It's another speed run through another late-night show at The Replay Lounge.

Wichita's Seven and Switchblade is the project of Nicky Alfred and Nadia Barajas. Rumor is the project is shoegaze. The reality was somewhat more complicated. Both musicians played bass live. Pedals separated the duo tonally, but both instruments still occupied the same frequencies. Tumbling and crashing drum tracks made an already muddy mix murkier. Alfred's vocals were flat and monotone. Until he screamed. Was it shoegaze? Yes, there was a sort of '90s alt rock and shoegaze base, but the formula was heavily deconstructed. The set-ending cover of "Nothing Compares 2 U" ripped the song apart. The boisterous Replay audience seemed to get it.

Pimp Magic Guts is a local quintet not well-suited for snap judgments or quick observation. I'll try anyway. Its songs were often twitchy post-punk, occasionally motorik, and sometimes stretched to space rock proportions. The bass sat at the forefront of compositions, inviting the audience to dance. When sharp, the tunes were unstoppable; when bogged down in noise, they lost me. The outfit delivered a mix of both during its thirty-minute set. Thankfully, vocalist Ellen L'Esperance was entertaining throughout. She twerked, hung from her microphone stand, and sarcastically rolled her accented eyes between playing quick synth hits. Songs came one after another with little pause, leaving my head spinning and unable to process what happened. Or maybe I just couldn't think as it was after midnight, and I can't keep up with the college kids who haunt the Replay.

Lizard Brain Trust is the project of Seth Chandler and the friends he's made along the way. On this night his friends were Aaron Swenson, Cameron Hawk, and JP Redmon. Friends who, not coincidentally, figured prominently on the band's new album, Civilwarland, being celebrated that very night. Roughly, the set was built on indie rock, with some compositions drifting toward heartland rock (Hawk confessed one bore a more-than-passing resemblance to Wilco) and others skewing toward poppy alt rock. Even in the shortest songs (several didn't hit the minute mark) there was never a sense of urgency. Slack reigned supreme. There were plenty of backing vocals resulting in some great harmonies, and some not-so-good ones too. Either way, the group was all smiles, as was the packed room. The Replay is like that. Kids who have never heard of the band plant themselves in front of the stage, dance like there is no tomorrow, and then vanish before the next number even starts. It's like Lawrence in miniature – there's always a fresh crop of students to replenish those moving on.

When the fourteen-song set ended, the spirited audience called for more. It took the musicians a minute or two to decide on a cut everyone (mostly) knew. The eventual offering was a spacey track that required constant eye contact between the members to catch the changes. I love it when an encore is genuine and not a scheduled song simply held back for theatrics. At 1:10am the live music ended and my night with it. The dance party on the patio, however, was still in full swing. As I squeezed past a line of kids waiting to get in, I decided that while we may not agree on bedtimes, I'm glad our paths all cross at The Replay Lounge.