Sic Alps, Puberty, Idle Times
(Funhouse) See preview.
Gold Panda, Dam Mantle
(Nectar) Whatever it is that makes electronic music lovable—warmth, wit, taste, grace, beauty, melody, drama, intelligence, chemistry—Gold Panda's debut release, Lucky Shiner, is rich with it. Upon a base of glitchy beats, the London DJ constructs an astonishingly attractive sonic world, where layers of rhythmic percussion (from free-jazz snare clatters to Steve Reich–ian mallet work) are laced with fetching melodies crafted from whatever: plucked piano strings, screaming jet engines, the squeaking frets of an acoustic guitar. After a run of shows at SXSW, Gold Panda brings the Lucky Shiner victory tour to Nectar, with opening support from Glasgow producer/DJ Dam Mantle. DAVID SCHMADER
Akron/Family, Delicate Steve
Randy Jones, Ctrl_Alt_Dlt, Phil Phresh
(Baltic Room) See Data Breaker.
The Intelligence, Orca Team, Le Sang Song
(Chop Suey) I used to get the Intelligence confused with many of Seattle's other "the" bands. Big mistake, especially since they effectively provide a cerebrally consistent live show, complete with keyboard antics, guitar shredding, and an occasional fall-to-your-knees solo. Leif Anders, the leader of Portland busybodies Orca Team, plays out all over the Northwest several days a week, every week. His fuzz-laden vocals and the band's surf-rock-tinged dream pop really work a room. I've been feeling Orca Team for a while, and any band that lists Lesley Gore as an influence is all right with me. Le Sang Song is the solo project and "quieter side" of Craig Chambers, guitarist/vocalist for the recently defunct, excellent group the Lights. AARON KEMPLEY
The Ganges River Band, Wagons, Jared Clifton
(Sunset) At first encounter, you might think that Wagons hailed from Memphis, Tennessee, and not Melbourne, Australia. There's a shit-kickin' swagger to the band's amped-up Americana that gives credence to the theory that twang is a universal accent. Scratch just a little deeper, though, and you'll hit a vein—in this case, a hearty dose of Nick Cave–ian apocalyptic soul mixed in with the wicked sense of humor that binds Aussies and Texans. If you were lucky enough to catch frontman Henry Wagons when he opened for Bobby Bare Jr. last September, you'll know the latter is also a hallmark of his onstage banter. Imagine John Roderick channeling Nick Cave fronting the Drive-By Truckers (with an Aussie accent), if you can... BARBARA MITCHELL
Frank Bretschneider, the Sight Below
(Baltic Room) See Data Breaker.
(Columbia City Theater) See My Philosophy.
Rotting Christ, Melechesh, Hate, Abigail Williams, Lecherous Nocturne, Somnae, Forest of Grey
(El Corazón) When I first heard the band name Rotting Christ, I pictured inverted crosses carved into foreheads, chalices of blood, and goat sacrifices. You know, just generally fucked-up shit. As it turns out, these days their name is the most outwardly shocking element of the R. Christ persona. No corpse paint and no murder scandals, just truly triumphant Greek metal, the kind of stuff you want playing as you go into battle against your mortal enemies. Openers Melechesh were one of the first black-metal bands to rise from the holy city of Jerusalem, deeming themselves "Mesopotamian Metal," ultimately evil metal with deep Middle Eastern influences. Show up early for some well-crafted melodic doom brought to you by Shoreline's Somnae. KEVIN DIERS
Spoils, ((Ayahuasca Travellers)), Magnog
(Comet) ((Ayahuasca Travellers)) peddle heavy, mystical psych-rock jams for people who ingest substances that are discussed in fascinating detail on Erowid.org. Through both direct and circuitous routes, their music turns your third eye pink. Back in the mid-'90s, Edmonds's Magnog were hugely promising upstarts on the legendary Kranky Records roster. Their self-titled debut album offered turbulently peaceful space rock that tipped a guitar pedal or three to sublime German tone masters like Mannuel Göttsching, Ax Genrich, and Achim Reichel. Magnog pretty much dropped off the grid after the 1997 double-disc collection of early demos More Weather, but now they're back, and I, for one, am excited to hear what these gnomic sonic sojourners have in store for us. DAVE SEGAL
Esben and the Witch, Julianna Barwick
(Sunset) Julianna Barwick sounds like sad aliens—or trippy whales. Born in Louisiana, based in Brooklyn, and putting out releases on Asthmatic Kitty Records, Barwick sings in long, glistening, gossamer notes and layers them until she's got a quilt—a quilt made of gossamer. Add the occasional bell and bit of percussion, name your gossamer-quilt-song collection The Magic Place—the title of her most recent record, which has a tree on its cover—and Shazam! you sound like a sad alien. Brighton, England's Esben and the Witch sound like equally melancholy but slightly more panicked aliens: gloomy synth chords and harmonies melting into each other and an urgency that Ms. Barwick doesn't feel. She's languid; Esben and the Witch are worried. But they're all sad aliens. BRENDAN KILEY
Rabbits, Vaz, Princess, Grenades
(Highline) See preview.
Magma Festival: Tit Pig, Witch Gardens, Partman Parthorse, Mountainss, Night Shirt, Man Rockwell, Pocket Panda, DJ Ingebling
Dialed: DJ Heather, DJ Mercedes, Ramiro
(Baltic Room) See Data Breaker.
