THURSDAY 4/29

MAKE IT POP!: COLIN MELOY, THE ALIALUJAH CHOIR, AH HOLLY FAM'LY, MUSEE MECANIQUE, DJ JEREMY PETERSON

(The Cleaners at the Ace Hotel, 403 SW 10th) See My, What a Busy Week!

JACKPOT FILM AND MUSIC FEST: JANDEK, THURSTON MOORE

(Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy) See Music.

EVERYBODY WAS IN THE FRENCH RESISTANCE... NOW!, AND AND AND

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See Music.

ELUVIUM, GROUPER, DJ YETI

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music.

RICHMOND FONTAINE, FROM WORDS TO BLOWS, THE VERY FOUNDATION

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) In the midst of a reading tour for his new novel Lean on Pete, Willy Vlautin has also found time for a hometown show with Richmond Fontaine, his alt-country band who have racked up a string of phenomenal albums, most recently last year's We Used to Think the Freeway Sounded Like a River. As with his prose, Vlautin's songs contain an astonishing blend of desolation and hope, feeling like a warm rest after a long, chilly journey. Richmond Fontaine are one of those rare bands about whom each and every countless word of praise is indisputably deserved. They're joined on the bill by From Words to Blows, the band of journeyman bassist Jesse Emerson. Backed by Little Sue on bass, the Decemberists' Jenny Conlee on keys, and Jackmormons drummer Steve Drizos, Emerson takes center stage with a collection of power-pop hooks. From Words to Blows celebrates the release of their self-titled album at tonight's show. NED LANNAMANN

LIARS, FOL CHEN, TU FAWNING

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Liars keep on pushing for the darkness. The veteran trio's fifth album, Sisterworld, isn't as propulsive as previous efforts, but it's a seriously heavy and moving work. The record's mournful, neo-gothic beauty evokes Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, but with less bluesy melodrama. Although the album was recorded in several Los Angeles studios, its arboreal feel sounds like it comes from Mitteleuropa. Liars may have mellowed slightly, but they're no less interesting for it at this late stage in their existence. Los Angeles sextet Fol Chen gallivant in the possibility-laden space where rock and electronic music intersect. On their forthcoming album, Part II: The New December, they combine enigmatic whimsy with baroque melodic sweetness and interesting, vivid textures. Fol Chen should well complement Liars' more morbid explorations. DAVE SEGAL

BABY DEE, THE GOLDEN BEARS

(The Woods, 6637 SE Milwaukie) With Joanna Newsom's singing approaching conventionality on her newest triple album, it is left up to Baby Dee to helm the realm of eccentrically sung harp-and-voice art songs. Dee's latest, A Book of Songs for Anne Marie, is actually a collection of older tunes seeing a re-release following her 2008 breakthrough, the Will Oldham-produced Safe Inside the Day. With harp, piano, and a tremoring vibrato, Baby Dee's songs are supposedly based on the tradition of German lieder, but there's a showtune schmaltziness resting gently underneath these ballads' placid surfaces—as well as a genuine wonderment at the nature of emotion that makes Dee's unusual sound almost universal. Meanwhile, opening band the Golden Bears are gradually working on the follow-up to 2008's tremendous Wall to Wall. There's a bit of a delay; the band's home studio has been hijacked as the recording site for Corin Tucker's eagerly anticipated upcoming solo debut, with Golden Bears' guitarist/vocalist Seth Lorinczi helming the boards. NL

THE BLANK TAPES, MARTY MARQUIS, FPODBPOD

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) The occasion for this West Coast tour and swing through town from the Bay Area's Blank Tapes (Matt Adams and friends), is not so much about the release of his latest collection of dreamy California pop gems, Home Away from Home. That comes second to the larger purpose of helping load up a friend in Portland and move him back down south, with the thought that they might as well play some shows while they're at it. Such is the nature of Adams' communally centered music, echoing the essence of local acts like Jared Mees and the Grown Children, the rare troubadours who both write the songs that you sing along with, and also give you a ride if you need it. MARANDA BISH

FRIDAY 4/30

TEAM NATALIE: DJ MAGIC BEANS, MISS U, DJ BOOKS

(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) See My, What a Busy Week!

MECCA NORMAL

(Land, 3925 N Mississippi) See My, What a Busy Week!

MURS, SICK JACKEN, SERGE SEVERE

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) When the dust settles on Murs' catalog, Fornever will be considered a far less ambitious and complete effort than Murs for President. Yet the latest from Los Angeles emcee—along with his hiphop life partner, 9th Wonder—can still bring hope to even the most discouraged of hiphop heads. While Fornever is an uneven recording—see: the clumsy gender issues and tired PMS jokes of "Let Me Talk" and the unlistenable "Asian Girl"—its best moments are monumental. On lead single "The Problem Is..." Murs rules the roost as a dagger-spitting emcee with an urgent delivery, yet with a casual simplicity to his rhymes. The album's closing number only furthers this impression, as Murs' verses on "Live from Roscoe's" might be the best ode to everyday Los Angeles life since that day Ice Cube saw his name on a blimp. EZRA ACE CARAEFF Also see My, What a Busy Week!.

