The employee-owned Turnsol Books continues to survive despite long odds. It seems to get by on determination, kindness, and naivete – I'm not sure of the order. Each December, the bookstore hosts a toy drive for local domestic violence support center Hope House. It's a tradition that goes back to Revolution Records, where several of the shop's owners cut their retail teeth. This year's musical bill contained echoes of those past benefits.

The night began with Brenda. Brenda was a disappointment.

The night continued with Deco Auto. Deco Auto is a regular at – hold on, let's go back to Brenda for a second. Brenda is a new country project featuring David Sipp (vocals/guitar), Promise Clutter (guitar and Turnsol owner), and Ethan Burge (drums). On this night, the trio was joined by bassist Matt Clifford (whom the majority of the band had just met on stage). It was the group's first show, and featured just two originals and two covers, including a run at the Buck Owens hit "Act Naturally." Mike Alexander (Hipshot Killer, Starhaven Rounders, Bad Ideas, etc.) was called up to play on the final number. It was an original he'd never heard before. The entire set was understandably tentative and amateurish. But despite Sipp's insistence that I only write that the set was a disappointment, I wasn't disappointed – you must have expectations for them to be dashed, and I had none. Sure, it was shambolic, but you don't need to be a professional to make music for and with your friends. We now return you to Deco Auto already in progress.

… this benefit toy drive. Maybe it's because frontman Steven Garcia has a PA. Maybe it's because he has a big heart. Around him were normal cohorts Tracy Flowers (vocals), Marc Bollinger (bass), and Keith Howell (drums). The quartet debuted a new Christmas song called "Bring Us What We Want (Not What We Deserve)" which fits perfectly alongside The Kinks' "Father Christmas" in my holiday power-pop playlist. The song sounded great, as did old chestnut "The Mercy Kind," and "I Shouldn't Know" where Howell ripped a lovely rollicking drum solo-ette. Other cuts (including two more new ones) were hit and miss, something Garcia blamed on his guitar amp that cut in and out, and on one fewer band practice than was probably required. The act ended with a cover of the rambunctious "United States of Whatever" that had Flowers jumping up and down the small stage in excited rebellion.

Major Matt Mason USA is another regular at this event. Maybe it's because frontman Matt Roth has a big heart. Maybe it's that drummer Brian Hurtgen runs Black Cat Records that shares a space with Turnsol. Either way, the threesome (completed by bassist Dane Bridges) took the stage at 9:00 and played a twenty-five-minute set of indie rock. Some of the songs played were recorded twenty years ago during Roth's earlier sojourn in the New York anti-folk scene. Some were songs that Roth continues to describe as "new" just as he did when they were played two years ago at the same benefit. Roth's guitar tone was as warm and comforting, only rising to a growl during "Victims of the Storms." Throughout the night, Hurtgen's backing "ooh ooh" vocals recalled Kim Deal's contributions to The Pixies. Unlike the previous acts, this set was free of apprehension and drama. The trio sounded strong and sure from the first song to the last one – a genuinely new tune Roth dedicated to his girlfriend. Roth called it "Tea for Two," but his cohorts recalled it having a different name, something to do with the frequency at which steamed milk loses a bass harmonic which happens to be the same tone delivered by Mongolian throat singers. Yes, the banter was a tad surreal.

Denver's Black Market Translation provided the only new blood of the night. The quartet of Chris Eason (guitar), Matt Clifford (again on bass), Alex White (sax), and Dream Robbins (drums) introduced itself as an "improv punk band" before launching into a long forty-minute set. "Punk," in this case, is more a statement of ethos than genre. Instead of short blasts of primal destruction, the band built meandering post-rock from Eason's short and simple phrasings, Robbins' open but supportive drumming, Clifford's melodic lines played high up the neck of his bass, and the free jazz squawks and interjections of White's sax. In the best moments, the excellent improvisers provided dynamism that pulled listeners in, while the duller moments merely sounded like the obligatory jam at the beginning of any band practice. While the foursome never paused between improvisations, works did slow to a quiet hum as both Eason and Clifford bent down to adjust effects pedals before coming out for another round. Sensing that more was possible, Tim Harte of AKAMFDM moved a microphone in front of White and began re-processing those sounds with his grid controller and other toys, introducing new sounds to the one-time-only musical creation.

The night had lost all its steam by this point. I've always drawn a bright line between a band practice and a show. If the audience outnumbers the band, then it’s a show. I had to count, but Black Market Translation had played a show. So would the following solo act. But I had to count there too.

AKAMFDM is the project of Tim Harte. Harte made news when he was the first student admitted to the UMKC Conservatory with a laptop as his instrument. He's known for experimental, collaborative, and avant-garde compositions built from both found and generated sounds. At 10:30 he sat on the floor of Turnsol with his controllers and microphone. Harte explained that he'd recorded around seventy sixty-second-long pieces over the last year, and he planned to revisit some of them as a "sort of Spotify Wrapped" year in review. He started with several compositions featuring his very new baby son, including one that featured his actual birth and first screams. Like most of the pieces, it was a dense sound collage without the semblance of tune. His art is no doubt engaging in the right setting, but I've only seen AKAMFDM wrapping up these benefit shows, and always with similar results. On this night, he was competing with the sound of gear being packed up, conversations taking place in the corners, and beer-can baseball happening on the sidewalk out front.

The night's bill was just one of Turnsol's curious decisions that are based on community and compassion instead of commerce. The venue could have certainly packed in more people with a different line-up, but instead, its owners brought friends together. It's a shame this approach should feel so foreign. So stop by Turnsol Books when you're out doing your holiday shopping this year, and bring an unwrapped toy by Wednesday the 11th for Hope House. Or you can make a direct donation at https://www.hopehouse.net/get-involved/donate.