Listings

1 p.m.

The Gits (Movie)
In 1993, Mia Zapata was a singer with a voice like honey-covered nails, fronting a punk band on the verge of stardom and serving as de facto den mother to the Seattle music scene. Then, for no reason, she was dead: raped and murdered walking home from an evening with friends at a local bar. Her killing became a cold case, and the inspiration for Home Alive, a women's self-defense training organization. Ten years after the crime, just as DNA evidence led to a breakthrough in the case, director Kerri O'Kane began to chronicle the reverberations of Zapata's band, the Gits, on Seattle, girl power and grunge. (AWM). Mission Theater.

5 p.m.

Blue Horns
[JANGLE ROCK] Following in the lineage of former Best New Band the Shaky Hands, local jangle-rockers Blue Horns bridge the gap between the airy and toe-tapping college rock that dominated college radio in the '80s (think Reckoning-era R.E.M.) and the angular post-punk of Wire. And when frontman Brian Park makes a call to "start dancing," well, it's almost impossible to resist. (MM). Rontoms.

5:30 p.m.

[SOUL MAN] These days they call peculiar pop rock "indie rock," and Britt Daniel's band, Spoon—like Pavement in the "alternative" era and the Pixies when it was "college rock"—will probably go down as the genre's most important and complete outfit. This is due in no small part to its frontman, who hip-shakes like Elvis and emotes like Marvin Gaye. In solo performances, Daniel is slightly more reserved, but the soul remains. And it has been a while since Spoon's last album, so it's probably safe to expect a new song or two. (CJ).

Team Evil
[ART ROCK] Featuring members of some of Portland's finest local rock troupes, (including Point Juncture, WA member/superproducer Skyler Norwood), Team Evil makes minimal, looping guitar rock that sounds like Akron/Family if that group recorded a post-rock record of Tortoise covers. (MM). Rontoms.

6 p.m.

Dakota Slim
[KITCHEN-SINK FOLK] Taking two disparate sources (folk music and skittering, cheap electronics) and making something quite beautiful out of the mess, ex-Portlander Travis Keats Ross' kitchen-sink folk balances the organic and the chaotic—while never sounding self-absorbed or too much like Mellow Gold-era Beck in the process. (MM). Rontoms.

6:30 p.m.

The Skinnyz
[GARAGE CHIC] The members are, as it happens, slight of stature, but don't confuse the Skinnyz' slim-trousered appeal for self-satisfied hipsterdom. Forming at the University of Oregon amid a shared love of all stages of rock, the boys' just-released Bladen County Records debut, UP!, swaggers with a propulsive, unvarnished, well-fed groove. (JH). Rontoms.

7 p.m.

The Rainy States
[GUITAR POP] Trafficking in the gorgeous guitar pop that's dominated the Northwest since the mid-'90s, local quartet the Rainy States play melodic, ringing tunes, full of intertwining guitar lines, a classic R&B stomp, and frontwoman Betsy Johnson's rich and inviting voice. In a set full of caricatures, this band is the real thing. (MM). Backspace.

Invisible Rockets
[VINTAGE ROCK] Invisible Rockets play freewheeling guitar rock laced with sunny oldies pop melodies and '70s stoner-rawk instrumental jams alike. Ladyhawk and Dr. Dog comparisons come easy—which is no shabby company. And singer Sean Flinn distinguishes the band with his occasionally Bowie-esque, drama-rich voice. (AGM). Rontoms.

Colt Vista
[INSTRUMENTAL MATH ROCK] This year's MusicfestNW has turned out to be a fine celebration for fans of instrumental rock, and Portland's own Colt Vista waves that flag pretty dang well. (CJ). Satyricon.

Built to Spill
[GUITAR ROCK] Boise-based indie-rock icons Built to Spill take their sweet time releasing albums, but softspoken frontman Doug Martsch seems nothing if not patient—and such epic, stoney guitar rock probably takes as much time to create as it does to enjoy. And what a sweet payoff it is. (AGM) Wonder Ballroom: Nike.

7:30 p.m.

Little Pieces
[INDIE POWER-POP] After recent move to Seattle, Herman Jolly—frontman of late and lamented Sunset Valley—formed a new project with Grant Badger and Rob Lloyd of Guitar Defamation League. As a vehicle for Jolly's gorgeous tunes and strangely compelling voice, Little Pieces' stripped-down jangle-punk/power-pop mix rivals the Soft Boys. (JH). Rontoms.