The Grouch, Zion I
(Nectar) I know that Zion I are still very active, still dropping new science, still making fresh beats and productive collaborations (one of which was with the Grouch, who performs tonight with Zion I). The Bay Area duo (DJ AmpLive and MC Zumbi) are still not loving the police, still about the keeping the peace, still spreading the love, and still finding harmony within. Yes, Zion I are not stuck in the past. Nevertheless, it's impossible to separate this duo from that important moment in the late 1990s/early '00s that witnessed the emergence of hiphop's underground. The West Coast gave us crews like Lootpack, Planet Asia, and Rasco; the East Coast gave us Black Star, Company Flow, Aesop Rock, and Scienz of Life. To not see Zion I in the light of that vanishing world is to miss their essence, their reason for being here. CHARLES MUDEDE
Telekinesis, the Globes, Mal De Mer
(Crocodile) It could be that I'm reading the wrong music blogs or following the wrong people on Twitter, but weirdly it seemed like few people I know gave a shit about the new Telekinesis record, 12 Desperate Straight Lines, when it came out over a month ago. WHAT THE HELL, PEOPLE? You'll go on and on about how horrible Rebecca Black is but you won't take a minute to praise a local band for releasing a great pop album packed with hooks and bright choruses? Straight Lines is a required soundtrack for the oncoming spring, especially if you're the type of person who likes to strut around the city, beneath the blooming trees, pretending to be in a music video. (I can't be the only one.) So let me tell you what your friends are probably forgetting to tell you: Go buy the new Telekinesis record. Then see them tonight at the Crocodile and dance your ass off. Meanwhile, I gotta get some new friends. MEGAN SELING
Gatsbys American Dream, MxPx, Man Without Wax
(El Corazón) Tonight, prolific pop-punk band Gatsbys American Dream are playing their first Seattle show since 2007 (their official reunion was at this year's SXSW). They're not reuniting simply to relive the past for one night—although they have plenty of old material to revisit (they released four full-lengths and two EPs in the five years they were together)—Gatsbys also have been writing new music. Earlier this month, they released two new songs, "Modern Man" and "Untitled," via their website www.snickerattheswine.com, which prove that though half a decade has passed and many of the band's members have moved on to new projects (notably, Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground and Wild Orchid Children), they're still capable of picking up where they left off. Tonight's trip back in time also features a set by MxPx, who'll play their 1996 album Life in General in its entirety. Ah, high school. MEGAN SELING
Allen Karpinski, Chris Brokaw
(Porchlight Coffee) You can love the acoustic guitar without having to ride the current wave of indie Americana. Take California record label Vin Du Select Qualitite, for instance. It focuses on the kind of eccentric guitar-centered fare labels like Takoma used to release. But rather than just reissue old John Fahey albums, it's tapped notable contemporary musicians like Thurston Moore and Emeralds' Mark McGuire to record limited-edition LPs using only an acoustic guitar. Tonight's show is a record release for volume six in the series, brought to you by Allen Karpinski of the Six Parts Seven. Karpinski's album is a combination of graceful fingerpicking and dark expanses of ambient hums, making it at turns sentimental and meditative. Fellow series contributor Chris Brokaw (Codeine, Come, the New Year) also performs. BRIAN COOK
Toro Y Moi, Cloud Nothings, Braids
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.
Wild Orchid Children, Orbs, Strong Killings, Gladiators Eat Fire
(El Corazón) See Underage.
Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso UFO, Shilpa Ray and Her Happy Hookers
(Chop Suey) Acid Mothers Temple—guitarist Kawabata Makoto's seasoned crew of Japanese astral travelers—are prolific tour beasts who generate noise-rock infernos as casually as you munch pot brownies. While comfortable in apocalyptic chaos, AMT also thrive in mellower modes, slipping into dewy troubadour ballads and mellifluous space-rock fantasias when the strain of making their instruments roar like SSTs becomes too arduous. But most fans come to AMT gigs to revel in the group's MC5/High Rise–like combustibility, and you will likely leave Chop Suey tonight with synapses properly singed. DAVE SEGAL
Liam Finn, the Luyas, Red Jacket Mine
(Crocodile) Cute as buttons! All of 'em. But especially the Luyas, a Montreal-based band whose cute quotient is nearly overwhelming. They have a cute lady singer who plays (among other instruments) the Moodswinger, a 12-string electric zither designed by a "Dutch experimental luthier" named Yuri. Not enough cute for you? McSweeney's ran a profile of them last year, featuring a scene in which the Luyas blindfolded 20 of their fans and led them, via rope, to a practice space where they played a very intimate concert. The Luyas also employ French horns and sometimes violin to create their relaxed, removed indie pop. They sound like what a curator of a small art gallery in Austin might play as early evening background music while hosting a small party for friends. (Later, once they're all lit up, they'll break out the Creedence.) Australia's Liam Finn has also had instruments made for him by the Dutch experimental luthier named Yuri. He and Red Jacket Mine play warm, limpid country indie rock. If Finn, the Luyas, and Red Jacket Mine were all in an extended family together, and had family photos of themselves on a mantel somewhere, they would all be in the front rows smiling while members of Okkervil River lurked in the background, looking like surly and slightly drunk cousins. BRENDAN KILEY