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Woollen Kits, Slushy, Dumpster Babies

It was a pretty good 2011 for Nic Warnock and R.I.P Society Records. The upstart Sydney-based garage label not only dropped a truly great LP of lo-fi power-poppy trash from Royal Headache, but several of its artists—including Royal Headache, Dead Farmers, Kitchen's Floor, and Warnock's own band Bed Wettin' Bad Boys—toured the States to help spread the gospel of the burgeoning Aussie underground. And this year is starting off just as strong: quirky Melbourne trio Woollen Kits, who recently released their self-titled debut, are traveling the country sharing their bare-bones mix of Beat Happening indie rock and Modern Lovers protopunk. Though guitarist Thomas Hardisty does most of the singing, in a baritone that sounds an awful lot like Calvin Johnson's, sometimes the band changes its tune from bummed, deadpan love songs to poppier, sneering love songs, for which drummer Tom Ridgewell takes over on the mike—he fronts the standout "Out of Whack," for instance. The band wasn't so democratic about vocals on previous EPs, and the change serves it well, giving its dirty, echoing jangle a dynamic that makes Woollen Kits' page worth dog-earing in the ever-growing R.I.P catalog. —Kevin Warwick See also Tuesday, when Woollen Kits play an in-store at Permanent Records. Slushy and Dumpster Babies open. $5 suggested donation.

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Field Auxiliary, Slow Animal, Gypsyblood

Yeah, it's another band with that sound—the same fuzzy, hissy garage rock that Wavves, Real Estate, and Harlem have been poking at for what now seems like eons. But even after those three long years, I'm just not sick of it. When that hyped-up sound doesn't reek of a fleeting attempt to cash in on some hot-shit indie trend—when it's got a dirty, dusty kind of melody and bits of hooky pop stitched into its lo-fi blankets of reverb—it's still fun. Compared to the aforementioned bands, Jersey duo Slow Animal is more beachy, with a touch of cracked-out, sped-up 60s doo-wop, but you wouldn't bat an eyelash if you saw them together on a bill. Slow Animal's Bandcamp page will have to do for now—the group's self-released debut is still at least a couple weeks away—but just in the process of writing this review I've become seriously addicted to the driving, playful rhythms and falsetto backing vocals on "TheFunSun" and "Dolt Heart." —Kevin Warwick Field Auxiliary headlines, Slow Animal and Gypsyblood open. $8, free with RSVP to rsvp@emptybottle.com

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Klang, Jeff Albert's Instigation Quartet

In New Orleans, even the outcats are jobbing musicians. Trombonist Jeff Albert has played ebullient free jazz with his own bands and spaghetti-squiggly electronics with the Laptop Orchestra of Louisiana, but he's also worked in cruise-ship horn sections and backed up Ronnie Milsap. The Instigation Quartet, one of his most adventurous endeavors, is more an idea than a group; its book is a set of loose verbal and written instructions for improvisers, and at each gig he confronts a different set of musicians with those texts. Albert has previously convened the quartet in Germany, Chicago, and New Orleans, and in November he recorded a version with saxophonist Kidd Jordan, drummer Hamid Drake, and bassist Joshua Abrams, who turn his instigations into constantly shifting explorations of mood and texture. Because he had three associates of the late, great Fred Anderson on hand, the resulting album—titled The Tree on the Mound and due sometime this year on French label Rogue Art—also includes a couple of the tenor saxophonist's tunes. Albert's solo on Anderson's "The Strut," which blends blubbery chatter with bluesy testifying, is an irresistible combination of down-home and far-out. This version of the Instigation Quartet includes Abrams, drummer Tim Daisy, and reedist Keefe Jackson (who used to work with Albert in the Lucky 7s, and who has a few noteworthy shows of his own this week—see page B12). Local clarinetist James Falzone opens with his group Klang, who will play the material they're recording the next day at Electrical Audio for their third album, tentatively titled Brooklyn Lines, Chicago Spaces. —Bill Meyer $8