8 p.m.

TK Webb & the Visions
[POUNDING PAVEMENT] Presuming the Fall's Mark E. Smith is the spiritual father to Stephen Malkmus, consider Thomas Kelly Webb the restless grandchild. TK Webb & the Visions spin a propulsive take on the bluesier tinge of college radio (think the White Stripes with John Bonham sitting in for Meg) that blends Brooklynite sheen with Webb's Midwestern grit. (JH). Ash Street.

Southern Belle
[SNAP CRACKLE POP] This ridiculously young, gritty Portland quartet is wise beyond its years. Catchy hooks are delivered alongside the double-tracked vocals of keyboardist Austin Jackson and bassist Nicole Perry, though it's singer-guitarist Ross McLeron that is Southern Belle's heart. The group's versatile sound ranges from synth-pop to straightforward rock and roll. The band's promising full-length debut, Hurry Up and Thrill Me, is slated for a late-summer release. (WH). Backspace.

Rapids
[METAL-TINGED RAWK] Local boys Rapids—former members of the Merrick Foundation, Wadsworth and Slowhawk recently joined by local legend Sean Croghan (Crackerbash, Jr. High) on vocals—rip chaotic Midwestern rawk, heavy but sugared by bouts of tunefulness, that suggests Hüsker Dü with a healthy dose of Deerhoof's melodic avant-noise. (JH). Dante's.

Micah Blue Smaldone
[OLD-SOUL FOLK] Other-coast Portlander Micah Blue Smaldone rocks (er, folks) a deep, full baritone more reminiscent of a classic '60s acoustic crooner than an art-damaged freak-folkie of today. Sure-fingered picking, plainspoken lyrics, and timeless-sounding melodies add up to a promising singer-songwriter in the classic mold. (JR). Doug Fir.

Gray Matters
[CRANIAL LINGUISTS] Try telling The End (a.k.a. Mr. Mr.) and his tag-team partner-in-grime Introspective that hip-hop is dead and you could risk death by mic-cord strangulation. The bouncy, bravado-rich duo make up Gray Matters, a lethal pair of intensely lyrical local MCs who, if they have anything to do with it, will maintain the culture's heartbeat for years to come. (SM). Hawthorne Theatre.

Joshua Morrison
[POP VETERAN] Joshua Morrison may have initially received attention as a songwriting veteran of the Iraq war, but if the spotlight stays on him it's because he's one hell of a singer-songwriter. With acoustic guitar in hand, Morrison leans more toward relationship lyrics than war stories, melding dark emotional honesty with a subtle pop craftsmanship that lingers in listeners' heads more like a question mark than an exclamation point. (CJ). Holocene.

Autopilot Is for Lovers
[CIRCUS FOLK] If a transported turn-of-the-century circus had a house band, Portland boy-girl duo Autopilot Is for Lovers might just be it. The vaudevillian sound of Adrienne Hatkin's throaty, warbling voice perfectly complements her twangy banjo. Bandmate Paul Seely's crafty percussion creates an exotic sound uncommon to Portland's indie rock-saturated music scene. (WH). Rontoms.

Stauffer
[MYSTERY JAMS] Aaron Stauffer of Seaweed has played around, oh, two solo shows as Stauffer. And, in a throwback move, he's keeping the project largely unavailable via the Net. "It's more like a one-man band than a solo project," he says of the group, adding that Seaweed fans "will probably like it." Nothing like a little mystery to spice up your MusicfestNW. (CJ). Rotture.

White Fang
[WYLD STALLYNS] The kids behind White Fang are limitlessly eclectic music fans well-connected within Portland's experimental-music community. Still, every world beat, psychedelic, noise influence White Fang swallows gets barfed up in a gnarly punk-rock fury onstage. Those looking to relive high-school angst need look no further. (CJ). Satyricon.

Tractor Operator
[SOMBER SONGWRITER] The voice of Eric Jensen, a.k.a. Tractor Operator, is equal parts kind and weary. Which is why when he sings of subjects like "sarcastic trend-setting fuckers" and "crazy guy(s) outside," it sounds more like he's commiserating than dogging on 'em. (AGM). Someday Lounge .

8:30 p.m.

Lackthereof
[EXPERIMENTAL POP] Danny Seim, drummer-vocalist for well-loved Portland art-rock outfit Menomena, doesn't play out a lot as Lackthereof. But with an impressive, layered new album to support (Your Anchor, out now on Seattle's Barsuk label), the experimental pop songsmith is coming out of his shell for a rare appearance at this year's fest. (CJ). Crystal Ballroom.

