Listen carefully. I might not be able to repeat myself. High-level government operatives have kept me from writing about this show for a month. I've only now broken free to deliver this emergency transmission. I have to keep this short – they could discover I'm missing at any moment.

Crash are local punks. The A in the band's name is an anarchy symbol. The drummer wore an anarchy shirt to drive the point home. The singer paced the stage angstily in his patched pants and floppy combat boots. Ask Crash what it’s rebelling against, and it will surely reply, "Whaddaya got?" It's a fine punk tradition that I wholeheartedly endorse. One new track slowed to a doom crawl before the next surged with Motörhead speed. Big tones came from a temporary bassist. The guitarist had some solos. The drummer was pretty inventive for such a small kit. Just the sort of rebellious tunes the government is trying to suppress.

The Unfinished opened with Misfits' "Halloween," drawing first blood in the annual celebration of spooky season. The quartet is punk. Maybe even street punk. There was a blunt fierceness to them that I didn't notice in past performances. Abigail Unfinished's voice sounded stronger and full of excellent scratch and sneer. The small crowd came forward, and when the band played its cover of Rancid's "Radio" they sang along. Now fired up, the audience abused the club's pit fish during the next cut. I'd say more but this isn't a safe channel. So far, the gang has only released a smattering of digital singles, but I'm told an EP is coming soon. That should draw attention from both KC punks and the powers that be.

Austin's The Oxys is on the government watch list, but curiously not on the Kansas City watch list. The quintet has played here twice in the last year, and both times to rooms that were not packed and sweaty. Luckily, the band packs the stage and sweats enough to keep the room moist. The group likely thinks of itself as rock & roll. The operatives in Washington surely call them punk. The truth lies somewhere in between, with a mid-'70s love of Dead Boys and Johnny Thunders. The vocalist had moves and knew how to get that microphone lean just right. The lead guitarist stepped forward and bent backwards for righteous solos. The rhythm guitarist has that wide-legged, get-low stance and mouthed the words even though she wasn't given a microphone. The bass player had a mic, and his backing vocals and interaction with the rest of his bandmates were sublime. Was that a new drummer? I hope that doesn't mean the feds got the last one. This one was tight without adding much flash – better to lay low, right? The musicians tore through a dozen songs and added a couple more as an encore before packing up. Surely there were G-men on their tail.

Afterwards, I spoke with the band who said they'd be back in town on ████████████, so it looks like Kansas City will get one more chance assuming the resistance holds out that long. Until then, rise up in the cafeteria and stab them with your plastic forks.