THURSDAY 4/24

Simian Mobile Disco, JDH, Dave P, Pretty Titty, Fourcolorzack

(Neumo's) See Bug in the Bassbin

Brotherhood of the Drum

(Sunset) See The Score

Club Pop: BARR, the Pharmacy

(Chop Suey) See Underage

FRIDAY 4/25

Dave Brubeck, Ramsey Lewis

(Paramount) See The Score

Rudy and the Rhetoric, Onry Ozzborn, Mis'Fatale

(Nectar) See My Philosophy

The Mae Shi, PRE, Past Lives, Midwife, Talbot Tagora

(Vera Project) London noise punks PRE's debut record, Epic Fits, contains 15 tracks and runs just under 27 minutes. So there's plenty of spastic, paint-splattering fits, but none of them are especially epic (the longest clocks in at 4:41, and it's an aberration). The boy/girl vocals recall Huggy Bear minus the legible Riot Grrrl politics or anything approaching the catchiness of "Her Jazz" ("Dude Fuk" comes closest), but the blast beats, garbage-fuzz bass, detuned guitar thrash, and nervous, careening rhythms suggest something entirely more hectic. Smell-y L.A. neon punks the Mae Shi are practically pop by comparison, dressing up nasally chant-along singing with fried guitar and faux lo-fi synths. Fun fact: Former member Ezra Buchla is the son of pioneering analog synth maker Don Buchla. ERIC GRANDY

Bronze Fawn, Lords of the North, Panther Attack!

(King Cobra) Lords of the North sound pretty much like what you'd expect a band called Lords of the North to sound like—their big blasts of distorted guitar are laced with some psychedelic soloing while the eerily monotonous vocals take a cue from the heavy side of stoner rock. The opening track on their self-titled debut EP, "Souls Come Rising," is a slow, muddy song that finds a place for both classic rock tambourine play and demonic chanted refrain, "We're the Lords of the North, we're the Lords of the North." "Follow the Falcon" is a little more epic—the volume gets turned up on everything and the vocals (about a black winter and "only four hours of light") scream out from low in the mix. Of the six songs on the CD, only two fall below the six-minute mark and every second is driven by unrelenting heaviness; they're not so much songs as the anthems you hear while marching to a darker place. MEGAN SELING

Facts About Funerals, Star Anna, Vanderbuilte, Tailenders

(Comet) A couple weeks ago, Star Anna gave me goose bumps. She was performing an Old 97's cover at the Round, a monthly music and art series at the Fremont Abbey. The song was the embittered "Wish the Worst for You," and her strong, country- tinged voice was laced with the crazy passion of a women scorned. It was even better than the original, and Star Anna's vocals are just as perfectly emotive in her own material. That night she also played a song called "Restless Water," a haunting and sad story about a serial killer and his prey. Her lyrics balanced precariously between being the sacred victim, the spooky-as-fuck criminal, and the sad narrator—her imagery transported you to the foggy, dark, damp scene of the crime. I can't recall ever being so scared by a song. MEGAN SELING

Comeback: Dee Jay Jack, Colin Self, DJ Colby B, Porq, FITS

(Chop Suey) Comeback is on with another experiment in the volume of lubricated inducement. Portland's Dee Jay Jack (Pony alum) sprays out seamless manifold cuts of obscure Italodisco and contemporary hits. Jack will personally see to it that the physical condition and proximity of bodies in the building are wet and banging. Colin Self is a rising star in the electro torch singer genre, reminiscent of classic queer disco pioneers Alison Moyet and Soft Cell's Marc Almond. DJ Colby B spins the mad mashed fantasy. She will master you and the speakers to the floor. Then all gets told in the Fitsian fold. Comeback in lights, taste your neighbor and get off. TRENT MOORMAN

Peanut Butter Wolf, DJ Spinja

(War Room) L.A.'s Peanut Butter Wolf is the founder of Stone Throw Records, a label that has released important works from three of the underground kings: Madlib, MF Doom, and the late Jay Dee. The hiphop label, which also has subdivisions that reissue rare grooves, has about it the seriousness of a research and development center. The producers who work for STR have grasped the science of funk, know the history of black American music, collect and reformulate jazz, soul, funk, reggae, and hiphop. Peanut Butter Wolf's mixes on the turntables are all about this understanding, all about exploring and deploying this specific branch of beat knowledge. CHARLES MUDEDE

SATURDAY 4/26

Jonathan Coulton, Paul and Storm

(Triple Door) Jonathan Coulton is a middle-aged white guy with a beard and glasses who used to work as a computer programmer and now works as a troubadour playing acoustic guitar and singing about zombies, American history, and math. He has written songs for The Daily Show. He was a Whiffenpoof at Yale. Sometimes, while he was on tour with writer John Hodgman, Coulton wore a hat with a raccoon tail. But Coulton is more than his funny, clever geek shtick—his dark, sad songs are profoundly dark and sad. Like "Shop Vac," about an unhappy marriage: "We hung a flag above the door/Checked out the gourmet grocery store/I bought a mower I can ride around the yard/But we haven't got real friends/And now even the fake ones have stopped calling./Maybe if you forget to hide the keys/I'll take a ride to Applebee's/Come home drunk on daiquiris and throw up on the neighbor's lawn." It's a hackneyed theme (a canker at the heart of the middle-class American dream), but notice how Coulton packs the weight of an entire tragedy into seven little words: "If you forget to hide the keys." Now that's what I'm talking about. BRENDAN KILEY