Kurt Hagardorn
[YESTERYEAR POP] Chapel Hill, N.C.-to-PDX transplant Kurt Hagardorn is the quintessence of classic American pop music. His album Ten Singles melds the sunny, easygoing charm of the Beach Boys, the Beatles and '70s country. Live, Hagardorn effortlessly owns the stage, backed by an amazing band that is as much a blast from the past as Hagardorn himself. (BS). Rontoms.

9 p.m.

Graveyard
[PSYCH ROCK] Sweden's Graveyard says via MySpace that its influences "should be fairly obvious." By that they mean Neil Young. But Graveyard throws a healthy dose of Hendrixy blues and MC5 rock fury into the mix. And when's the last time you heard a bad band out of Sweden? (CJ). Ash Street.

Typhoon
[WUNDERKINDS] Typhoon is Portland's future. The band's balanced blend of strings, horns, drums and too many guitars to count make the 10-plus-member hodgepodge of early twentysomethings as much fun to watch as to listen to. Led by Kyle Morton's sincere, refined storytelling, Typhoon gives a mind-numbing live performance that leaves you wondering how such a large group of people produce that tight, raw, powerful sound. (WH). Backspace.

Nick Jaina
[SMART FOLK-POP] Portland-via-N'awlins songwriter Nick Jaina plays off-kilter pop that ranges from dark, Lou Reed-ish brooding to boisterous horn- and string-embellished fare, both of which showcase his busker roots. His piano and guitar skills are equally impressive, as are his dry-witted lyrics—and Jaina often leads a big band of local folk-pop notables (mostly Hush Records compadres). (AGM). Berbati's.

The Muslims
[GARAGE ROCK] Judging by name alone, you might think the Muslims to be a screaming crust-punk outfit. You'd be wrong. These Los Angeles boys play melodic garage pop, and while Iggy Pop and the Sonics seem like possible points of inspiration, we'd be remiss not to say that the Muslims remind us of everything we still like about the Strokes. (CJ). Dante's.

Laura Gibson
[FOLK FOR SOOTHING WOODLAND CREATURES] Bits of Laura Gibson's backstory sum up her music wonderfully. Her first album was based on her grandparents' love letters. She plays at nursing homes. Then there's the lovely, aching voice with which she sings her bare (with regard to both arrangement and content), cloudy folk songs—that sums her up pretty well, too. (BS). Doug Fir.

The Whips and the Whales
[NU-NUGGETS] Portland quartet the Whips and the Whales apparently time-traveled back to 1966 to record its psychedelic garage-punk in the same studio where the Kingsmen cut "Louie Louie." After fast-talking their way into a quick set opening for the Electric Prunes at the Crystal, the boys squeezed back into a suspicious, blue phone booth and reappeared four decades later, dirty grooves intact. (JR). East End.

Living Proof
[SMOOTH HIP-HOP] As the fourth or fifth generation of PDX hip-hop artists begins the transition from individual groups into a fully realized "scene," Living Proof is one reason to pay attention. Mixing smooth, organic flows about appreciating life's bounty and bangers elevating the status of the duo's native Northwest, LP is one of PDX hip-hop's brighter stars. (CJ). Hawthorne Theatre.

Dyme Def
[EMERALD-CITY BEATS] Seattle's hip-hop scene has been fruitful as of late, and it's not all because of political, feel-good rappers. Dyme Def is on the other side of the hip-hop coin: Four MCs flipping smart street stories and plenty of profanity over some of the most courageous beats currently bouncing out of the Northwest. Tons of potential for national success here. (CJ). Holocene.

DJ Santo
[FANTASTIC VOYAGE] A P-Town staple since 2005, DJ Santo streams Something Different, his show on KMHD 89.1 FM, every Sunday, and spins around town carrying crates thick with global drum rhythms and groove theories from people like Sergio Mendes, Esperanza Spalding and Jackson Conti—plus tons of stuff you've never heard of. (SM). Jimmy Mak's.

The Love Language
[GARAGE POP] If Hüsker Dü frontman Bob Mould had any sway in the direction of indie pop these days, he'd probably recommend something like the Love Language. Hailing from the unsung burg of Wilmington, N.C. (or "Lumberton" in Blue Velvet), the septet plays discernibly smart and soulful pop songs that have obviously been scratched with fuzz, gain, distortion and whatever else happens to piss off the neighbors. (CF). Rontoms.

Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson
[LAYERED FOLK] You can't always get by on the wings of your famous friends, but it's obvious Brooklyn-via-Oregon singer-songwriter Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson hangs out in the right circle. Grizzly Bear's Chris Taylor and Daniel Rosen and TV on the Radio's Kyp Malone all assisted with MBAR's debut record, which is speckled with pretty atmospherics and bookish lyrics—but when he rips away on his Strat, he's more Robbie Robertson than ethereal folky. (MM). Roseland.

Sunday Night Blackout
[BUTT ROCK] Chock-full of neck-snapping guitar solos, frantic drums and barely a hint of irony, Seattle's biggest purveyors of classic, AC/DC-inspired riffage play butt rock for the hipster generation—kind of like if the Darkness were into shotgunning Sparks instead of doing lines of coke. Who needs Chinese Democracy when the local stuff is this, well, kicking? (MM). Rotture.

Eat Skull
[GARAGE ROCK] It seems any project Rob Enbom gets involved with will be greeted with success: first with his former group, the Hospitals, and now with his latest outfit, the Portland-based noise-pop outfit Eat Skull. Even MTV has taken interest in the group's lo-fi, fuzzy garage sound. Don't worry about the band turning into a mainstream pop-punk darling anytime soon, though—its live shows generally create enough chaos to make any venue owner rightfully anxious. (DC). Satyricon.

Gratitillium
[PSYCH FOLK] This big band brings in an array of folk instruments to weave a psychedelic tapestry of sound. This is pure psych folk, complete with odes to animals and mythological creatures. Trippy tones waft in pastel sheets behind basic structures composed of banjo, guitar strums, hand percussion and harmonized vocals. (NC). Slabtown.

The Valiant Arms
[RETRO POP] When a man—in this case, the Valiant Arms' Rob Jones—runs a label with impeccable taste—in this case, Portland's Jealous Butcher, home to fellow MFNW act Tractor Operator (also TVA's drummer) and vinyl releases by Colin Meloy and M. Ward—you come to trust him. And TVA doesn't disappoint, recalling '90s college radio pop à la Superchunk and the Pixies, complete with a rad female bassist-vocalist (in this case, area illustrator Diane Rios)! (AGM) Someday Lounge.

The Old Believers
[FOLK POP] Sometimes you hear a voice so simple and beautiful it stops you dead in your tracks and makes the world outside completely irrelevant. Most groups would be more than lucky to have one; the old Believers have two. Young Alaskan transplants Keeley Boyle and Nelson Kempf sing rustic folk-pop songs that are wise beyond their years, sounding like Neko Case and M. Ward before they hit legal drinking age. (MM). Towne Lounge.

9:30 p.m.

John Vanderslice
[FANCY POP] There are few, if any, albums that sound like those of San Fran production wizard John Vanderslice (the man once wrote a love song to his four-track, for chrissakes). But, besides having an uncanny knack for recording absolutely perfect, crisp-with-detail, so-damn-textured-your-ears-can-feel it highbrow pop, Vanderslice is also a brilliant lyricist, and penner of the most honest, earnest 9/11 song ever: "Exodus Damage." (AGM). Crystal Ballroom.

10 p.m.

Akimbo
[HARDCORE] Seattle hardcore screamo band turned metal juggernaut. These three rockers still scream, but now they also groove and pound to massive riffage—with occasional forays into melodic lead sections, as well. This is what Helmet might sound like if you cut off six of Page Hamilton's fingers. Jello Biafra and Neurosis are avowed fans. (NC). Ash Street.

BEST FWENDS
[SPAZZCORE] Inspired equally by dorky video games and a swift Red Bull adrenaline rush, Texas duo Best Fwends (pronounced, appropriately, like a little kid with a lisp) makes short, tongue-in-cheek songs crammed with crunchy guitars and silly keyboards. Singing live over an iPod, user participation is required, but don't worry—you'll know the words before someone can say "American Apparel." (MM). Backspace.

Portugal The Man
[PROG INDIE] Portugal The Man seems straightforwardly strange—from its name (which originally required a period after Portugal) to its first, Blood Brothers-esque album, songs from which were so complicated that the band occasionally had trouble playing them (according to one of their engineers, at least). So how much of PTM is authentically strange and how much is weird for weird's sake? Dunno, but it rocks pretty hard. (BS). Berbati's.