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Aida

Written late in Verdi's life and set in ancient Egypt, Aida is well-known for its lavish sets, gigantic choruses, and plentiful dance numbers—and all that grandeur serves as a backdrop for one of opera's most unrelentingly passionate title roles. In this Lyric production, soprano Sondra Radvanovsky gives a triumphant performance as an Ethiopian slave caught in a doomed love triangle. With her ravishing voice, she can cut through a substantial orchestra and chorus or sing breathtaking upper-register pianissimos that seem to float in the air—the latter were especially incredible during "O Patria Mia." As Egyptian general Radames, tenor Marcello Giordani delivers the necessary heroics, with a big Italianate sound that sometimes seems tight on high notes; mezzo-soprano Jill Grove, who plays the pharaoh's daughter Amneris, is especially compelling dramatically and vocally during her full-voiced vengeance scenes. Verdi composed Aida around the same time as his Requiem, and both feature high-voltage drama, an intense rhythmic drive, and thrilling choruses. After this week's two performances, the next are in March, at which time several cast changes go into effect; they include Hui He as Aida, Marco Berti as Radames, and Anna Smirnova as Amneris. Renato Palumbo conducts; the production runs through Sun 3/25. —Barbara Yaross $54-$239

Recommended The List (Music) All Ages

Scale the Summit, Elitist, Centaurus, Burn the Remains

Scale the Summit got it right when they decided to forgo vocals. Lots of instrumental metal or postrock bands eventually experiment with singing, but I don't even want to imagine this Houston prog outfit with a front man—I just know it'd add nothing but overblown pomp to their already heady songs, like the vocals in old-school Dream Theater and, dare I say it, Coheed & Cambria. Last year's The Collective (Prosthetic) is half metal and half atmospheric prog, full of seven- and eight-string guitar lines and seriously skilled six-string bass moves (though you'll have to deal with some slapping). Of course, you'd better know what you're doing when you start fiddling around with mutant, extra-level Guitar World instruments, and Scale the Summit definitely do. The album's standout cut, "Gallows," starts off with double-kick-drum head-banging heaviness, then morphs into a lovely, epic jam that could soundtrack any one of the scenes from The Neverending Story where Atreyu is riding high on Falcor's back. Who needs vocals when you've got that? —Kevin Warwick Elitist, Centaurus, and Burn the Remains open. $12, $10 in advance

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A-Trak

Montreal-bred DJ and producer Alain "A-Trak" Macklovitch, co-owner of the Fool's Gold label, is one of the few people in electronic dance music who has equal footing in two parts of that world that sometimes seem mutually exlusive: he's beloved by the underground club scenes that defined the form's recent past as well as by the more mainstream crowd that's recently (finally) brought EDM in America to the arena-size level of popularity it's long enjoyed in Europe. His bipartisan appeal isn't hard to figure out. Macklovitch is a firm believer in the transcendent power of big, broad, dumb hooks—take for instance "Barbra Streisand," the anthemic earworm he and Armand Van Helden recorded as Duck Sauce—but because he knows that they're best used sparingly, he prefers to maintain a steady simmer rather than overload the senses like, say, Skrillex. January's installment of his monthly Fool's Gold Radio mix series is typically ebullient and eclectic, with nods to everything from swag rap to retrofuturistic acid house. —Miles Raymer Gun Love, DJ Trentino, and Phenom open. $15-$20

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Netherfriends, Secret Colours, Vamos

Nearly two years ago, Netherfriends main man Shawn Rosenblatt set out to write and record a song in every U.S. state, and now that he's done, the nomadic former Chicagoan has collected 12 of them on the impressive new full-length Middle America (Kilo). Rosenblatt's dreamy psych-pop trip through the midwest covers a lot of territory—Hawaiian-sounding slide guitar, propulsive drum rolls, laid-back sax, funky fatback synth—but he wraps it all up in a warm, gauzy blanket that gives the album's soaring choral melodies and airy, reverb-soaked soundscapes a romantic tinge. Even when he sings about the banality of his road-ravaged lifestyle—playing to tiny crowds, living on food stamps—he keeps Netherfriends' ebullient spirit alive. His unwavering devotion to his lifelong dream to be a musician (another recurring theme in his lyrics) keeps him going through those rough patches, helping him turn them into songs that sound as beautiful as anything inspired by his brighter moments. —Leor Galil Secret Colours and Vamos open. $8

