CATE LE BON, KEVIN MORBY
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Welsh singer/songwriter Cate Le Bon sounds like a sensitive aristocrat on the mic, her voice a distinctive combination of Nico's stolid delivery and umlaut-y vowels and Joni Mitchell's mellifluousness. Le Bon's 2012 album, Cyrk, is a banquet of high-IQ rock full of elegant, baroque melodies built to last and sporadic, shockingly great rave-ups. Her new full-length, Mug Museum, sounds slicker than past releases, but Le Bon's songs retain certain structural peculiarities and melodic quirks—revealing affinities with Pavement and Gorky's Zygotic Mynci—that keep blandness well at bay. Pay close attention to her. DAVE SEGAL


PURE BATHING CULTURE, THEM HILLS, NICK REINHART
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) The twinkling, astral pop of Pure Bathing Culture got me through one winter, and as the warm weather again recedes far into the rearview, it seems certain the Portland band is capable of getting me through another. Centered around keyboardist/vocalist Sarah Versprille and guitarist Dan Hindman, and augmented by bassist Zach Tillman and drummer Brian Wright, PBC only released their first full-length in August—the glimmering, dimension-spanning Moon Tides—but these songs already seem like old favorites, as they've been highlights at the countless number of hometown live shows the group has played since their Portland debut in January 2012. No matter what the temperature is outside tonight, Pure Bathing Culture's humid, human, cleansing pop is guaranteed to fog up Holocene's windows. NED LANNAMANN


VADEN TODD LEWIS, SEAN CROGHAN
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) I never understood the blank comparisons between the Toadies and the rest of the grunge pack. There was always something a little darker and creepier about their lyrics. They had a certain twang that came from being a product of Texas. And frontman Vaden Todd Lewis sounded like his vocal cords were being run through a meat grinder. To some, the Toadies will always be the "Possum Kingdom" band ("Do you wanna diiiiieeee..."); their cult followers know that subsequent releases like Feeler and Hell Below/Stars Above are as good, if not better than their 1994 debut Rubberneck. And the Toadies are still putting out music. But for the time being Lewis is playing some solo gigs, digging up Toadies material as well as songs from Burden Brothers, his project with members of Reverend Horton Heat. MARK LORE


SIR MIX-A-LOT, BAD HABITAT, AMERIKAN OVERDOSE, CARMINE
(Analog Café, 720 SE Hawthorne) Whether or not they'd admit it, my parents know the song "Baby Got Back." Shit, yours do, too. Along with just about every other person you've ever met: Sir Mix-a-Lot's magnum opus is one of the most ubiquitous, lasting hits of the last 20 years. Which leads one to believe that the royalties have kept rolling in—I mean, at least enough to eat and keep the house. So, assuming Mix-a-Lot still has some dough, it would seem that he's playing a place like the Analog Café for 15 bucks because he WANTS to, right? Surely the Prince of Posteriors will be bumping "Baby Got Back." But what the hell else is on the menu? Myriad lesser hits? Deep cuts from Return of the Bumpasaurus? Or maybe even something new? Certainly, questions abound. But in a relatively intimate venue, for a reasonable price, those answers seem worth seeking. ANDREW R TONRY


BLUE CRANES, DYLAN RYAN SAND, THE KANDINSKY EFFECT
(The Goodfoot, 2845 SE Stark) Since 1984, Cuneiform Records has been one of the preeminent imprints for forward-thinking jazz, prog, and folk acts. Tonight, the label gets a small celebration here in Portland with three of its current acts featured on one bill—the first time that's happened on the West Coast. You likely already know local heroes Blue Cranes, whose 2013 release Swim is a masterwork of tight grooves and the ropy sax work of Reed Wallsmith and Joe Cunningham. So, it's a good chance to acquaint yourself with the Paris/New York electronic/jazz hybrid trio the Kandinsky Effect, and Dylan Ryan Sand, the trio led by drummer Dylan Ryan that swings like vintage bop but puts a higher premium on Tim Young's fiery guitar work and the blast of freeform musical chaos. ROBERT HAM