Colour Revolt
[YANKS GO RADIOHEAD] These Mississippi boys cook up a dark, swirling stew—a mesmerizing, literate art-house movie for the ears that brings you-know-who to mind but goes for a denser, more epic sweep than Mr. Yorke and company dare. Themes are as emotionally heavy as the Sonics', and the frankly nightmarish cover art for the band's new album, Plunder, Beg, and Curse, drives the darkness home. (RC). Dante's.

Dolorean
[PAINFUL POP] Man, a broken heart takes a long time to heal. And a great band can sometimes take an awful long time to get the recognition it deserves. Dolorean has presumably learned both lesssons well, as the Portland-based outfit's stellar latest album, You Can't Win, is a heartbreaker of epic proportions that never really blew up the way it should have. On one hand, that's a shame. On the other hand, it ought to inspire a hell of a new record! (CJ). Doug Fir.

The Bugs
[FUN PUNK] The Bugs may well be the catchiest punk/garage band in Portland. Songs will be stuck in your head. Guaranteed. (CJ). East End.

Sandpeople
[BIG HIP-HOP] We've been talking about Sandpeople as Portland hip-hop's next big thing for a few years, but the future arrived earlier this year when the massive crew released its mission statement, Honest Racket. One could cull a handful of meanings from the album's title, and things only get more dense from there—especially as beatsmiths Simple and Sapient improve on their already stellar future beats and latest addition Illmaculate adds verbal spice to the Sandpeep recipe. (CJ). Hawthorne Theatre.

Pwrfl Power
[GUITAR VIRTUOSO] Seattle-via-Japan singer-songwriter Kazutaka Nomura is more than a mere songsmith—he's also a classically trained, fire-breathing axman as capable of laying down a sick Fahey-lite solo as a jazzy chord progression. His songs are just as good and even more fun, full of semi-ridiculous lyrics about girls, love and chopsticks. (MM). Holocene.

Trio Subtonic
[FUNKY JAZZ] In the spirit of Medeski, Martin & Wood, Trio Subtonic's Galen Clark, Jesse Brooke and Bill Athens almost always manage to inject a healthy dose of funk into their jazz experiments. The Portland trio's style also has a diverse range—drawing from influences as diverse as Brazilian traditional rhythms and the turntablist wizardry of DJ Papercuts. (LK). Jimmy Mak's.

Anders Parker
[AMERICANA] Anders Parker, also known as bearded frontman to alt-country outfit Varnaline and collaborator with Jay Farrar in Gob Iron, plays a brand of Americana that ranges from distortion-heavy Neil Young-ish guitar rock to gentler singer-songwriter fare made lofty thanks to Parker's clear, pleasant vocals and down-home accoutrements like twanged-up lap-steel guitar. (AGM). Rontoms.

Jaguar Love
[WILD POP] These ex-members of Pretty Girls Make Graves and the Blood Brothers make a very current kind of crooning pop music. The band leverages all sorts of criminally '80s inspirations, and brings thoroughly modern sensibilities to their vocal-driven act (think TV on the Radio covering Culture Club). (NC). Roseland.

Black Whales
[THE CLASSIC ROCK] It's a little surprising that Seattle garage-pop band Black Whales doesn't have a definite article stuck in front of its band name, because its sound—a shuffling, melodically challenging take on vintage garage rock—resembles a handful of bands that do: the Kinks and the Who, for example. (MM). Rotture.

Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death
[LO-FI ROCK] Spencer Moody loves long band names. His old group was called the Murder City Devils. His current act is called Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death. The band performs drifting lo-fi rock from its "lost" album, Drunk on the Blood of the Saints and Martyrs, which wallows in static, sonic debris and simplicity. (NC). Satriycon.

Super XX Man
[GENTLE FOLK POP] Super XX Man's Scott Garred has the remarkable ability to load simple, everyday details—like phone numbers and coastal rocks—with poignant meaning. Ably aided by wife Michelle on piano and accordion, and the heavenly voiced Ali Wesley on percussion, the band's upcoming album is built on characters inspired by Garred's career as a music therapist at Oregon State Hospital. (AGM). Slabtown.

Kelly Blair Bauman[INDIE AMERICANA] It's easy to label Kelly Blair Bauman alt-country. His twangy ballads are laced with backcountry bass lines, harmonica and the requisite drinking and longing. It's not an inaccurate genre tag, but it misses the nuances of Bauman's alternatingly somber and upbeat offerings. When Bauman ventures into late-'60s classic-rock stylings—as he often does—he lands firmly in his own unique Americana. (AK). Someday Lounge.

