(Neptune) See preview.
(Barboza) How much super-brainy instrumental firepower can you handle? Rangda—Sir Richard Bishop (guitar), Ben Chasny (guitar), and Chris Corsano (drums)—will test your mettle, as they harness a molten strain of rock whose cyclotronic fury will leave your ears smoking; check out "Fist Family" from Rangda's False Flag for an idea of what I'm babbling about. The trio's latest album, Formerly Extinct, is a less combustible and more Eastern-sounding display of their nuanced, maverick chemistry. Master Musicians of Bukkake are the most fascinating and inspirational band in Seattle right now. Every show's different, every show's a mesmerizing, mystical mindfuck. DAVE SEGAL
(Crocodile) Relax to the spacey, soft-focus paradise pop of Sinkane—also known as multi-instrumentalist Ahmed Gallab of Columbus, Ohio, by way of Sudan—as persistent '70s-style funk lines noodle around blooming vocals and fluid percussion. Gallab has played with/in bands like Of Montreal and Yeasayer, and though some comparisons could be made, Sinkane leans more toward a "mellow beach spliff" style than the "torrential sheets of acid" bent his friends have been on recently. Also playing are Toro Y Moi (hazy, synth on ice—you read Trent Moorman's spirulina-coated interview with Chaz Bundwick last week, right?) and Dog Bite (the airy pop project of Phil Jones). EMILY NOKES
(Barboza) See Sound Check.
(Q) See Data Breaker.
(Comet) I kinda forgot about paying attention to doom metal, until I saw that fucking crazy and amazing documentary Last Days Here, about Pentagram singer Bobby Liebling. Listening to Pentagram got me wanting more, and suddenly, um, HELLO, WITCH MOUNTAIN! The Portland group stands out against their doom brothers Sabbath, Saint Vitus, and Candlemass because their lead singer is a sister, not a brother, named Uta Plotkin. Her voice reminds me of a young Ann Wilson belting out "Barracuda," except Plotkin's is soaring higher and more wildly over some of the heaviest of metals. Also, like all doom, it sounds extra good when you're stoned. Hey, that's legal now here! KELLY O
(Benaroya) This is your chance to really hear that recently appointed principal flute who's been making your ears perk up back there in the winds section, Demarre McGill. Guest-conducted by Douglas Boyd in an all-Mozart program, including Symphony No. 1 and the "Haffner" serenade. Also March 2. JEN GRAVES
(Nectar) See My Philosophy.
(Various) See preview.
(Neumos) See Underage.
(Paramount) Late last century, two new fathers in Southern California had an idea: Let's make a children's television show that exposes kids to actual good art in a totally fun way. The result is Yo Gabba Gabba!, the Nickelodeon smash that's seen such guests performers as Snoop Dogg, Devendra Banhart, Talib Kweli, Dave Grohl, Moby, and the Drive-By Truckers. Tonight, the Yo Gabba Gabba! experience lands at the Paramount, with special guest star Biz Markie. Here is a perfect opportunity to celebrate in post–Initiative 502 Seattle. DAVID SCHMADER
(Showbox at the Market) The lads of Hey Marseilles make elegant folk pop that swells triumphantly in between stripped-down side hugs of piano or simple guitar. Matt Bishop's vocals are made of crystal and ring earnest in their storytelling (the yearning!), backed by masterful musicianship—bowed string instruments, sometimes bells, sometimes brass (and even accordion in there, why not?). It's a familiar sound, but it's not trite, which is the pit that other attempts often tumble into. Most importantly, these boys are certainly a band you could take home to your parents—your mom would be charmed by their impeccable hair, and your father would let them drink his fancy Scotch. This is HM's album-release show for their newest, Lines We Trace. EMILY NOKES
(Sunset) Athens, Georgia's Maserati make some of the most aerodynamically cool driving music in America. A strictly instrumental quartet, they concoct a spacey prog-rock/stoic-disco fusion that fosters efficient, linear motion. Fans of Goblin, Zombi, and Trans Am should buckle themselves in for a heroic, epic joyride. DAVE SEGAL
(Various) See preview.
(Re-bar) See Data Breaker.
(Cairo) See Data Breaker.
