Shoegaze rock can be too airy, effete, and precious for its own good. Brooklyn's A Place to Bury Strangers counteract that tendency with mushroom clouds of caustically fuzzy noise that draws on the Jesus and Mary Chain's Psychocandy and the more overdriven moments of My Bloody Valentine's catalog. Their sound is more clamorous than glamorous, but A Place to Bury Strangers don't totally jettison melodies. They just bury them deep in the maelstrom, where their moody contours seem even more alluring. (Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave, www.thecrocodile.com. 8 pm, $10, 21+.)