The Heavy Hearts, the Cute Lepers, Holy Name Dropouts

(High Dive) If the prevalence of wispy, navel-gazing folk is bumming your trip, you need to get your hands on A Killer of Snakes, the rockin' new full-length by local quartet the Heavy Hearts. The band's name may make them sound melancholic, but taken at face value it's truth in advertising—these guys (and gal) are heavy, and they've got heart. With its churning, bass-heavy, kinetic energy, A Killer of Snakes would've fit right in on AmRep or Touch & Go back in the glory days of the early '90s; thankfully it's being released right here, right now, right in time to clear the cobwebs out of your brain and rock your socks off. BARBARA MITCHELL

The Elephants, Over the Atlantic, PWRFL Power

(Comet) Perhaps it's the name, but the Elephants immediately bring to mind the quirky and adventurous pop of the Elephant 6 roster. Live sets find the four band members jumping from instrument to instrument, making the experience somewhat like a mixtape of someone's favorite idiosyncratic pop songs. My personal favorite tune is "Humans Extinct," which marries drum machines, fuzzed-out keyboards, and acoustic guitar with a surprisingly upbeat melody celebrating the end of humankind and the various baggage we've brought upon the world. Give it one listen and try to not sing along with the band as they celebrate "no more autobahn all crashing, no more day job or fax machine, no more hustling bustling lives—humans extinct, but the sun still shines." BRIAN COOK

The Circus Contraption Band, "Awesome", Buttrock Suites

(Neumo's) Over the last 10 years, the Circus Contraption band have survived marriages, breakups, addictions, one stubborn teetotaler, screaming matches, flatulence, six accordion players, massive egos, spandex pants, and seven band members sharing one eyeliner. Tonight, the versatile nine-piece celebrates the release of their new album, The Half-Wit's Descent, by playing their usual olio of klezmer, swing, polka, tango, waltz, and old bordello blues, plus a few quieter numbers. This album is for its own sake—not just as a soundtrack for Circus Contraption's well-loved cirque noir stage shows—and has given them the chance to explore their delicate side. BRENDAN KILEY

The Maldives, the Crying Shame, 17th Chapter

(Tractor) "Great, now there's a Jim James genre." Now sure when I overheard that at a bar, I had to laugh—someone in a band has a country jones and a slightly high register, and we have ourselves a tribute act? I guess Seattle's Maldives couldn't have loved Crazy Horse, the Band, and Gram Parsons before My Morning Jacket showed up. You're right, drunko. Jason Dodson and his band's near-decade in Seattle has been a sham, so let's dismiss their tasteful teeterings of psych and folk in their country- rock soup, not to mention their robust catalog of meandering woods-to-the-city ruminations. If there isn't a frat posse in the crowd, or unnecessary reverb on the mike, the Maldives may as well end their incredible run. SAM MACHKOVECH

Terrordactyls, the Oregon Donor, Slowly We Survive, Jubilee's Child

(Vera Project) All Terrordactyls shows should include a choir of second-graders who take turns singing backup vocals and dancing in circles with homemade masks and wands. There should be a craft table in the back with markers and glitter and glue where you can make your own CD cover to go with their records. There should be a cotton-candy machine. Everyone should bring a kazoo to help with the many kazoo solos. And if anyone is seen with a straight face or a frown at any point in time, they should be removed from the premises instantly. Or rolled in that glitter and glue. MEGAN SELING

SUNDAY 4/27

Lymbyc Systym, Head Like a Kite

(High Dive) Austin's Lymbyc Systym craft wonderful, wordless mazes of shoegaze marked by pretty chimes, mellow beats, and the occasional fantastic moment when all the simple layers come crashing together (listen to the song "Truth Skull" for a good example). The band boast the same well-mannered vibe as former tourmates the Album Leaf, whose Jimmy LaValle has done a remix of their song "Fall Bicycle." Head Like a Kiteís sound is brighter, faster, and features lyrics, but the local duo are just as electronically inclined. Their songs will make you work up a sweat, then Lymbyc Systym will ease your heart rate back to normal. MEGAN SELING

Lyrics Born

(Neumo's) Back in 1997, Lyrics Born, a Bay Area rapper, entered the rap game as one half of Latyrx (the other was Lateef the Truth Speaker). The album the duo released on SoleSides (a label that would become Quannum), The Album, is now a Left Coast classic. At the beginning of the '00s, Latyrx ceased and Lyrics Born began a successful solo career. Two of his CDs (Later That Day and Same !@#$ Different Day) were dropped by Quannum, and his third and latest, Everywhere at Once, by Epitaph. Lyrics Born's departure from the Quannum camp (Blackalicious, DJ Shadow) has had an impact on his music rather than his rap. His raps are still complicated and playful, but the music sounds less like experimental hiphop and more like hardcore funk. If Born goes any further in this funky direction, his music will not only break with Quannum but with all of hiphop. CHARLES MUDEDE

