Shows at Hillsiders come at you pretty quick. The dive/hipster/neighborhood bar (depending on your perspective) doesn't have a website listing events, there's no show calendar on its Instagram page, and its Facebook hasn't been updated in years. It books mostly local acts, relying on them to spread the word. I usually hear about shows when Kenneth from Wayne Paine or Rory from The Whiffs reaches out to me, often in a mild panic, about some show he's booked for touring bands coming up later that week. I always go. Although I'm a planner, I've learned to just trust the haphazard nature of the venue.

It was 9:10 when Visual Learner began. The foursome lines up as guitarists Zac Mayeux and Avery Taylor, bassist Morgan Purcell, and drummer Tim Chandler. Mayeux handles most of the vocals getting backing help from Taylor and Purcell, though each also gets a turn on lead vocals as well. The group is from Minneapolis. Sometimes a band's hometown doesn't matter, but it always matters when it's Minneapolis. Every Minneapolis act – even one like Visual Learner, whose players are transplants from other regions – has an energy that allows it to balance the melodic with the chaotic. Visual Learner's set exemplified this with guitarists that battled over thrumming bass chords and atop drums that pushed the quartet faster than was probably safe. Mayeux broke a string in the first song and no one on stage (especially not Purcell) could hear their vocals, but neither slowed down the act which pushed on without complaint because this is punk rock. I decided I loved Visual Learner. You can pick up its two cassette demos (both 2024 releases) on Bandcamp.

Between bands, I sat outside on an Adirondack chair placed at a calculated distance so that I might bathe in the warmth of the firepit without getting choked by the woody smoke. I imagined that there wouldn't be many more of these nights left and was determined to make the most of this one. The venue used to do occasional shows on their patio, but now the corner stage sits empty. I heard that the venue's sound permit doesn't cover outside shows. That's a shame. I was deep in thought about my favorite outdoor shows when I heard guitars, calling me back to the present and back indoors.

Dusk is on tour from Eau Claire. I'm not aware of any particular musical identity assigned to that region, though I suspect the quintet is also a product of its city. We all are. Broadly, Dusk plays eclectic country rock, but chooses to mute the peace and love of Laurel Canyon to allow raucous undertones to bubble up. The band describes this sound as "power twang." If there is a more apt genre for the audience at Hillsiders, I wouldn’t know it.

Dusk consists of Tyler Ditter (guitar), Ryley Crowe (pedal steel), Julia Blair (keys), Ridley Tankersley (bass), and Amos Pitsch (drums). During several straight country tunes, Tyler came in hot with short licks, Crowe provided the expected plaintive cries, Blair carried the melody, Tankersley played short lines with pronounced turn arounds, and Pitsch beat out train rhythms. When things got adventurous, anything seemed to be fair game as instruments took unpredictable roles combining for new sounds that held me both rapt and mystified. Vocals were spread throughout the quintet with each player contributing to sweet harmonies when they weren't at the helm. Somehow Dusk had cracked the code, sounding good on the small stage packed with gear and powered by the tiny PA. While the band sold the last copy of its current album that night, surely a repress is in order. If not, the group played a number of new songs suggesting a new album can't be too far away.

Between acts I again retreated to the fire pit. I listened as touring band members discussed big plans, to regulars who guffawed over a recent social media post attacking the venue, and to the riotously depraved discussing drugged-out adventures: "It's a good combo – cocaine and nitrous." Then it was time for the headliner.

It was about 11:00 when The Whiffs hit the stage. Can I say anything new about this Kansas City power-pop juggernaut? No, I can't. Before the music started, I stepped up to photograph the set list – it's a thing I do. Drummer Jake Cardwell warned me it was the same list from the show that I shot only two weeks earlier. It was, but same set or not, I don't miss many Whiffs shows. The band's set currently centers around its most recent album, touches on a few favorites from the second, and slips in a couple of exciting new tunes from an album that's currently being recorded in someone's basement. Twelve-string guitarist Rory Cameron and bassist Zach Campbell handle the vocals, each supporting the other with oohs and aahs, each ribbing the other between songs. There's a sort of sibling rivalry between the two. Lead guitarist Kyle Gowdy was unexpectedly loose; he moved about the stage a bit, his solos were fluid, and his backing vocals strong. He can elevate everything. Midway through the set Cardwell was exhausted, and begged his cohorts to skip a track on the way to the finish line, but he was outvoted. He did get a respite when Campbell was forced to borrow a bass to complete the finale. Once the swap was made, Cameron led the band into an impossibly fast version of "Verlaine." Cardwell barely survived. Afterwards I asked Cameron about the turbo boost. He smiled, cocked his head and told me the set felt slow to him.

As is always the case, the show was a winner. If I had bothered to listen to the three bands before the gig, I wouldn’t have imagined them combining so well, but Rory and Zach and Kenneth and whoever else books the bar have a keen sense for performers that have the Hillsiders spark, and so I'm always ready to change plans to experience the chaotic warmth that unfolds.