EAR CANDY: SUMMER CANNIBALS, GRANDHORSE
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) What kind of candy doesn't cause cavities, hyperactivity, or obesity? Ear Candy! The Mercury's monthly music series, co-hosted by Mississippi Studios, brings you the best local bands—for free! This month: the rad, gnashing rock of Summer Cannibals and the melodically galloping Grandhorse, both of which have quickly become two of the best live bands in town. NED LANNAMANN


ONEOHTRIX POINT NEVER, DAWN OF MIDI
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Daniel Lopatin's music is as impossible to pin down as he is (multiple attempts to secure an interview with the Brooklyn-based artist for this publication proved fruitless). Recording as Oneohtrix Point Never, Lopatin can lull you into a weird calm with warm New Age-like synth tones right after he's terrified you with a blast of overdriven beats and parched noise. His latest album, R Plus Seven, threatens to be his most accessible collection yet, but he manages to upend those expectations with some truly freaked-out Philip Glass-like repetitions and ambient tracks that could be an alternate soundtrack to Andrei Tarkovsky's hypnotically creepy sci-fi films. Lopatin is billing his current run of West Coast dates as a full audio-visual experience, so prepare yourself for potential sensory overload. ROBERT HAM


THE MENZINGERS, OFF WITH THEIR HEADS, BROADWAY CALLS, LEE COREY OSWALD
(Branx, 320 SE 2nd) The Menzingers' first album for Epitaph, 2012's On the Impossible Past, remains a brightly burning candle that may not ever go out. The Scranton (it is a real place!), Pennsylvania, four-piece makes punk that's laced with the kind of sugar-blast hooks that you'll find in bowls of brightly colored cereal, and the sort of sweat-stained, ragged melodies you'll find on Bruce Springsteen's ass bandana. In other words, the Menzingers' loveable, hyperactive pop cultivates true, deep-down affection. Tonight's all-ages crowd will no doubt be filled with kids (and more than a fair share of grinning grownups, too) who can howl along to every refrain of "I will fuck this up/I fucking know it" from "The Obituaries." If you're not one of them yet, one listen to On the Impossible Past might just convert you. NL