Sometimes you get sick right after a show and you're not able to write anything for a week. And sometimes you go on vacation immediately after that, so you don't write anything for the next two weeks either. And so when you finally get home, you have no choice but to play the vague recollection game.

Round 1: Wrker. Wrker is the project of Kansas City's Zac Laman. Maybe it's jungle – the BPMs, when discernible, were way up there. Or maybe it's drum and bass – a few songs did build to drops. Or maybe it's something else entirely that I'm not hip to. I suspect that's where the smart money is. A DAW paired with a mixer and effects pedals allowed Laman to build his sound live, dropping in synthesized bleeps and beats without regard to underlying tempo. The chaos of entering and exiting sounds kept the dancers at bay, but the curious watched carefully as Laman sat at a table working his magic. Those less technically inclined were mesmerized by either the wearable LED screen covering Laman’s face with colorful exploding hearts, or by the abstract projections that blanketed him and the stage’s back wall. I fell into the latter camp.

Round 2: Redder Moon. Before the show, I asked Redder Moon frontman Jeremiah James to walk me through all the incarnations of the band – we both lost interest after talking through the fifth permutation. While the name is old, the current realization is new. New intention. New line-up. New tunes. The band is now a solo project for James, who pulls together a backing cast of talented friends for live gigs. On this night James was joined by bassist Dan T. and drummer Pat Adams who helped add a rock urgency to the darkwave that has always defined the project. I jotted down a dozen comparisons during the show, but looking at my notes later, they seemed suspect. Should every song in the half-hour set really have been on the Lost Boys Soundtrack? Maybe not, but the vibes fit. Triggered synths stayed in the background, James' effects-adorned guitar seldom stepped out for solos, the bass was melodic and animated, the drums focused on tight snare/hi-hat/kick precision, and James' voice was as solid as it has ever been – especially when he stuck to the commanding lower registers. This new incarnation of Redder Moon has already released one single to streaming services, dropped another on a very limited edition 7", and is playing live several times in the next month. You've got no excuses not to check it out.

Round 3: Essenger. Essenger is most likely Jeff Simpson. He may originally be from Kansas City. But I'm not sure about anything when it comes to this project. That seems to be by design. Simpson stood at the back of the stage behind several keyboard stands loaded with gear. There was a laptop and a synth and a mixer and who knows what else was back there. And there was a microphone. And a guitar. In a long 75-minute set, Essenger played synthwave and hip hop and reggaeton and dubstep and the infinite namable varieties of modern electronic dance music. There were crunchy beats, drops, fusion guitar, and anarchy. His vocals were sometimes cold and robotic, sometimes screamed and emotive, sometimes brash and rhythmic. Essenger was, in short, whatever Simpson wanted it to be. Although jittery at the start of the performance, Simpson grew more comfortable as the night developed. "Call out a song. What do you want to hear?" Someone in the back shouted for "Ghost." He played it. He played the Latin-flavored "Aniquilación." He played the spooky "Divine Virus." He played songs where others had originally guested with him, as well as ones where he was the guest. During the finale he stood at the edge of the stage grasping his microphone, shouting lyrics while tracks played, and a guest guitarist wailed. Wait, was this all actually a fever dream?