Andy Combs and the Moth
[CREEPY POP] Everyone knows someone who is overly gifted—the kind of person who can pick up any instrument and start playing it. Portland's Andy Combs is one of those people. When performing live, he brings in the help of additional musicians, but on his record almost every element of his eclectic sound is credited to Combs alone, from guitar and banjo to keyboards and mandolin. The music is sorta like Tom Waits fronting Ugly Casanova. (DC). Towne Lounge.

10:30 p.m.

Vampire Weekend
See spotlight. Crystal Ballroom.

11 p.m.

Danava
[STONER METAL] Lions and tigers and bad facial hair, oh my! Local skuz-rock band Danava plays unadulterated stoner metal—the type you can imagine as the soundtrack to a low-budget fantasy epic or the South Park episode where the boys get high from sniffing cat urine. It's all smashing drums and heavy riffage, so what are you waiting for? Let your hair down and just feel the music, man. (MM). Ash Street.

Matt and Kim
[TRENDY PUNKERS] This Brooklyn duo, a little bit punk and a little bit dance, certainly knows how to move a crowd. They tap into the trend of melding lo-fi electronic music with punk energy, with melodies coming from a sparse keyboard-drum kit arrangement while Matt's screamed-sung vocals provide a layer of texture to the tunes. (JW). Backspace.

Alela Diane
[FOREST FOLK] Some voices you can take lightly. Alela Diane's is not one of them. A pure weapon of uncommon beauty, Diane's voice—and the warm, nature-centric songs that accompany it—will stop you dead in your tracks. Noisy bar patrons, take this to heart: Your full attention is required for this one. (MM). Berbati's.

These Arms Are Snakes
[POST-HARDCORE] Seattle's These Arms Are Snakes is in a way part of a dying breed: post-hardcore that's actually pretty hardcore. With a musical DNA straight out of vintage D.C. Dischord and a pedigree that includes Botch and Nineironspitfire, TAAS's particular blend of agitated complexity doesn't break the mold, preferring to extend it as far as the band's name implies. (EB). Dante's.

Death Vessel
[PORCH JAMBOREE INDIE] With a name like this, you'd expect some pulverizing eff-you noise. But since singer-frontman Joel Thibodeau's got his head in the string-pluckin' (bluegrass and otherwise) weeds, we get gorgeously down-homey indie constructions like "Deep in the Horchata" instead. They deserve a larger audience like Dubya deserves impeachment proceedings—the day before yesterday. (RC). Doug Fir.

Hey Lover
[ADORABLE PUNK] Cute, sad, fun: Make no mistake, Portland's Hey Lover is definitely an indie-pop duo. Clever vocals yelped over strummed guitars and snappy drums, Hey Lover merges the jangle of folk with the jitter of punk, wearing its heart on a vintage T-shirt sleeve. (EB). East End.

Jedi Mind Tricks See spotlight.
Hawthorne Theatre.

Truckasauras
[8-BIT BRO-DOWN] Video games aren't just for zoning out to. This Seattle-based group creates wild mid-tempo electronica by harnessing sounds from game consoles, then squeezing them into songs (with additional beats, of course). One can assume that the trio—which partially controls its frenzied live shows via a modified Nintendo Game Boy—conserves its energy during off hours with marathon sessions of Dr. Mario. (NMC). Holocene.

Velella Velella
[FUTURE SEX] Try to resist. Within seconds, Seattle quartet Velella Velella will have asses moving with its sexy-as-hell dance grooves. This band is a grab bag of sly beats, soul, porno-funk, deep bass pulsations and cyber-erotic space-outs paired with ample robot noises. Resistance is futile, and will be met with undulation and tingly naughty bits. (AK). Jimmy Mak's.

Mommyheads
[WHIMSY-CORE] After a string of innovative quirk-pop albums (1989 debut Acorn was released while frontman-guitarist Adam Elk was still in an NYC high school), the Mommyheads disbanded a decade ago with Elk attempting a solo career and a stint as a commercial soundtrack artist, but, after a decade's rest, the power trio has returned for a handful of gigs supporting a (mostly) new album—they'll show a new generation where Fountains of Wayne learned its tricks. (JH). Rontoms.

