Farewell is a scene. It has a sound, and it has regulars. But the venue is located on Stadium Drive in the abandoned Leeds neighborhood, so anything can happen there. For example, the local hardcore kids could hand over their club to an indie rock darling touring from Australia. That's possible. Or it's also possible that a competing hardcore show happens two doors down, and all of Farewell's regulars just move down the sidewalk 40 feet. That could happen too.

The night began a little late with Konrad Hell & the Highwater at 8:20. Konrad Hell is the alter-ego of Konrad Fetterolf, known mostly as the frontman of hardcore agent provocateurs Total Sham. The Highwater lineup is anchored by guitarist Sky Cowdry with additional support (for this show anyway) coming from bassist Conor Kennedy and drummer Chaney Butler. Hell handled vocals, moving around the area in front of the stage crooning in a tattered '60s letterman sweater, chinos and dark Raybans. He's a fine frontman and just as fun to watch in this different context. Cowdry offered rhythm guitar work that never stole the show, backing vocals that blended well, and he triggered the various keyboard tracks (sometimes a clean piano, sometimes a warm Rhodes) when songs called for them. The recently recruited Butler and Kennedy were not asked to shine, but instead held things steady as required. The assemblage touches on a lot of eras, delivering on each of them. Largely it's indie rock of the late 2000s era where there was a little glitz, a little glamor, a little danger, and a lot of sex. I was reminded of The Virgins more than once. There's some bounce to the band's songs, but no sign of R&B. They're light, but never breezy. Something about Hell is reminiscent of the "angry young man" era of the late '70s that saw Graham Parker and Joe Jackson climb the charts. Anyway, I'll stop dancing about architecture here, but if you want to hear what the act sounds like for yourself, you'll need to catch them live. While there are some older videos and demos out on the Internet, they don't do this version of the band justice. Thankfully the project has recently recorded two songs with local producer Zack Hames that they expect to release (digitally) soon. I'm very excited to hear what that sounds like.

Farewell is located just two doors down the street from its sister venue, the all-ages space formerly known as the Nightjar Gallery, and now known as Howdy. The space is sparse. No bar. No chairs. No tables. No stage. Barely any lights. Just a concrete floor perfect for dancing and falling while watching bands do mostly the same. Sometimes there are shows at both Howdy and Farewell on the same night. When that happens, most patrons try to move between the venues to catch bits of both shows, creating an odd ebb and flow at both venues. Tonight was one of those nights. Actually, it was the most "one of those nights" ever.

Melbourne's Vintage Crop were sandwiched second at Farewell. The indie rock trio incorporates angular post punk guitars with barely-sung and often-shouted vocals. It fits both the current indie rock zeitgeist led by Wet Leg as well as recalling a sound that exploded decades ago, making it a sort of Art Brut with longer vowels. Like both of those acts, Vintage Crop's lyrics are satirical and polemic. And they're generally delivered by guitarist Jack Cheery, though guitarist Tyson Harper and bassist Luke O'Brien both got turns at lead vocals as well. Drummer Tyler O'Brien must have a horrible voice. Poor lad. None of them offered anything in the way of banter. It was all business as the quartet pushed through ten songs in 25 minutes. No time for band or song introductions, no time for thank yous or other niceties, just a hectic performance that resulted in flying guitar picks, jabbing guitar leads, crashing drums, occasional synth accent noises, and loose arrangements that teased implosion.

The band drew a dozen indie rock regulars that generally attend such shows (though not often at Farewell). Most of the 30 or 40 patrons in the crowd watched curiously, receiving their first introduction to the antipodal act. Still others moved in and out as they pinged between the gigs, ordering a drink from Farewell, catching a song or two, and then disappearing again bound for Howdy. When Vintage Crop finished, the bar emptied almost entirely, with most heading to Howdy where the four-band, mostly-hardcore bill was raging. In fact, so many patrons left for that gig that Farewell paused its own show. During the break I sat in one of the club's sagging pews reading a book, waiting for everyone to return. I mean how long could a hardcore band play? Somehow it was an hour.

At 10:30 the three members of Lawrence, Kansas' Jackoffs returned to the Farewell stage. Frontman and guitarist Jack Goodrich took off his leather jacket. Fall is in the air, and leather jacket season is nearly upon us. But only nearly. Bassist Jack LaGue wore a crop top reminding us that summer has yet to release its hold on the Midwest. The band started its short set with a flurry of hardcore punk. LaGue moved a lot. Goodrich held his guitar out to let it ring as he shouted into the microphone. Even drummer Jacob Smith got into the spirit, frequently raising his sticks high above his head to maximum a run up before pounding his kit. A handful of dancers moved back and forth across the room or hopped like kickboxing kangaroos, while a dozen more stood in a semicircle watching the explosions happen. It wasn't much of a crowd – perhaps another act was still playing next door. After the initial blast from the band, things calmed down a bit. Goodrich suggested to his comrades that they play "Starman" by David Bowie. And so, after some consultation on the chord progressions, the band offered a midtempo telling of the song with more cheeky energy than precision. The song served a preview of the band's Halloween set where it promises to cover the entirety of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. After that one there was only one more before the band called it quits, their set lasting only 23 minutes.

As I exited the club, I looked 40 feet down the sidewalk where a crowd still loitered outside of Howdy. That show had ended too, which got me thinking. Did I see one three-band show that was in competition with another four-band show, or did I see only half of a seven-band gig spread across two venues? I mean it's possible – anything can happen on Stadium Drive.