Formed in the early 1990s in Michigan/Seattle, the Spits are legendary to those who know who they are. But for those who don’t (what, you’ve never lost a front tooth at one of their shows?), their two-minute slices of scummy basement punk sound like the Ramones pummeling Devo with a Casio keyboard. They wear elaborate costumes. They have several self-titled albums. But most importantly, they don’t take themselves too seriously, which must be half the battle for staying fun for so long. (Chop Suey, 1325 E Madison St, chopsuey.com, 8 pm, $10, 21+)