Cellist Helen Money is a rock musician who plays a classical instrument. I asked her before the show to describe her sound. "Dark, kinda raw, and melodic. I have a hard time describing myself," she told me.

If I were her, I would be hard pressed to make any kind of sense of it, too. Using effects pedals and amplifiers, Money's sound is in-your-face, which is surprising considering her instrument of choice. Her sound is dark, eerie, and loud. The soft-spoken musician lets it all come out on stage, bending slightly over her instrument, eyes closed, and seemingly entranced while she plays. The sounds of her instrument swelled around the café with ease and a heartfelt, powerful resonance. Although the sound was dark enough to make you feel like you were swallowed in a dimly lit dream, it was a dream you did not want to wake from.

Pop/experimental group Hank and Cupcakes took the mood that Money left on stage and ran with it. It was unfortunate that the majority of the audience had left by this point in the show. Had they known what was to come, they probably would have stayed.

Hank and Cupcakes played full speed, as if they were playing to a full house. This is a charismatic, minimalist outfit, equipped only with drums, vocals, and bass guitar, and before the two even play their first note, you could feel the chemistry. The two seemed enveloped in their own magnetic, mysterious energy and confidence. They danced around the set unassuming, playing a dash of electro-pop with a potent rock edge. The music was mind-stirring and avant-garde, with a gritty rock vocal and a continuous deliverance of catchy, perfectly executed bass walks.

Every once in awhile, singer Cupcakes came out into the audience, waving and thrashing her body around to the infectious sounds seeping off of the stage. Her demeanor in these moments was irresistible and elegantly flirtatious. Hank and Cupcakes' overall presence is unparalleled - it is a must-see live show.