits of) The Creepy Jingles open for Eradicats. Who knows what permutation I'll get next week. Anyway, we'll make this one quick and limit your sense of déjà vu.

Jocelyn Nixon dutifully took the stage at 8 pm as advertised, despite a sparse crowd. I expected a solo set, maybe material from her English Major Arcana days, but nope. Instead, Nixon was joined by Creepy Jingles bassist Andrew Woody, and the two of them worked through six of their band's tunes. The simple arrangements of just acoustic guitar and bass felt skeletal to anyone familiar with the usual, full-band arrangements. Things got more interesting when the duo shifted to debut five or six cuts from an in-progress Nixon solo album. Most were personal and raw, and at least one was a certifiable bop. The Eradicats guitarist Chris Smead joined for the final number, adding the leads and nicely shifting the tone once again. Although a disjointed sampler set, getting the early preview of what's coming next was a treat.

The Eradicats are new – like, second show ever new. Frontman Josh Thomas doesn't like it when you call his band lo-fi, but facts are facts. The foursome is loose, and its songs are ramshackle affairs. It's all very slacker and charming and fun. His partner Kristi Who plays bass, offers some vocals, co-writes much of the act's material, and designs its adorable merch. This is her first band. Chris Smead adds guitar leads. Sometimes he goes unexpectedly hard. Justin Brooks drums and mouths the words to the tunes he likes the most. The act played the same fourteen songs as it did during its debut the previous week, this time sticking a few more of the landings, but reveling in the same whimsy. Thomas's banter was friendly and unaffected, suited to this low-stakes gig in front of the family-filled audience. Just past the halfway point, Thomas noted that the quartet had "a few more, but they're all short and weird." And that's true, except for maybe "Frank," from the band's debut EP Best in Show. It was a fully formed three-minute affair with verses, a solid chorus, and a tasty guitar solo. The group saved that one for the end, well unless you count "Our Last Song" – the eighteen-second closer that mostly served as an exclamation point that distilled the short set to its even shorter essence.

Big Fat Cow was tasked with closing the night. Before its set, the families in the audience had departed, and the remaining friends and fans had retreated to the back of the room. Sometimes Rino can be weird like that – not quite a bar, not quite a club, more of an event space. Big Fat Cow is a neo-Country project featuring Noah Cassity (vocals/guitar), Alex May (bass), Matt Chipman (drums), and lead guitarist Kole Waters. The first three play traditional roles bringing the band's solid songs to life. If the line-up stopped there, its Americana would be good for a patio gig at a brew-pub but not much more. Thankfully Big Fat Cow had more to offer, and a lot of that comes from the way Waters moved the group in odd directions that were often unexpected, but always rewarding. Through a combination of manual dexterity and effects pedals, Waters was able to mimic a pedal steel for lonesome ballads, the trumpet's brassy vibrato for engaging rock 'n' roll numbers, and to provide spaced-out tones when the band drifted toward psychedelia. Cassity, Waters, and May often combined for three-part harmonies before scattering to deliver separate and distinct vocal lines. It was May's vocals that took center stage for the aptly named finale, "Barn Burner." Bolstered by Chipman's train beat and Waters' Roy Clark-styled hot licks, the song made for a strong, if aberrant, closer for a night that was both familiar and askew.