Swim Swam Swum
[CRUNK ROCK] Self-described as a fight with a bass and guitar against a drum set, SSS is a hurricane of well-trained distortion and garage-rock percussion. It's youthful Built to Spill on the surface, but Matt Taylor's helium-tinged vocals suspend the group at a thinner-aired, more impulsive altitude. (MS). Rotture.

Old Time Relijun
[JAMES CHANCE PRIMAL] God bless Old Time Relijun frontman Arrington de Dionyso for carrying Captain Beefheart's beardo torch into the 21st century. OTR makes genuinely scary, rhythmically raw music that grunts and groans, and in the past few years, the inclusion of scorched-earth sax has moved the group into post-punk/no-wave territory. (RC). Satyricon.

Finn Riggins
[GENRE-HOPPING ROCK] Idaho three-piece Finn Riggins are closeted ska fans. Don't take that as a bad omen, though; instead of taking the cloying, repetitive revival hits of the '90s to heart (cough, Goldfinger, cough), they revel in the type of genre-hopping that can only bring a smile to your face—a little Pixies-ish noise here, some crunchy synths there—and manage to make something unique from the debris. (MM). Slabtown.

Kaia
[ACOUSTIC SINGER-SONGWRITER] As the former leader of queer-core punk legends Team Dresch and her own poppier spinoff, the Butchies, Portland's Kaia Wilson has written some of the most blistering punk records of the past two decades. Her work as a solo wanderer, however, is of a quieter variety. All hushed acoustic guitars and plaintive vocals, this spring's godmakesmonkeys ranks among her best work—and though it's just the sound of one guitar and one voice, it doesn't make the songs any less engaging. (MM). Someday Lounge.

World's Greatest Ghosts
[SYNTH ROCK] Sounding something like a more hyperactive Wolf Parade covering New Order in a sweaty basement, World's Greatest Ghosts is the city's biggest purveyor of anthemic, synth-laden rock songs—full of vintage Moogs, killer hooks and shouted choruses. It's not all idol worship, either—new jams like the spastic "On the Shore" will leave you humming the band's own tunes for days. (MM). Towne Lounge.

11:30 p.m.

TV On The Radio
See spotlight. Roseland.

Midnight

Witchcraft
[RETRO ROCK] "More Pentagram than Pentagram" seems to be the collective motto of these retro Swedish rockers. The group's sound is absolutely drenched in early-'70s hard-rock vibes. Zeppelin, early Scorpions and plenty of psychedelic fuzz are woven into a pleasant tapestry that would be nice to look at for hours—especially if you smoke out first. (NC). Ash Street.

Langhorne Slim
[NU-ROOTS] With his adenoidal exclamations and three-piece acousti-combo, bicoastal (NYC/L.A.) folk-bluesman Langhorne Slim comes across like a less-Violent Femmes. A favorite at the past two Pickathon fests, Slim's low-key but high-intensity performance mojo—banging a flat-top box while wailing on harp and shaking a leg—updates that dusty, snake-oil, road-show vibe for the New Depression. (JR). Berbati's Pan.

The Night Marchers
See spotlight. Dante's.

Crooked Fingers
See spotlight. Dour Fir.

Cafeteria Dance Fever
[MARBLE MADNESS] You could say Cafeteria Dance Fever lost its collective marbles—but that implies the local outfit had them to begin with. The Fever is infectious—fast and furious punkishness that bounces random sounds and jokes around the garage like a lunatic in a rubber room. The maniacal boy-girl harmonies sound like bizarro Osmond duets, creating a playfully nuts synapse assault. (AK). East End.

Throw Me The Statue
[LO-FI POP] Throw Me the Statue mastermind Scott Reitherman takes his songs straight out of the journal and onto the stage. The Seattleite's wordy, confessional musings make for delicious electronic-leaning indie pop, especially when flanked onstage by one of the better backing bands. (NMC). Holocene.

Rupa and the April Fishes
[GYPSY] For all the bands that have appropriated gypsy music over the past few years (Beirut, Gogol Bordello, DeVotchKa), it's refreshing to receive a healthy dose of the real thing. Rupa and the April Fishes (named after the term for "April Fools" en Français) is a large ensemble that blends languages and world musics to form one globe-trotting hootenanny of a good time. (MM). Jimmy Mak's.

Oh Captain, My Captain
[POET ROCK] Once a Kinks-loving '60s guitar band, local rockers (and Walt Whitman fans) Oh Captain, My Captain have apparently moved to the sweeter end of the sonic spectrum—employing more subtle instrumentation (saw and strings) and the Brit-pop-worthy vocals of frontman Jesse Bettis. They've got some chops, too. (MM). Rontoms.

