I will now continue my disservice to the Kansas City music scene by recording only scant details about a rock show due to my own poor time management skills. Yes, we're all very disappointed in me.

Eggs on Mars kicked off this un-themed Friday the 13th gig. The indie pop (and occasionally twee) band recently recast itself as a quartet featuring two guitars and zero pianos – probably better for rock shows, but certainly not as adorable in your headphones. The quartet came with some old songs, a couple of new ones, and several of my favorites from the group's most recent album, 2023's Warm Breakfast. The best moments were the short compositions that prioritized jangle and bounce, and any tune that showcased the sweet hollow body twang of frontman Brad Smith's guitar. I've now reduced the foursome's thirty-minute set of short, sweet, and crafty songs to 96 hack words. Truly a lackluster effort on my part.

Then it was Milkwave from Wichita. I was mystified by the band the last time I saw them. Rinse and repeat. The three-piece of vox, bass, and drums somehow created dense and dark compositions that hinted at post-punk, but were happy to graze from various rock buffets as well. The drummer was fun to watch. The bass player moved well too. The vocalist not so much – their big black boots were generally glued to one spot on the stage and their voice offered few dynamic shifts. Luckily our ambulatory bassist with the big fat bass tone barked and yelped additional vocals, somehow tying it all together. The trio still befuddles me, but I suspect somewhere there's a genius in it that I've not picked up on yet. I'm probably just not doing the work.

The night ended with Arc Flash. Does this mean the Kansas band is active again? Is this three-piece line-up (vox/guitar, bass, drums) one that will stick around? Never bet on Arc Flash to do what you expect. The threesome delivered twitchy and noisy songs that blended punk and psychedelic rock the same way Butthole Surfers once did. Maybe it was less heavy and more arty, but I wager there were just as many mushrooms involved. The guitar was jagged and slicing. The bass and drums bludgeoning. The vocals cut through the chaos. The audience was driven to a frenzy. It was a small crowd, but one full of dancers and lurchers. Many had made the drive from Lawrence, experiencing the club for the first time, and shifting the room's usual energy. The night ended after a short twenty-five-minute set. I don't recall what songs were played. I'll try to do better next time.