Sometimes the best musical experiences come in the most unexpected places.

Case in point: I went to the Domino Room on Monday night to see Souls of Mischief, the seminal Oakland hip-hop crew that’s touring ahead of its upcoming sort-of-comeback album “Montezuma’s Revenge.”

They were good, though MC Tajai was nowhere to be seen. For a little under an hour, his three partners — A-Plus, Opio and Phesto — delivered almost non-stop, high-energy boom-bap hip-hop that no doubt thrilled their fans and followers of their larger Hieroglyphics family.

As with the Hiero show here in August, I most enjoyed the beats, this time employed by DJ Lex. There was a funky James Brown shout-out, a sample of the 1950s rock hit “Tequila,” and enough laid-back West Coast flavor to keep Central Oregon warm till spring. The bubbly backing track on Hiero’s “Fantasy Island” and ascending hook of Opio’s “Chaotic Erotic” were highlights.

But let’s rewind a bit. I arrived at the Domino Room at about 10:30 p.m. thinking I’d slide in just in time for the Souls. In fact, opening act Serendipity Project was tearing down their gear (word around the club was they were terrific) and the second opener, Bukue One, had yet to take the stage.

I wasn’t disappointed, but I had no idea what to expect from Bukue One, so I settled into one of the Domino Room’s seats to hear what he had to give.

I wasn’t seated long.

Armed with only his iPod and a couple of microphones, the Bay Area-based MC/skateboarder/graffiti artist proceeded to rip the roof off the chilly room with a blend of old-school hip-hop beats, futuristic sounds and a healthy dose of reggae vibe, all done with a good-natured charisma not always seen at a rap show.

Bukue One’s music was irresistibly danceable, anchored by big, fat bass and adorned with laser-gun zaps and squiggles. I’ve got no song titles for you, but I know that early in the set, when he implored the sadly small crowd to “unlock your legs,” most folks responded. What started as 20 or so people up front when Bukue took the stage had more than tripled by his third song.

In between tracks, the guy would retreat to the back of the stage, check what was next on his iPod, and take a drink of water, all the while freestyling a capella to keep the flow going. Track after track was connected by Bukue’s playful off-the-cuff rhymes, which were more a series of jokes and winks and chuckles than anything else.

About halfway through the set, I realized something: I had spent most of the performance with a big smile on my face. And so had Bukue One. The man had an affability about him that kept me fully engaged, and had everyone around me smiling and dancing like mad. It was fantastic.

He went on to do a couple of bawdy songs (bragging after one: “Notice I didn’t curse!”) and a few reggae songs, and he continued to freestyle in between, never missing a beat. In my notes, I wrote: “Does he ever not rhyme?”

Who knows. All I know is that I was charmed by the dude’s persona. And lest that seem like a bit of a backhanded compliment, I absolutely loved his music too. Fresh, positive hip-hop can be hard to find these days. I found some Monday night, and on Tuesday morning, I was checking out Bukue’s MySpace and Web site.

All that warm fuzzy feeling multiplied when I walked out of the Domino Room after the Souls set — more than an hour later — and saw Bukue One demonstrating a kickflip on his skateboard for some kids in the Domino Room entryway. Then he smiled, exchanged with them a handshake, and turned his attention back to selling CDs and T-shirts to the next happy fan that came his way.