Hinkley brought its charm and experimental-turned-alt-country set -- including tracks from 2006's "Estate Sale" -- to the WXXI Onstage program last Thursday night. Instrumentals with titles like "The Line for the Inflatable Rumpus Room" might seem peculiar, if you didn't somehow get the feeling that the band was actually waiting in that line. By the song's end, it appeared bassist Keith Perkins had made it inside; eyes to the sky, he was jumping up and down. Banjo-picking, hat-wearing Gregory Paul brought out his newest musical instrument venture, the saw, on request, but sadly didn't use it on any of the songs. Lead singer and guitarist Will Veeder's piano-driven "Elephant Round-Up" was fun and kind of whimsical, like the xylophone that drummer Charles Leport used to accompany other songs. It was sometimes amusing to gauge the energy onstage; guitarist Jona Toll moved around just as much as Perkins, and the beautiful Marlene Matthews, when not playing her violin, nodded to the beat. Dennis Mariano, though stoic, showed his versatility on multiple instruments, including guitar and keyboards.

This band seems to follow the old maxim "always leaving the audience wanting more." The songs' endings were often abrupt, which both frustrated and pleased me. This is the best I've seen Hinkley. You can catch the performance for yourself when the show airs on WXXI this fall.

Sunday was the last night of House of Hamez's first weekend-long Mezapallooza festival. Harlow Crandall was the closing act, providing an entirely improvised noise set with friend Alex Northrup on keys. With his back to the audience, Crandall coaxed heavy and atmospheric notes from his black Strat, making sounds that were at once contemplative and confronting, and always rhythmic. Sometimes the duo would swirl close to chaos, just approaching the tipping point, before easing back out of it. Every once in awhile, Northrup (also with his back to the audience) would play a snippet of melody on the house piano; his head shaking and inspired piano plinking added some brightness and movement to Crandall's darker, almost looming onstage presence. It was as if the audience was spying on a private jam session, which, in a way, we were. The two had predicted that by the time they finished, they'd have cleared the place; as it turns out, they were almost right. When they finally turned to face the audience, the applause came from myself, a friend, and the owner of the coffeeshop. People are lame for not coming out for stuff like this on Sundays.

In the meantime, an AV-curated show was going on over at the Bug Jar, which the lot of us headed to after Harlow's set. We missed The Grievants and Ian Downey is Famous, but were in plenty of time for Old Time Relijun, which blew the crowd away with its energy. From the upright bass (which seemed to have a life of its own) to the sexy saxophone, to the deep beats coming from the more-than-capable pigtailed drummer, the band kept the crowd's attention while keeping us dancing. The kids in front had to make trips to the bar for water to replenish the liquid lost from all their manic jumping around. When the bass player's amp stopped working, the transition time needed for sound man Nic Marinaccio to remedy the problem was seamless; all the while, the band kept playing, which drove the crowd into a frenzy. The short-shorts-wearing energetic lead singer was drenched in sweat, just like the crowd; it's great to see a band that works as hard as this one did, and even better to see an audience that appreciates it.