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Ana Moura

Of all the new wave of Portuguese fado singers to emerge in the past decade, no one cleaves to tradition like the fantastic Ana Moura. She resists the temptation to aim for a broader audience by tweaking the music's fundamentals, and her approach appears to work—last summer I saw her playing to a packed house in Vancouver, and she had the audience eating out of her hand. Last year's Coliseu (World Village) is a live album of a 2008 performance where she's accompanied by a nimble backing band of bass, acoustic guitar, and Portuguese guitar; Moura's powerful voice fills the room, its honeyed warble ever so slightly scuffed up by the meticulously pitched drama of her delivery. Her English-language banter is a bit showbizzy, but it's hard to be bothered by that when she sings. —Peter Margasak $26-$30

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Swan King, Bridesmaid, Sun Splitter, Oyarsa

The Swan King are clearly a metal band at heart: their songs are loud, punchy, and heavy; they share bills almost exclusively with metal bands; and their LP Eyes Like Knives came out last year on Seventh Rule, which has also released music by heavyweights Indian, Sweet Cobra, and Batillus. But one spin of Knives and it's obvious that there's more going on in these dudes' heads than just metal. Drummer Zafar Musharraf and former Planes Mistaken for Stars bassist Jamie Drier give their rhythms the grimy push and swing of the Jesus Lizard, and guitarist Dallas Thomas has a throaty yell reminiscent of Rick Froberg. The Swan King's heavy-handed blend of punk and metal is both brutal and catchy, and it's even better live—you wouldn't expect a band that sounds like this to shy away from turning up and hitting hard onstage, and these guys don't. —Luca Cimarusti Bridesmaid, Sun Splitter, and Oyarsa open. $8, free with RSVP at rsvp@emptybottle.com

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Netherfriends (DJ set)

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Mike Reed Trio, Jacob Garchik Trio

Consisting of three of New York's most skilled and adaptable improvisers, this trio upends audience expectations about the roles played by the instruments in a traditional jazz group. Leader and trombonist Jacob Garchik (he also squeezes a mean accordion in the Four Bags) writes music that blurs the boundary between what's composed and what's improvised and messes around with which instrument does what—sometimes the drums, which usually enjoy the most latitude in interpreting jazz scores, play the most tightly prescribed parts. That's not to say that Garchik insists his bandmates follow his scores to the letter: in a recent e-mail he told me, "We've been playing some new, un­recorded music which is even more highly notated, but I'm sure as time goes on, we will become more and more free with those too." Garchik, drummer Dan Weiss (a regular collaborator with Rudresh Mahanthappa), and pianist Jacob Sacks bring a lyrical fluidity to even the thorniest tunes, like the through-composed "7s," whose front-line melodies conceal loads of tricky twists and turns. That song appears on the trio's recent live release, At Play, which is downloadable for free at Garchik's website. The album also includes "Alls," a version of the standard "All the Things You Are" that's mostly free improvisation and delivers the theme only obliquely at the end, and "X," which employs the most ubiquitous nonblues chord changes in all of jazz—from Gershwin's "I Got Rhythm"—though you probably won't notice unless you listen for them. —Peter Margasak The Mike Reed Trio headlines. $7 suggested donation

