VHS Or Beta at the Patio, Friday.

• Chevy Downs at the Vogue, Thursday. When it comes to alt-country bands, usually a little dose is enough for me. But I could have listened to this band all night. Mixing in good-natured humor, the many-pieced group managed to cut through the mid-evening ennui at the Vogue and played a stellar set. Strong songwriting and even stronger performances are their forte.

• Creepin’ Charley at the Alley Cat, Thursday. Here is a strong new contender for best garage-rock band in Indy. Featuring Shelby Kelley on vocals and the Jabs’ Andy Fark on drums, they played an intense and throat-grabbing set of punk ’n’ roll. They looked and acted like they didn’t give a damn, and it worked. Can’t wait to see these hell-raisers again.

• 7 Degrees From Center at the Patio, Thursday. I’ve seen this band so many times over the years that I felt I was entitled to skip their shows lately. Bad move on my part. This metal band, while always very good, has gotten even better. Their songs are stronger, the playing is punchier and the vocals are their best yet. They’ve kicked it up several notches, which is amazing. Any top 10 list that doesn’t include them is screwed up.

• Rev. Peyton’s Big Damn Band at the Monkey’s Tale, Thursday. They sound like Robert Johnson on crack and look like the Hee-Haw crew on acid. But they get one hell of a sound out of an acoustic guitar, washboard and snare drum. It’s easy to see why they’re big around here.

• Brando at the Vogue, Thursday. People talk a lot of shit about this band, but they deliver a unique blend of pop, rock, GBV and the Beatles that you won’t hear much of around here. Frontman Derek Richey is the most engaging nerdy frontman you’ll ever see.

•  Mina Keohane Group at the Monkey’s Tale, Thursday. Hidden behind a bank of keyboards, Ms. Keohane led an adventurous and talented group through a set of straight-ahead jazz that’s pure enough for the purists and interesting enough for the rest of us.

• Chris Shaffer at the Patio, Friday. Smooth and professional as always. Shaff can rock even an empty venue with smart-rock. Special notice to Kenny Taylor on guitar, who runs the band like Paul Shaffer does his.

• The Slurs at the NUVO party at the Patio, Friday. “They rock harder than the MC5 and they’re prettier than Britney Spears,” I said in introducing them. That was an understatement. Something happened to this band to make them play harder, rawer and fiercer than ever before. Sounding almost like a hardcore band in terms of intensity and attitude, they proved themselves in front of a lot of out-of-towners, most of whose jaws were dropped.

• VHS or Beta at the NUVO party at the Patio, Friday. If you like the Cure, you’ll love this Louisville band. They somehow manage to take the sound of Robert Smith and Co. and blend it with the energy of Joy Division or The Jam. Their songs were smart, snappy and eloquent while never straying from the ’80s pop context. It was both a five-star performance and a joy to watch.

• Maneshevitz at the Patio, Friday. They came with high recommendations from Chandler and Rob G of The Free Zone. As usual, they were on target. The band was eccentric, lovable, potent and smart. They played with passion and verve rare for an indie band. Someone in the group has listened to Sonic Youth and taken notes.

• The Sights at the Patio, Friday. While I haven’t bought into the hype surrounding this band — next Strokes, my ass! — their set was much better than expected. They sing about getting robbed, getting drunk and getting laid over a musical bed of sloppy garage rock. That’s good enough for me.

• Blueprint Music at Birdy’s, Friday. Elegant and classy bluegrass and folk from a great vocalist and great musicians. Maybe they don’t rock hard enough for some, but they’d have been welcomed with open arms at the Grand Ole Opry in the ’50s, and Patsy Cline would have tried to learn some vocal tricks from Blueprint’s Kate Lamont.

• Villebillies at the Monkey’s Tale, Friday. Hated it. Five minutes was too much.

•The Ya Ya’s at the Alley Cat, Saturday. These veteran rockers looked so different from the last time I saw them, approximately four years ago, I didn’t recognize them. But what I did recognize was some damned intelligent rock and roll, kind of a poor man’s Elvis Costello, from the era when EC still had some balls. This band should be playing shows every week, not hiding out.

