Seeing Jeffrey Lewis and Quasi in the same night seems like an unlikely dream come true. The two may not seem like a likely pair, viagra 60mg but on Wednesday at Great Scott they brought out the best in each other and delivered two of their most mesmerizing performances to date.

It was undoubtedly one of the nosiest, tadalafil loosest Jeffrey Lewis shows I’ve seen. Lewis, link preforming with his currant band “The Rain”, maintained the sentimentality and charm that he’s aptly associated with while busting out some seriously heavy guitar moves that some of his fans haven’t seen in a long while. Using a projector, he also showed two of his “short films”- handmade crayon drawings about Alan Moore and The French Revolution presented with light instrument work and clever but poignant lyrics.

Something about Jeffrey Lewis’ demeanor brings a kind of magic to every part of his performances- he’s often smiling, eyes calm or closed, and seems genuinely excited to be wherever he is. The band brought out some crowd pleasers like “When You’re By Yourself”, but also a challenging song about Pussy Riot that called the audience to be more aware of themselves and the artists around them. I won’t name names, but at least two members of the AP crew came pretty close to crying. As if it couldn’t get better, Lewis ended the set with a cover of Sebadoh’s “Rebound”, cranked out at full force with wild guitar and steady drums and bass that Lou Barlow himself would be proud of.

And then came Quasi.

There’re a lot of clichés that apply here. I’d like to avoid the usual comparisons to “fine wines” or talk about how artists can become “wiser with age”… but goddamn. Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss took the stage and immediately brought about flashbacks to the “golden days” of indie rock, with ferocious drumming, unscripted, brilliant keys, and hypnotizing guitar.

The side of Coomes’ keyboard was spray-painted with the warning “FRAGILE” but he treated it like it was unbreakable. It shook while he thumped melodies out of it and at times we held our breath, terrified it would topple over. It didn’t. It seemed as if Weiss’ drums were less of an instrument and more of an extension of her own body, pounding against itself until beats immerged and slowly merged with Coome’s keys or guitar into a song.

It’s hard to believe such an incredible, strong sound could come from just two people on a small stage in Allston. Standing in the audience, it was hard not to feel like a little kid staring at a bottle rocket for the first time, amazed and frightened, wondering, “How could something so small be so powerful?”

Here’s to another twenty years of Quasi.