(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) While José González may still be best known for the whisper-quiet folk of his solo career, the Swedish guitarist's rock trio Junip offers hypnotic, pliant grooves that build in momentum and power. Don't miss openers On An On, whose album Give In is a splashy, upbeat debut. NED LANNAMANN

(White Owl Social Club, 1305 SE 8th) Rap-rock has always tilted precariously toward the rock end of that equation, resulting in lots of awful music from what can really only be characterized as rock bands, despite the frat-boy flow and the presence of a "DJ" somewhere over on stage left. Rafael Vigilantics, on the other hand, is unmistakably an emcee, and he's unquestionably making hiphop, despite the razor-sharp guitars and melodic underpinnings of his new, third album, The Spade Tapes. Thankfully, the result is nothing at all like what we think of as rap-rock, whose unfortunate trajectory during the '90s went from Rage Against the Machine to rage against your girlfriend. Instead, Vigilantics makes hiphop—which he dubs "search-and-destroy hiphop"—that doesn't rely on the genre's oft-imitated tropes. The result is something original made out of familiar ingredients, and it's also really good; The Spade Tapes' "New Thing" in particular sounds like a gigantic hit in the making. NL

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Early Mice Parade albums like Ramda, The True Meaning of Boodleybaye, and Mokoondi featured an interesting array of tracks that blended minimalist IDM, neo-exotica, and downtempo post-rock. Over the last dozen or so years, Mice Parade leader and dexterous percussionist Adam Pierce has gravitated toward a more precious, cutely melodic sound that seems to be merging with that of the Icelandic group Múm (whose Gunnar Örn Tynes now plays with Mice Parade). The new full-length, Candela, finds Pierce & Co. keeping the rhythms bustling and the guitar surprisingly bristling while Gisellse Saad Assi adds delicate vocal embroidery. These new songs rock harder than much of Mice Parade's dozy '00s output; unexpected positive development!

(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) There's a warm, yellowed, '60s-rock meets marijuana meets the echo-effect-on-vocals that washes over San Francisco four-piece Cool Ghouls' jangledelic rock 'n' roll. Their best songs mix scuzzy guitar and rambling harmonies with blaring horns and piano sprinklings, keeping things joyful and even a little classy, in a "bowtie at the bar fight" sort of way. EMILY NOKES

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Cloaked beneath a cloud of weed, Xanax, and codeine cough syrup are glimpses of two distinct rappers—one being re-born, the other hoping to be christened. Invigorated by last year's "Bands a Make Her Dance," a strip-club anthem that twerks alongside the very best, Juicy J is once again riding high—super high, like totally twisted. After scoring an Academy Award with Three 6 Mafia for Best Song in 2005 ("It's Hard Out There for a Pimp," from Hustle and Flow), Juicy J was suddenly set for life. But the party of those old songs never stopped. Ever since, J's been smoking, leaning, rapping, and tweeting (check @therealjuicyj for occasional bits of intoxicated Zen, or the song "Juicy J Can't," a catalog of similar exploits). Balancing the old pro is A$AP Ferg, a member of NYC's aspiringly ascendant crew, whose namesake has failed to demonstrate much real value. If nothing else, Ferg ought to be hungry—especially while supporting the established vet in Juicy J. Ferg should be ready to prove, as a cadre of East Coast journalists have been so often suggesting, that the A$AP crew, as well as much contemporary New York rap, are worthy of attention outside the boroughs. ANDREW R TONRY