Other highlights this weekend include underground rap idol Del the Funky Homosapien, dancehall titan Mavado, and a synth-pop showcase headlined by Diamond Rings. (Opening is Baathhaus, the subject of this week's music cover story.) Fans of classic country have to choose between Friday shows by Joe Ely and Jimmie Dale Gilmore, while that same night EDM fans are forced to decide between a Bloody Beetroots-headlined event at the Congress and a neo-dubstep party at the Aragon with Rusko topping the bill.
After the jump, four more live picks for the next few days.
Spoon front man Britt Daniel, Wolf Parade's Dan Boeckner, and New Bomb Turks drummer Sam Brown insist that their new band is more than just a one-off supergroup, and Peter Margasak agrees: "On my first listen through the record, Boeckner's singing style seemed like a counterpoint to Daniel's clipped soulfulness, but as I spent more time with it, they started to sound more and more similar (they wrote some of the songs collaboratively), like part of a full-grown whole instead of just a couple guys with a side project."
"There's an art to making sloppy, off-the-rails hardcore punk that doesn't sound like a pile of hot garbage," writes Kevin Warwick, "and it's not a subtle one." Keith Morris-fronted all-star group Off!, which headlines tonight, knows the trick, and garage punks the Spits, who play second, have a knack for it (when they're not purposely steering straight into hot-garbage territory). But it's the opening act that he singles out: "Raleigh four-piece Double Negative follow in the footsteps of their visionary predecessors, playing so fast and rough that it's a shock every time they end a song deliberately instead of just revving it up till it disintegrates."
Chan Marshall's latest album, Sun, is miles away from the brooding ballads listeners have come to expect from a Cat Power record. Peter Margasak says, "Not only are the lyrics measured, realistic, and cautiously optimistic, but the music is also radically transformed—it's more stripped down and electronic, and Marshall played everything, a new approach for her. She works with synthesizers, drum machines, and even (for a mercifully brief moment) Auto-Tune, and veteran French dance-music producer Philippe Zdar gives the album mix an extra floor-rattling punch—but the retooled sound doesn't obscure Marshall's sorrowful melodic sensibilities and muted, dusky soul." Chicago outsider-soul weirdo Willis Earl Beal opens.
As upbeat as Marshall has become, she's still miles away from the giddy manic intensity of Anamanaguchi. As I write in my preview, "Every one of the band's tracks is a synapse-searing overload, with guitars, drums, and eight-bit synthesizers blaring hypersugary neon-pop melodies at highly caffeinated tempos—prolonged exposure will probably lead to some sort of neurological damage," which I mean in the most positive way possible.