Why not just mosey over to Hillsiders? Tuesdays are quiet and it doesn't have to be a big deal. Just show up and see a couple of bands. You'll be home by 11:00 and $5 ain't much. Besides, seeing other humans is probably good for your mental health. This was the pep talk I gave myself at 6pm. It worked.

Dented Zeus opened the night. The local quartet has only been playing out for a month, but its members should be familiar to anyone in the local scene. Vocalist/guitarist Mike Tuley, guitarist Tyler Ritter, bassist Joe Wetteroth, and drummer Alex Moss all made waves in acts like Bloodbirds, Ad Astra Per Aspera, Short Bus Kids, Faultfinder, Lazy, and Nature Boys. There were echoes of those previous projects in Dented Zeus – especially when its songs created tension leading to boisterous explosions – but none embraced the textured indie rock quite the same way as this current project does, nor did they match its pleasingly languid post-rock. Despite the act's short five-song set, it offered numerous twists and turns that tempted listeners to explore the periphery of its music. It invited the audience to follow the winding guitar leads of Tuley, or to lose itself in the bobbing seas of Wetterroth's bass. Dented Zeus is ideal for those who enjoy sonic side quests. You can hear some early (live) demos from the foursome on Bandcamp, but knowing the recording skills of both Tuley and Wetteroth, I suspect we'll have something more formal soon.

There was no rush between performers. Locals Blue Horses of Madness had canceled earlier in the day, adding slack to the schedule. Just a relaxing night out. A chance to talk to friends without shouting over a band. Good for your mental health.

Fan Club is from Seattle. They used to be called Lysol but ultimately that trademarked name turned out to be a bad idea. The act is touring as a four-piece with Noah Fowler (vocals), Chad Bucklew (guitar), Christine Lundberg (bass), and Anthony Gaviria (drums). I think there is another guitarist, but either he passed out in the van, is in jail, or just not in the band anymore. Before the set, a large Fan Club banner was hung on the wall using so much masking tape. Hillsiders is now a rock club. With little warning, the quartet launched into its set. Short songs ran together, one after another, bridged by feedback. Fowler paced the small stage in constant motion. He often held the microphone over his head, further exaggerating his movements. Bucklew jumped and spun and fell to his knees not wanting to be outdone. Gaviria swung his sticks over his head before pounding his kit. Only Lundberg was laid back, head down, hood up, focused on her instrument. Fun fact: she appeared in a later incarnation of KC's Beta Boys after that act picked up and moved to Washington. Like that group, Fan Club is punk – some '77 melodicism, some pogo buoyancy, some garage snarl, some hardcore intensity, but punk. The band inspired several audience members to move side to side across the narrow gangway between stage and bar. Hillsiders is now a DIY? Just as things began heating up, Fowler thanked the audience, ending the set. It hadn't even been fifteen minutes.

While undoubtedly the set was too short, I did see a couple of bands, $5 wasn't much, I was home by 10:30, and it was definitely good for my mental health. Still kind of a big deal though.