Indian Jewelry, Du Hexen Hase, Pyramids

(Sunset) I was pretty excited about this show on account of my enjoyment of the new eponymous album by Texas-based band Pyramids. I was interested to see how this mysterious group make such dense textural sounds and whether they would lean toward their shoegaze-inspired material or their more abrasive squalls of reverberating noise. But alas, I was mistaken. It winds up that I have not been privy to Seattle's duo of the same name. Our local Pyramids share a penchant for experimentation and abstraction, but, perhaps due to their stripped-down personnel, tend to lean toward more minimal arrangements than their Texas twins. Regardless, either version of Pyramids would make sense on a bill with equally ambitious and enigmatic acts Indian Jewelry and Du Hexen Hase. BRIAN COOK

MONDAY 4/28

Blood on the Wall, Coconut Coolouts, Eat Skull

(Chop Suey) Despite the band's affable sound, Coconut Coolouts are really like the James Brown of Seattle rock music—their name seems to pop up everywhere, and all the freakin' time. It's well deserved, then, that they get to share a bill with equally committed fuzz-rockers Blood on the Wall, whose new album, Liferz, is yet another slab of perfectly paired male-female vocals, driving guitar, lumbering bass, and no-bullshit, no-frills drumming. Both bands have a knack for mixing jaunty guitar riffs with just the right bass lines. Expect a fair amount of beer to get spilled all over Chop Suey's floor at this one. GRANT BRISSEY

Chinese, Elephant Kiss?, D Numbers, Centaur Hearts

(Funhouse) Centaur Hearts have one track posted up on their social networking site of choice, and it sounds like it was recorded inside a tin can inside a cat butt inside a cave during an earthquake using a toy microphone. Still, there's an undeniable full-speed-ahead charge buried somewhere in all that poorly compressed fuzz, and the fact that they consist of two-thirds of Teeth and Hair (but seem to have dropped that band's yelping shrieks) isn't a bad sign. D Numbers are an instrumental electro-acoustic trio from Santa Fe whose jams might aim for Battles' crypto-smurf rock but land somewhere a little more safely jazzy. Elephant Kiss? do bedroom geek raps about unicorns and bicycles to giddily glitchy electro noise. Chinese are a fast-driving guitar and drum duo. Should be a perfectly weird show. ERIC GRANDY

TUESDAY 4/29

Geologic, Kiwi

(Chop Suey) See My Philosophy.

Peter Moren

(Triple Door) See preview

Great American; Tyler Ramsey; Husbands, Love Your Wives

(Tractor) Tyler Ramsey is a folky singer/songwriter from Asheville, North Carolina. The songs on his new album, A Long Dream About Swimming Across the Sea, are simple, understated affairs—acoustic guitar bolstered by some unobtrusive rhythm or other accompaniment—that spotlight Ramsey's warm, worn, hushed singing. Given another week or two with this album, I could tell you whether or not it was worth a lasting listen, but for now I can guarantee that it's at least initially pleasant. The properly punctuated (if pesky for copy editors) Husbands, Love Your Wives is the solo project of Baskerville Hill denizen Jamie Spiess. Spiess's songs are often heavyhearted, but her voice is entirely weightless. ERIC GRANDY

WEDNESDAY 4/30

Cut Copy, Black Kids, Mobius Band

(Neumo's) See preview

Night Marchers, Muslims

(Chop Suey) You get the impression watching John Reis (aka Speedo, formerly of Drive Like Jehu, Rocket from the Crypt, and Hot Snakes, among others) that the dude will probably keep cranking out hard-driving, feedback-charged, raw-throated rock until the day he keels over dead. Like much of his post-Jehu work, Night Marchers eschew posthardcore artiness for straight, heavy riffs, mixing grinning, self-deprecating showmanship and banter with mean, scowling screaming. Fellow San Diego band Muslims are less amped up and abrasive, their brand of garage rock tending toward loose rhythms, hints of desert twang, and dry fuzz all sublimated for the sake of lead singer Matt Lamkin's damaged pop songs. ERIC GRANDY

Mad Rad, Party Time, Champagne Champagne

(Nectar) You may have recently seen the name Mad Rad, either in Run DMC's classic style or otherwise, oh, everyfuckingwhere. Give them this: Dudes' promotion game is tight. Tight enough to pack the main room at Chop Suey at a recent show full of hands-up hyped-up fans. Their tracks posted online don't sound like much, but these guys are game party starters live. If their lineage isn't evident from their neon apparel and raunch rhymes, their use of two Spank Rock jams—"Backyard Betty" to soundtrack an onstage dance battle, "Put That Pussy on Me" as a backing track for some rap—should clear things up. Openers Champagne Champagne feature Blood Bro Mark Gajadhar on production and the MC talents of a gentleman named Pearl Dragon. Party Time are, presumably, excellent. ERIC GRANDY