RAINY DAWG RADIO LOCAL MUSIC SHOWCASE: DUDE YORK, CHASTITY BELT, SO PITTED

We live in a pivotal time for rock 'n' roll. There's a growing apprehension that rock music is a diminishing finite resource and generations of young people picking up guitars have tapped dry the well of feelings and chord progressions. This anxiety has splintered in myriad ways, but if there's a single most detrimental impact of rock's last stand, it's the popularization of ironic slackers who don't give a shit about anything, in the guise of "just-for-fun" bands. There they are, wearing a Garfield shirt and playing another song with a wink-and-a-nod (if you're looking for me to name names, I'm talking about groups like Wavves and Best Coast). I can't help having some hope for the future, however, if bands begin to sound more like Chastity Belt. Their music is resounding and forceful and fun; it's humorous, but you would never call it dumb. Vocalist Julia Shapiro has got a Grace Slick–ness to her voice and can sing about love in the time of ponytails, aliens, and cadavers like no one else. Also, there are other young rock heroes in this local music showcase sponsored by Rainy Dawg Radio and ASUW Arts & Entertainment. I've long lionized Dude York, a band that grows in stature with every rollicking, teen-pop-infused release they put out, and you'll need to come early for So Pitted, who drop in, smack the lip, and ride the barrel of short, deranged punk fuck-offs. Maybe we've got a few more years of this rock 'n' roll fossil fuel in our backyard after all. Parnassus Cafe & Art Gallery, 7:30 pm, $5 suggested donation.

ANDREW JACKSON JIHAD, FUTURE OF THE LEFT, JEFF ROSENSTOCK

Andrew Jackson Jihad have been making turbulent, political, acoustic punk rock since 2004, and the spate of civil rights turmoil in their home state of Arizona has only emboldened their latest songs, with lyrics like "Sure, I could be a pussy and move to Portland or New York/Or I could stay and change the place where I was born." They're white dudes and can't speak directly for the marginalized woman or Latino, so they sometimes write songs about white privilege in ham-fisted ways ("I'm a straight white male in America/I got all the luck I need"), but let's be real: Who has ever done a good job writing about that? If it reminds us that there will be plenty of repugnant things to get angry about, especially after the election's over, it's doing us all a service. Neumos, 7 pm, $13.