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Donald Harrison Quartet

Alto saxophonist Donald Harrison is the quintessential New Orleans musician—he's adept at playing anything with a nice groove, regardless of genre, and his deep soulfulness embraces the past as much as the present. On last year's This Is Jazz (Half Note), his third album with bassist Ron Carter and drummer Billy Cobham, he's in strict hard-bop mode—with the exception of the sole original, "Treme Swagger," where Harrison eats up the funky second-line groove, elaborating on a melody that recalls vintage Meters. He does his best to elevate the otherwise predictable program of standards, navigating the changes with assurance and grace and inextricably intertwining his lyric and rhythmic mastery. For this visit Harrison is joined by a strong Chicago rhythm section he's worked with before: pianist Willie Pickens, bassist Marlene Rosenberg, and drummer Robert Shy. —Peter Margasak $20

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Black Belles

It's tempting to call Nashville's Black Belles the all-female American version of the Horrors—they've got an idiosyncratic take on second-wave garage rock and an archly goth image that's also vaguely Hanna-Barbera—except that so few people in the U.S. even know who the Horrors are, aside from NME subscribers and Mighty Boosh superfans. The Black Belles, on the other hand, have had more than their share of stateside exposure thanks to their relationship with Jack White: he's produced their records, released their music on his Third Man label, directed their videos, hooked them up with a gig backing Stephen Colbert, and generally promoted the hell out of the band. But their 2011 self-titled album suggests that they'd do just fine without the A-list association. The material is long on atmosphere and image, heavy on the hooks, and, rather refreshingly, almost entirely devoid of anything that doesn't help deliver on those primary concerns—plus, YouTube evidence suggests that their live show is witchy as all get-out. —Miles Raymer See also Wednesday. This set is part of the Reader's Anti-Valentine's Day Party. $14

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Heartless Bastards, Hacienda, Precious Blood

If you're a native Cincinnatian like me, you know two things—first, you have to like covering spaghetti with watered-down chili, and second, you're pretty much obligated to count the Heartless Bastards among your favorite bands. Cincy isn't the hottest hot spot for breakout acts, so when somebody does make the leap (the Greenhornes, for instance), the community rallies around. I hadn't yet freaked over the Heartless Bastards' bluesy and soulful bar (punk) rock when I left the Queen City in 2008, but since then the power and attitude in Erika Wennerstrom's voice—with its impossible­-to-ignore, Patti Smith-like force—has won me over completely. She's remained the only constant member through several lineup changes (the band's now based in Austin), and honestly, that's all that matters. Arrow (Partisan), the follow-up to 2009's breakthrough The Mountain, comes out on Valentine's Day, and Wennerstrom owns it from the get-go. On the six-minute opener, "Marathon," she shows off an unreal range, beginning with a sultry kind of timidity and gradually climbing into an anthemic, take-no-prisoners holler. She leads the charge on the rest of the album too, whether she's singing an acoustic ditty or a plugged-in number like "Got to Have Rock and Roll"—which delivers exactly what its title promises. —Kevin Warwick Hacienda and Precious Blood open. $15

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Cate Le Bon, Talkdemonic, Bone & Bell

Though Welsh singer Cate Le Bon is a protege of Gruff Rhys (Super Furry Animals), her extraordinary second album, Cyrk (The Control Group), reminds me more of the great Welsh rock band Gorky's Zygotic Mynci in the irresistible way it collides woozy pop, genteel British folk, and wiggy psychedelia—it probably doesn't hurt that her backing guitarist, Sion Glyn, played in the group for a bit. Le Bon is often compared to Nico, presumably because they share a kind of exaggerated enunciation, but that's as far as the similarities go—whether Le Bon's sanguine songs sound like 60s punk (the jackhammering "Falcon Eyed") or a trippy waltz ("Julia"), there's nothing icy about them. Her lyrics often describe characters with vivid imaginations: on "Greta," a deliberately broken ballad that reminds me of early Faust, she sings, "You can realign light, but you can't tame the girl / When her eyes are the size of lagoons." Glyn routinely and magnificently punctures the tunes with fuzzed-out guitar solos, while Le Bon gilds them with ethereal, overdubbed vocal harmonies, turning the album into a series of jolts and caresses. It's still early in the year, but I've yet to hear anything I like more. —Peter Margasak Talkdemonic and Bone & Bell open. $12, $10 in advance