(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) It's easy to imagine the childlike band Tilly and the Wall as blissed-out hosts of a long-forgotten children's TV show from your youth. With their tap-dancing percussion, goofball enthusiasm, sunglass-straining costumes, and catchy dance-makers, they're a feel-good spot of sunshine in an ever-darkening autumn. COURTNEY FERGUSON

(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) Fresh off a September European tour, Blood Beach have returned to Portland with their psycho-garage explosion in tow. Completing a successful Kickstarter campaign this past July to fund a tour-only 7-inch (the creepy-cool "Dead Maester's Tongue" b/w "Factory Dream") and to curate a Portland music cassette compilation (dubbed Keep Portland Normal), the band have been playing more than a passing role in the expansion of the Rose City's burgeoning outsider-rock underworld. They're as good a vessel as any to harbor such a task; Blood Beach's vaguely sophomoric garage-pop combo cocks the knockout punch of free-roaming jams as well as punkier psychedelic territory. Their 2011 vinyl LP, Return of the Curse of the Creature's Ghost, posits acid-washed wah-wahs, anti-melodic yelps of reverb-heavy rock, and other spooky delights that carry songs like "Candy" into eerie realms. RYAN J. PRADO

(Mt. Tabor Theater, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Nappy Roots are a Kentucky hiphop group that met at college in the mid-'90s. The turn of the century found them capitalizing on major label interest, due in part to the success of Southern acts such as Ludacris, Master P, and OutKast. Their major label debut, 2002's Watermelon, Chicken & Gritz, went platinum and allowed them to tour the world, although subsequent albums did not replicate their former glory. Their most recent full-length, Nappy Dot Org, is a welcome return to form, with all production handled by hit producers Organized Noize. Local emcee Serge Severe has recently returned from performing high-profile stage and radio shows in New York City, where his management resides. Severe is one of the most talented lyricists in Portland, and his intelligent wordplay, combined with his punishing delivery, sends the don't-sleep meter to code red. RYAN FEIGH