Dear Rochester, I have faithfully defended your honor for the last time, you lazy bitch. You have eroded my faith, shattered my confidence, and continually come up short. You have let me down time and again, and yet I keep coming back. I will apologize for you no longer. I will still enthusiastically attend shows and recommend stuff to anyone who'll listen, but beyond that, you're on your own.

Look, I don't know everything, but I do know good music. And Jesse Dee is a name you should know, and it's a name you should've seen with me and the tumbleweeds and about 25 others Saturday night at High Fidelity. It was a shameful turnout for an incredible budding talent. Blame cable TV, suburban sprawl, masturbation, or this city's uncanny attraction to Top 40 meat markets...

But my disappointment doesn't compare to the thrill I got hearing Dee wail. This cat can sing - man can he sing. And as soundman MDG pointed out, he wasn't doing anybody. Sure, you could hear some Otis and Jackie and Wilson in there. But Dee's got qualities of his own, namely volume: this guy is a loud-ass singer. Even without the microphone you could hear him!

The songs were brilliant as well, reminiscent of soul's first wave, but also its second, with bands like The Style Council. Dee came to town without the horns that were all over his "Bittersweet Batch" disc, but still pulled off the choppy stops and starts, strident grooves, and faded endings I fell in love with on the first spin.

Popped over to the inaugural Rochester Indie Fest at Water Street Music Hall in time to catch Julia "don't call me a YouTube phenom" Nunes rock the big stage. Nunes' banter was as entertaining and profane as her lyrics, as she raked ex-boyfriends over the coals ever so sweetly. Switching between guitar and ukulele, the young lady boomed grandiose. It was a night of big voices.

Veluxe - a band that embodies the term "indie" - followed with its dense, poppy tension-and-release rock. Here is a band that has no pretense or outward posturing in the cool department. Consequently, it is infinitely cooler than bands that think they are.