Three nights in and NXNE is all about picking your spots.

The idea of simply skipping from club to club, checking out a few songs by each artist was rubbished shortly after 10 pm, when the lineups for both the Rivoli and the Horseshoe stretched halfway down Queen Street.

If, say, you wanted to see Montreal singer/songwriter Sam Roberts, you had to arrive early and be willing to blow off the rest of the night or make other plans. Even less glamorous rooms like the Cameron House were jammed well before 11 pm, leaving me in a hallway trying to hear the stripped-down pop of Toronto's Space Elevator. No thanks.

Up at Clinton's, an early set by New York electro duo Shy Child received a more puzzled reception. With one guy tapping out beats on a strap-on keyboard and a drummer keeping time while singing into a massive headset microphone, Shy Child were intriguing enough, but the karaoke caterwaul from upstairs threatened to drowned them out. A hasty exit was essential.

The buzz around Toronto hard rockers Plastic Bag continues to grow, but rather than endear the handful of A&R types strolling by the 360, the Bag played one of the loudest sets in memory, almost clearing the room in seconds. It's unfortunate, because for all their bluster, songs like Workin' For The Middle Man are disturbingly catchy. Surely, the people down on King Street, who could no doubt hear the band as though they were playing right in front of them, would agree.

Up at Lounge 88, the buzz was more about the Tyson/Lewis fight than the music biz. Luckily, the amateurish plink-plonk cabaret of Australian Gilli Moon, who appeared to have spent more time applying her severe makeup than writing songs, meant you weren't missing much if you decided, as I did, to take a 30-minute breather to watch Mike Tyson fade into history.

Back at 88, Toronto's Young Ideas closed the festival on a decidedly twee note, with the piano trio doing their best Ben Folds Five impersonation for a handful of bemused spectators and well-dressed but confused College Street scenesters. After three nights of running around, the chilled-out vibe was just the ticket.