• The Academy at the Patio, Saturday. Somebody came up to me and asked me if I perceived lead singer Andy Fry as “smarmy.” I hadn’t seen it that way. Since I know the dude pretty well, I know he’s a sincere, funny, smart guy. Maybe they strike people the wrong way, but when I hear them, I hear Daryl Hall’s lost songbook. “Allison” is catchy and touching, and the band is as tight as Phil Collins’ ever was. And that’s not a dis.

-Steve Hammer 

I wish the Midwest Music Summit would last a whole week and the number of clubs were cut in half, because there was simply no way to catch even a majority of the bands. So, rather than getting stressed, my goal was simply to drink and listen to music. In that, I succeeded.

I had to catch Ice Nine at the Emerson. If I’d forgotten what it was like to see this band play, it all came back during the set, and they kicked much ass. I felt like singer Jon Michael did a little too much shit-talking, but I did have to laugh when he yelled at the people in the crowd who hadn’t been there for the whole show.

For about 45 minutes it was 1996 all over again. I say that not only for the stage diving, but because their set was so heavy and tight it felt like they never stopped playing.

I got a similar vibe when I caught Mad Poets Society at United States of Mind. MPS is basically half of Big MF Stick, who were flat out one of my favorite bands during their reign throughout the ’90s. MPS played a no-bullshit set of hip-hop without all the bling. Though they had a few technical glitches, you would have found me watching with a cheesy grin.

Also on Friday, I stopped in at Birdy’s long enough to catch The Middlemen, another band from Louisville, and found myself groovin’ right along. They were straight-ahead rock for sure but had a touch of funk and stoner on their resume.

Speaking of stoners, the thick smoke at the Melody Inn on Thursday told the story when Portland, Maine’s Eldemur Krimm lit the place up. I might have already been lit up when I walked in, but the Old Styles I was drinking didn’t hurt.

Before I made it to the Melody I was at the Patio watching a band from Cincy calling themselves Denial and did they rock when they closed with The Who’s “Baba O’Reilly.” On Saturday, Peachead at Birdy’s impressed me with a very climactic set that went from spaced out quiet parts crashing into full on distorted noise. Then, over at the packed Alley Cat, I got to see (or at least hear) Homeless J from Fort Wayne. They weren’t too bad, kinda reminded me of Stone Temple Pilots’ pop phase.

—Mel Duncan

Cath coffeehouse was quiet at 9 a.m. Sunday morning. Shelley Miller, who had performed at La Jolla Friday night as part of the Midwest Music Summit, sat on the couch, a little sleepy-eyed, next to her guitar until Dave Golden, who performed at Cath the night before, walked in with his guitar in tow. They started performing unrehearsed and improvised tunes that where appropriately moody accompaniment for the slow-moving morning patrons and the morning sun seeping in through the open doors. The soundtrack to the morning flowed out onto 54th Street until another singer-songwriter, who had also performed at Cath the night before, Jeremiah Birnbaum, also from NYC, walked in with his guitar — and wet hair.

Not stopping for coffee or bagels themselves, the now trio produced beautiful melodies with such delicacy and vocal harmonies that they made you doubt that the three had actually met for the first time here at the summit and just somewhat whimsically decided to play together. And what synchronicity they shared — their voices, their delivery, their skill.

Though I loved The Slurs at the Patio Friday night and was impressed with Renny Field from Australia at the Red Room Saturday night, this lovely little unscheduled morning was a highlight and perfect ending to an amazing weekend of music.

—Mary Lee Pappas

MabLab

A lineup of top regional acts Thursday at the Vogue concluded with overlapping sets from Rhymefest and MabLab. Having signed recently to the J Records label, rapper Che “Rhymefest” Smith no longer has to prove himself the city’s top MC, and it showed in a performance that was shaky in presentation though long on good vibes. More than once, he silenced accompanying DJ Indiana Jones in order to highlight specific lyrics a cappella. He concluded by bringing out MabLab’s stellar vocalist, Kate Lamont, for a duet. MabLab returned the favor by giving Rhymefest a cameo in their set. Indy’s ambassadors to Planet Trip-Hop backed up their rep with a fine performance that will be one of their last, as the group prepares for an amicable breakup. Their blend of diverse talents, and their ability to make listeners think and move at the same time, will be sorely missed.