(Blue Moon) Umbra Dogs combine the ungodly powers of experimental guitarist Bill Horist and improv saxophone giant Wally Shoup. With no Umbra Dogs music available to hear at the moment, it's hard to provide detailed analysis. But anyone who's cocked an ear to Seattle's fertile underground music scene knows how devastatingly inventive these players are. Same goes for Climax Golden Twins guitarist Jeffery Taylor, whose exploratory and fiery excursions into noise rock and nimble forays into blues and folk idioms always impress. Corespondents are one of the city's most adroit adapters of atypical tunings, using the Greek bouzouki and Vietnamese dan-bao to forge beautifully ominous tonalities and an antique mystique. This sort of thing can descend into kitsch, but Corepondents' virtuosity and acute compositional instincts keep their music cornpone-free. DAVE SEGAL
(Comet) The deceptively named Blues Control—Coopersburg, Pennsylvania–based Lea Cho and Russ Waterhouse—have been refining their distinctively mutational take on rock, dub, and jazz over four albums. The murkily psychedelic excursions of Puff and Blues Control (both from 2007) have given way to more vividly hued recent full-lengths Local Flavor and Valley Tangents. What makes Blues Control's music stand out from their peers is Cho's gorgeous, expressive piano playing, which dances elegantly amid Waterhouse's often-discordant guitar riffs and dubwise abstractions. Blues Control blur genres into a bitches' brew of transportational properties—even successfully moving into skewed new-age territory in collaboration with the legendary Laraaji on FRKWYS Vol. 8. DAVE SEGAL
(Crocodile) See Underage.
(Moore) Holy prog-rock trinity, Batman! British icons Yes perform in their entirety three LPs from their erratically brilliant catalog: The Yes Album (1971), Close to the Edge (1972), and Going for the One (1977). Nothing succeeds like excess with Yes, and this show is geared for the die-hard aficionado... with much disposable income. The Yes Album boasts fan favorites like "Yours Is No Disgrace," "Starship Trooper," and "I've Seen All Good People." You can hear the band revving up to their peak here. Close to the Edge is massive, scarily virtuosic, and as baroque as the inner workings of the stock exchange. Gird your third ear for this one. Going for the One is the least remarkable of the three works (Fragile would've been the better choice), but by this point in the show you'll be so devastated from the previous two classics, you'll need a respite from the soaring artistry. (Jon Davison replaces original singer Jon Anderson; Chris Squire, Steve Howe, Alan White, and Geoff Downes complete the lineup.) DAVE SEGAL
(Crocodile) There's still plenty of mileage left in the motorik rhythm. That metronomic beat pioneered by genius Germans Neu! circa "Hallogallo" has powered umpteen bands since the early '70s, and its seemingly inexhaustible propulsion flourishes even in Chile, where the most excellent Föllakzoid dwell. Recording for Sacred Bones (as do laid-back psych-boogie tourmates Psychic Ills), Föllakzoid play mellowly urgent and trance-inducing space rock that suggests they have ice water flowing through their veins. There's a fine line between monotony and transcendence, and Föllakzoid's repetitious, minimalist tracks achieve the difficult feat of making you wish they'd last forever—or until last call. DAVE SEGAL See also Stranger Suggests.
(Neumos) These are some particularly rad, of-this-place people, artists who couldn't be from anywhere else. Lemolo, you know, are ladies from Poulsbo who met as kayak instructors. They send a quiet pop magic seeping out over the crowd, until people start making out and being tender and sometimes get weepy. It's super-sweet. Seacats are two brothers from Kelso plus their band, and their smart pop feels like a kiss from your '90s dude best friends, all grown up. Hella prolific OCnotes is more and more a symbol of 206 pride; sometimes as half of Metal Chocolates, sometimes melting brains solo, he'll take you out of the past and into the dreamy future. Spac3man I don't know as well, but his live shows are supposed to be spectacular. This show is a send-off for all these artists to head to SXSW, and your dollars will go toward their journey. Make Seattle proud! Give 'em your love! ANNA MINARD
(Barboza) Caspian's latest album, Waking Season, is an instrumental electro-rock record that is so dynamic, and so cinematic, that you can't listen to it without it becoming the perfect soundtrack of everything that surrounds you. The staccato plucks of the guitar strings are the raindrops falling into the puddles. The rhythmic but fluid drumming is the flow of thoughts inside your head. The fuzzy, pounding synthesizer beats down just like quick footsteps against wet pavement, and while the fluttering guitar riffs build to a climax, your heart beats faster as the music bathes everything in a golden, romantic glow. Put it on, wander the city, and everything will feel fucking magical. MEGAN SELING
(Chop Suey) What a delightful local triple-scoop super sundae! Stickers is a band you should definitely know about by now, because they are positively heroes of jagged, art-rocky no wave—wild, hoarse vocals and saxophone blare over railroad rhythms. Next up are King County's finest garage duo, Pony Time, who just released their newest LP, Go Find Your Own—a splendid album that finds our friends growing a little faster and more frenzied, just when you thought a more danceable fuzz wasn't possible. And then we have the Pharmacy—everyone's favorite psychedelic-flavored pinwheel-pop spirits, who just want everyone to have the best time on their homemade party raft of tunes. EMILY NOKES