THE DELINES, MICHAEL DEAN DAMRON
(Kenton Club, 2025 N Kilpatrick) You know Willy Vlautin from his other band, Richmond Fontaine—not to mention his excellent novels. Vlautin's new project is the Delines, with the Damnations' Amy Boone on mic duties. The Decemberists' Jenny Conlee-Drizos and Richmond Fontaine's Sean Oldham are also in the ranks; expect soul-dripped American ballads so raw, they'll make you flinch. NED LANNAMANN


EVIAN CHRIST, SAMO SOUND BOY, MAGIC FADES
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) One day you're holed up in your Merseyside home, studying to be a teacher and making beats for fun, and the next you're one of the dudes who worked on Yeezus. Such is life for Josh Leary, better known as Evian Christ, the English bedroom producer-turned-man behind the track "I'm in It," the dirtiest song on Kanye West's abrasive 2013 album. Kanye reportedly learned of Leary's music through his self-released mixtape Kings and Them, and brought the twentysomething in for his gritty, ground-shaking sound, which blurs the lines between traditional boom-bap beats, woozy R&B, and glitchy electro-pop. The result is thunderously odd and charmingly jarring, and it's a perfect fit for white-hot electro/avant-rap label Tri Angle, home to Christ's new Waterfall EP, which Resident Advisor called "as brightly promising as it is stark and cold." BEN SALMON


JAMES TAYLOR
(Moda Center, 1 Center Ct) I'm tolerant of a lot of shittyass music. Hey, I've been known to enjoy some shittyass music myself upon occasion. Jackson Browne? Yeah, okay. Dan Fogelberg? Sure, fine. Gordon Lightfoot? Sign me up, bitches. But the dulcet tones and rock-solid finger-picking of Rock-a-Bye Sweet Baby James Taylor is where I draw the line, folks. (How much of an asshole do you have to be to write a lullaby to yourself?) Like a lot of you, the music of James Taylor was ever-present in the house where I grew up, but it remains quite literally the only music from childhood to which I failed to develop any sort of sentimental attachment. (I hated it then, too.) Considering how sentimental I've grown over some very dicey music (hi, Dad's old Little River Band albums!), I think this is saying a lot. Sweet Baby James' gelded soft rock is wincing and bankrupt, suitable only as a possible soundtrack for putting your dog to sleep. NL


THE DECEMBERISTS, SALLIE FORD
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Portland's favorite folk-pop bards the Decemberists play two consecutive nights at the Crystal—Thursday with Laura Veirs and Friday with Sallie Ford—to benefit Victory Academy, a school for children with autism. The group will play its landmark record Castaways and Cutouts in its entirety. MORGAN TROPER Also see My, What a Busy Week!


CLUB TROPICANA: SUZANNE KRAFT, NATURAL MAGIC, ACID FARM, DANIELA KARINA, BREAK MODE, KITCHEN DJ
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) Bed of Roses' paradise-themed showcase series is back for another round of up-and-coming electronic producers and unpretentious fun. Headlining the festivities this time is LA producer Suzanne Kraft (AKA Diego Herrera of Pharaohs and Blasé), bringing his uniquely playful experiments in pushing the bounds of house music. Come early and catch resident DJ Break Mode do his own boundary pushing, too. Mixing eras with ease, his sets are invariably well-crafted journeys backed by a career of working in a variety of genres. A full range of local beat-makers round out the lineup, and the one-and-only Chanticleer Tru of Magic Mouth serves as the conga line-leading master of ceremonies. JOSHUA JAMES AMBERSON


FATHER MURPHY, EXTRALONE, MOON MIRROR
(East End, 203 SE Grand) As the US grapples with the behemoth that is the new Swans record, here comes Father Murphy, an Italian band that not only recognizes the dark heart beating under the jackhammer percussion and emotional bombast, but also boasts a similar, Swans-like organ. The group's latest four-song EP, Pain Is on Our Side Now, has almost more impact than Swans' To Be Kind—in part because its four songs are much shorter and therefore cut to the quick. This gives you less time to steel yourself for the onslaught of scrabbling percussion and inky swells of droning guitar and bass. ROBERT HAM


DATAPORT: RHINOSTRICH, BRYFACE, TEMPLE MAPS
(Alhambra Theatre, 4811 SE Hawthorne) With the possible exception of Anamanaguchi, the popularity of modern chip music (which is, for the uninitiated, an esoteric offshoot of electronic music created using hardware from old 8-bit videogame consoles) is confined to a small niche of diehards. Otherwise, it's severely underrepresented, which is understandable—a lot of it is unsurprisingly inaccessible—but unfortunate, as many of the genre's practitioners are incredibly talented composers who happen to be working in an extremely nerdy medium. The organizers of DataPort, an upstart chip-centric showcase that's set to occur monthly at the Alhambra, intend to change that. This month's show features performances from New York artist Rhinostrich, Canadian Gameboy-pop specialist Bryface, and Temple Maps. MORGAN TROPER


CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN, MILLER AND SASSER
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE César E. Chávez) As they recounted the bands they played alongside, the Dead Milkmen remembered Camper Van Beethoven thusly: "We returned from a tour once to find them camped out in our house." Which sounds about right. Like the Milkmen, Camper Van came up as cheeky '80s punks, playfully sneering, too smart for their own good. Coming up as a dumb teenage punk in the '90s, I was introduced to Camper Van Beethoven by a cool-as-fuck friend with taste wise beyond his years. To this day, "Take the Skinheads Bowling" rings as uppity and marvelously as it ever has, a stick-in-the-eye, brush-the-dirt-off-your-shoulders nugget. As an oddity in pop, its triumph is eternal. And though the band did take the '90s off, Camper Van Beethoven aren't done making stuff. The group's about to release the slightly sweeter, somewhat more refined, yet still skronky and spiky El Camino Real next week, their second album in as many years. ANDREW R TONRY