—Scott Hall

• Maneshevitz. Hipster indie pop with engorged instrumental swells and slick vintage rock guitar tones. Maneshevitz channels an ostensible affection for the days of Roxy Music, but its Buddy Holly passive-aggressive influence gives these guys their “cool.”

• Seth Horan. Horan, a solo bass singer-songwriter, made light of the jam bands and their idiosyncrasies during his set at the JamBase outdoor stage. “You can’t kick me out of the hippy club because I already cut my hair two years ago.” Horan balances his comedic bits with pretty adult contemporary songs and expert musicianship. Yes, he does have fans, but it’s the bass players from all the other bands that gather around his sets with their mouths agape.

• VHS or Beta. Perhaps my enduring favorite find of this year’s Midwest Music Summit. This Louisville, Ky. (yes, Louisville), band melds disco (yes, disco), house and soul. Their music contains a base of Duran Duran with the Rapture at their most accessible and with traces of the Cure at their most profound. With their upcoming Astralwerks release, this band is sure to help define the face of popular music in 2005, or at the very least it will be one of THE dance albums of the year.

• Kiss Me Quick. Easily one of the most forgettable of the middle-of-the-road rock bands to play the Summit, Kiss Me Quick had no discernible style or differentiation to their songs. Every once and again there was an elemental whisper of Braid that seemed contrived for the express purpose of being compared to Braid.

• Jeremiah Birnbaum. Best when accompanied by fellow New York singer-songwriter Akiva on slide guitar and later harmonica, Birnbaum’s clear-toned voice was reminiscent of the old recordings of James Taylor singing folky blues standards.

• Bel Auburn. Melodic, acoustic rock balanced with a pronounced sensitivity and backbone. These guys could easily make a killing in the world of non-secular music or, with a slightly turned direction and stylized development, go the way of Graham Colton.

• Gentlemen Caller. Many of Gentlemen Caller’s songs have an autumnal, staid beat and instrumentation with a less-is-definitely-more type of charm. Kenny Childers, as frontman, has the ability to animate a song not with big guitars and fancy tricks, but rather a simple twist and execution of vocal melody, much like Stephen Malkmus during the days of the Silver Jews and Pavement’s best recordings. Although not averse to rocking, when most comfortable, Gentlemen Caller is superb make-out music.

• Miranda Sound. Debuting several songs bound for their next record, Miranda Sound played an electrifying set of indie rock. Their set was marked by high energy, lots of sweat on stage and a minor technical difficulty resolved by Free Zone DJ and NUVO correspondent Matt Chandler loading a replacement guitar strap on Dan Gerken during “Cast Anchor Cast,” a song that features Gerken singing through the pickups on his Fender.

• Elefant. I’m still not completely clear on my verdict for this set. Every other song worked well, and were even elegant, but the ones that didn’t had an element of almost parody because of the inflated frontman antics of Diego Garcia, who looked to rival the over-the-top vanity and theatrics of Morrissey. At its best, Elefant was smooth and stylishly composed. At its worst, self-indulgent and even a little hard to watch.

• Courtney Kaiser. Stylish yet understated, fantastically feminine, but with true grit as a singer-songwriter, Courtney Kaiser is a gem. Her song “Blue Sky” is one that is immediately reminiscent of Sheryl Crow circa the Globe Sessions. Kaiser’s voice is a lasting personal favorite.

• The Villebillies. The lesson: Just because you can mix bluegrass with hip-hop doesn’t mean you should — although the white kids will apparently eat it up if you do. They packed the Monkey’s Tale and the crowd was having a blast, but I believe they stand to lower the collective IQ of music fans everywhere.

• The Sights. They’re no Blues Hammer. One of Detroit’s finest, The Sights delivered a lengthy set of blues-steeped psychedelic garage rock that featured a heavy dose of what’s to come on their next record. The Sights are an extremely young trio that pays homage to their influences by maintaining purist attention to detail in their songwriting, their kinetic live performances and a full-size vintage organ. This was one of the most spirited sets of the Summit, by far.