I'm not defending this town, I'm not making excuses, but I've lived here long enough to know she's a fickle gal. You've gotta repeatedly ply her with bon bons and flowers and reassurances that you won't split after she puts out. And last night we barely got to first base at the German House for the second annual Rochester Indie Fest. The work that went into this event was extraordinary and the line-up --- last night and now through the rest of the weekend --- is easily some of our city's best talent. However, I counted literally tens of tens of people --- maybe 30 people, maybe 50, I dunno. But that don't mean this fest is shot just yet.

The three acts that performed Thursday night were put to the test. It's easy to love what you do when the throng is screaming your name. It's a different story when the number of people on stage outnumbers those in the audience, as it did with The Atomic Swindlers' set. This is one of the best bands I know anywhere; sonic masters of a soundscape bigger than the sum of the players' parts. The band played as if it was in an arena in outer space. Too bad there weren't more there to hear the scream.

Hotel Reverie has tightened, darkened, and matured since I saw the group last, and played a hypnotic set of dark and stark with splashes of melodic splendor.

New York's Lee Nestor played an enthusiastic set in white Docs. Nestor has a great presence and pretty voice, but I'd leave the Janis to Janis next time.

Look, I'm not going to punish the pioneering music fans who were there; we know who we are. And I believe this festival is a good idea and still has a good chance in the future --- and even in the next two days. We've still got this weekend's line-up to get Rochester warmed up and her panties down. C'mon baby, you know you wanna...