I was talking to someone, and she hadn't ever seen an opera," recalls Stacy Eckert, who performs the title role in Opera Quad Cities' new production of Carmen. "And I was trying to explain Carmen, and I said, 'Well, I bet you know more tunes from the show than you think you do.' And she said, 'Aw, no, I don't know any of them.'

"So I started humming a few. She goes, 'Oh, I know that one! Oh, that was in The Bad News Bears, the original one! Oh, I know that one, too!' And I said, 'See? You know a ton of them!'"

When you open your copy of the River Cities' Reader to see what's being offered in the way of live entertainment, you might come to the conclusion the Quad Cities has little to provide in the way of indie rock.

But a spate of nationally recognized acts that came through the Quad Cities last year prove the vitality of the local alternative-rock scene. Wilderness, Two Gallants, Hockey Night, and The M's played here, for example, and it's hard to imagine that promoters would have booked these groups if it weren't for the local bands that built a loyal fan base for this type of music.

Augie March, Moo, You Bloody Choir. Charting number-one singles on the Australian home front, it's shocking that Augie March achieved close to no notice in the States. Elegant in its simplicity, the band's brand of rock can be compared to post-alt-country-era Wilco, but with a definite Aussie influence - think elements of Midnight Oil, but more literate. Past albums saw Augie March rushing forth like a speeding train, but this time the songs are built around acoustic, rather than electric, guitar parts, so they have a more cautious and quiet path to their destinations. From pop anthems to grandiose ballads, singer-songwriter Glenn Richards uses lyrics as instruments strung together to shimmer like violin strings or crash into one another like cymbals. While Australian critics sing the band's praises, and fans sing their songs, one can't help but wonder if we Yanks are simply mooing in the wrong bloody choir.

Calling a CD Loose Ends is dangerous - with the implication that a band is emptying its junk drawer of songs - but for a local act that hasn't broken yet, it's downright lethal.

I had hoped that the third CD from Iowa City's Human Aftertaste would merely be misnamed, but Loose Ends is a perfectly appropriate title. There's an EP of good material on this collection, but at 45 minutes it's fatty and self-indulgent. Two versions of the cover "Goodbye Horses," a live track, and a mostly spoken-word piece drag it down, and much of the remainder is undistinguished.