Hockey
[DISCO REDUX] Hockey's "Too Late" is the kind of track even those with crutches try to jump about to. Like the band, it's instinctive, propelling and surprisingly smooth. And it feels like a steal to see the cake-fed New Wavers completely take over a venue. (MS). Rotture.

Monotonix
[GOLDEN OLDIES GONE PUNK] Monotonix hails from Tel Aviv, but the trio's sound is an enjoyable if familiar hodgepodge of U.S.-U.K. classic-rawk touchstones: the Sonics' driving fury, the Smashing Pumpkins at their noisiest, Hendrix en flagrante, et al. Body Language, the band's excellent debut EP, clocks in at an uncannily perfect length of 24 minutes—always leave 'em wanting more by not offering quite enough. If Monotonix is smart, this set will seem to end before it has even begun. (RC). Satyricon.

Jared Mees & the Grown Children
[SINGALONG INDIE POP] In an industry populated by songwriters content to rhyme "girl" and "world" for the zillionth time, the appearance of a complex lyricist like Jared Mees seems doubly amazing. Factor in his great ear for melody and catchy hooks, and Mees becomes amazing cubed. He gets compared to some of the biggest names in indie rock (Oberst, Malkmus and Darnielle), but he's very clearly going in his own direction. (BS). Slabtown.

Wow & Flutter
[ALT-ROCK] Once a lush slo-core band, local three-piece Wow & Flutter has since trimmed its lineup down to bare bones, relying on chunky hooks more than shimmering atmospherics, but the songs don't suffer because of it. Rocking material for an upcoming album, the band—named after the Stereolab song—definitely has something to prove. (MM). Someday Lounge.

BOAT
[SLOPPY POP] Seattle's BOAT is quite possibly the funnest band ever. Frontman D. Crane sings of childhood sorrows and joys with all the vocal playfulness of a tape being devoured by your first Walkman. He's joined by highly entertaining scarf-wearing bassist M. McKenzie (look to him for the shout- and clap-along cues), Wurlitzer-playin' J. Goodman and the Jiffy Pop drum sounds of J. Long. All aboard! (AGM). Towne Lounge.

1 a.m.

The Builders and the Butchers
[GHOST-DANCE GOSPEL] The ramshackle grooves and elliptical exhortations of '08 WW Best New Band the Builders and the Butchers' eponymous debut, rumor has it, only hinted at what's to come on the band's anticipated follow-up. Choirs, cellists, Chris Funk (the Decemberists' guitarist, who's producing) and assorted spirits joined the quintet in a gutted, NoPo Masonic Temple to help conjure the collection of neorevivalist hymns and dirges due later this year. (JR). Berbati's.

U.S.E.
[ELECTRONICA MAYHEM] Relying on an arsenal of Daft Punk-inspired jams, the seven-strong army that is Seattle's U.S.E. (short for "United State of Electronica") is on a party-and-destroy mission. Rolling since 2002, U.S.E.'s particular brand of party is totally over the top: vocoder-heavy call-and-response tunes full of big rifts explicitly meant to make you dance. (NMC). Holocene.

Explode Into Colors
[DUB ROCK] The fact that Explode into Colors shares a drummer with Olympia, Wash.'s Kickball is enough to excite most of the house-party junkies I know, but EIC does its own thing entirely. The trio plays dark, funky-ass dub that mixes the incoherent party jams of M.I.A. with the most rhythmic stuff Can ever did. Bring a date! (CJ). Rotture.

Boy Eats Drum Machine
[HIP-POP] The brainchild of singer, composer and self-proclaimed "turntable nerd" Jon Ragel, Boy Eats Drum Machine specializes in epic bedroom productions full of skittering drums, loopy Casio bursts and Ragel's own soulful croon. If Danger Mouse is ever looking for a new collaborator, he shouldn't look further than our own one-man whirlwind. (MM). Slabtown.

Stiffwiff
[COLLECTIVE IMPROV] A collective composed of some of Stumptown's finest local musicians and artists, Stiffwiff doesn't play music as much as it improvises. This isn't jam-band music, per se, but it is jammy—full of textured, decelerating grooves, intricately arranged layers of thick keys, muted horns and vibraphone. If the almost-jazz of Tortoise is your thing, I know where you should be tonight. (MM). Someday Lounge.

WWeek 2015