There was a punk on the sidewalk in Rice Village earlier this evening, busking with an electric guitar and tiny amp. He seemed sure of himself despite being so young and, playing my usual role of den mother to all local bands,I dug in my pocket for a buck and put it in his hat.

"He was playing Sublime; why did you give him money?" my boyfriend asked. Fair question.

I gave him money because I was an hour from seeing The Swell Season, the band from the movie Once, which is in part a fantasy about struggling musicians finding a way to record an album. I thought of Glen Hansard on the street early in the movie, his huge voice awash in heartbreak on a sidewalk, and figured it had to be a sign that I should give the kid a buck, regardless of the Sublime.

I'd like to think that karma smiled down on us all tonight during the Swell Season show, my small act of kindness setting in motion the perfect conditions for the perfect show. But it probably has a lot more to do with a road-tested band (Hansard and his longtime pop-rock band, The Frames, have been toiling for years at this); the electricity that exists between Hansard and his Once costar, musical collaborator and ex-girlfriend, Marketa Irglova; and just a little bit of magic.

Photo by Sara Cress: The Swell Season sings Daniel Johnston.

Magic, part 1: As the sizable crowd waited for the main event, chatting through opener Rachael Yamagata's generic -- though dramatic, I'll give her that -- girl-with-guitar set, I noticed the fair amount of solitary and sensitive souls around me: girls standing alone chewing their nails, fat guys awkwardly shifting their weight around, someone said "NPR," someone else was talking about seeing Frank Rich. For once, the nice people weren't in the minority; the dudebro with the leather cuff and tight T-shirt in front of me who kept wacking me with his elbow was the minority. It felt very nice to be with my sensitive, smart, NPR-listening people.

The set opened with Fallen From the Sky and covered many of the songs from the Once soundtrack: If You Want Me, sweetly sung by Irglova, When Your Mind's Made Up, and the title song. Hansard unplugged and stepped away from the mic for Say It To Me Now, using his impressive busking voice to fill the large room. The rest of the set drew from the band's lovely new album, Strict Joy.

Magic, part 2: During the end of his solo stretch onstage, Hansard appeared overwhelmed by the crowd's enthusiasm. I don't think I've ever seen an artist at the moment when his fame has become real to him. He mentioned all of the years when touring America had been fruitless, but tonight, in Houston (of all places), Hansard seemed to see his hard work finally pay off (Oscar win notwithstanding; he seemed pretty shell-shocked that night.) I might have imagined the tears in his eyes, but his voice was full with gratitude, and there were definitely tears in mine.

Magic, part 3: Hansard requested help from the crowd throughout the set, coaxing pretty melodies after politely telling us to "turn the Texan down." Toward the end of the set, on a new song, he taught us a melody and had us repeat it, saying we were to imagine ourselves as the back-up line on an R&B song. As we dutifully repeated, one soulful, church-polished voice rose above the rest, and Hansard pulled her from the crowd. Her name was Moji, a microphone appeared and she joyfully sang back-up -- a little hesitant at first, but found her footing by the end, goading the audience to cheer as she sang. She screamed as it ended about how excited she was, kissed Irglova on the head, and got back in the audience. Dear Moji, I just found your band. I think we're going to have to talk, because you were awesome.

The encore began with Falling Slowly, the Oscar-winning "hit," if you will, and ended with the band leaving their instruments, coming to the edge of the stage to sing Daniel Johnston's Devil Town. It was a wonderful nod to a hometown weirdo, and a joyful end to a fantastic show.