JAVELIN, COPY, MAY LING, CHROME WINGS, E*ROCK

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Javelin is a Brooklyn-based pair of cousins who make mashed-up, loop-heavy, lo-fi found-sound dance movements. They stack banged-up boom boxes five high and light them up with crafty MPC work, Casio synths, and drum pads. Javelin are crate diggers and cassette-shelf miners who can take bad waiting-room muzak and bird-sounds CDs and turn them into an unstoppable improv breakbeat jam. Javelin's uniqueness is the strength of their ear and their ability to find and radically work over a sample. It's lighthearted at first listen but seriously moving on the dance floor. The live setup is a table full of Frankensteined gear, plastic artifacts, and pushable buttons. Now with Thrill Jockey in the picture, look for the Javelin to never land. TRENT MOORMAN

SATURDAY 5/1

TYPHOON, THE LAST SLICE OF BUTTER, WAMPIRE

(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) See Music.

TYPHOON, POINT JUNCTURE WA, JARED MEES AND THE GROWN CHILDREN

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) See Music.

AGESANDAGES, THE BROTHERS YOUNG

(The Woods, 6637 SE Milwaukie) AgesAndAges are midway through recording their debut album, to be released on Partisan Records—at one point it was going to come out as a six-song EP, but it was decided by all parties that an album would be better, so the band is recording five more tunes this May to make it a full-length. In the meantime, the seven-member-strong group—which features the talents of Tim Perry and Kate O'Brien-Clarke, both formerly of the late, lamented Pseudosix—has assembled a batch of sunshine-harmony rock tunes with deceptively complex arrangements. What they've laid to tape thus far is excellent, full of loping beats, stacked harmonies, and dizzying melodies. There's no reason to expect that the remainder of the album, when it's finished, will be any less terrific. NL

ROOT JACK, RADIO MOSCOW, OLD GROWTH, AQUASERGE, CASPER AND THE COOKIES

(East End, 203 SE Grand) There must be a rift in time within the city limits of Story City, Iowa, because it would seem that their very own Radio Moscow might actually be from the year 1972. There are a lot of bands reaching into the past and pulling out whatever sound and image they can get ahold of, but Radio Moscow are the real deal. The band plays heavy, Deep Purple-style blues riffs laden with psychedelia. Displaying a major Hendrix influence, singer/guitarist Parker Griggs joyfully manhandles his Fender guitar and wah-wah pedal. Radio Moscow look like they wear their dads' clothes and sound like they are playing on their grandfathers' gear. Rock and roll was stripped to the bone in the early '70s and these guys have the soul to recreate it. Take your parents to the show, give them some acid, and tell them it's 1972. They won't know the difference. ARIS WALES

RED SPAROWES, CASPIAN, FANG ISLAND

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Los Angeles' Red Sparowes don't make post-rock so much as they make post-traumatic-rock. Their sweeping, roiling, and violent crescendos seem primed to soundtrack a complete psychological breakdown—and their mellower compositions, brined in pedal-steel rootsiness, set the perfect mood for dissolving one's ego. It's beautiful stuff, to be sure; full of brawny grandeur and overdubbed fretwork, Red Sparowes' music is perfectly enjoyable even with your sanity intact. At times they very closely resemble some of their post-rock contemporaries, but, refreshingly, there are fleeting moments on their newest album, The Fear Is Excruciating, but Therein Lies the Answer, more redolent of master guitarist Bill Frisell's contributions to the last Earth record than of Earth themselves. JASON BAXTER

LMNO, KEV BROWN, DJ LD & MORE

(Report Lounge, 1101 E Burnside) Long Beach, California, rapper LMNO (AKA James Kelly) and producer Kev Brown are touring under the banner of "The James Brown Show" (a conflation of the former's first and the latter's last name). The handle also spotlights the duo's commitment to honoring old-school hiphop's roots; Kev Brown's a disciple of Pete Rock, DJ Premier, and J Dilla, while LMNO spits positively and politically charged verses for the Visionaries crew. The twosome isn't doing anything innovative, but they've got their beats and flows down to a beneficial science. Plus, LMNO's plan to release 10 albums—each with a different producer—in 2010 is proof of an admirable work ethic and deep industry connections (dude was tight with Eazy-E back in the day). DS

SUNDAY 5/2

ARCHEOLOGY, LAKES, PORCHES, ALAMEDA

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Jason Davis and Daniel Walker met a few years back, while working at an archeological site in Washington. Since then, they've sidelined their love of carbon dating to make moody indie pop that digs a little deeper. Archeology's most recent findings are contained on their debut full-length, Memorial, and best displayed in the track "Altar Song," with its hushed instrumentals and resounding harmonies. The local band will be arriving home from their "Memorial Tour," a West Coast jaunt in support of the new record, and have decided to rest their weary bones at Mississippi Studios with a cozy bill of cerebral folk-rock, each band more than worthy of your precious listening hours (and your six dollars). RAQUEL NASSER

GERMAN MEASLES, THE BEETS, NUCULAR AMINALS

(East End, 203 SE Grand) The Beets are yet another Brooklyn band doing a bong-smoke-hazy take on classic '50s pop and the softer side of '60s garage rock—like a puckish punk band (their debut is called Spit in the Face of People Who Don't Want to Be Cool) playing an under-the-sea prom, but doing it more or less by the book. A lot of this stuff strikes me as incredibly lazy and boring—which, really, is kind of the vibe it's going for—but the Beets clearly have some quality hooks hidden under their mildly obfuscating reverb and tape hiss. German Measles are yet another another another another such band, a little messier and wilder, with songs like "Wild Weekend": "C'mon baby and party with me/Take some drugs and party with me/We're gonna have a wild weekend/Hey baby it's party time." ERIC GRANDY

TELEPHONED, NEO G YO, WINSTON LANE, MATRIMONY, RUDE DUDES

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) The idea of a Brooklyn duo like Telephoned covering the work of T-Pain and The-Dream really put my irony detector on high alert. It's clear though that Maggie Horn and DJ Sammy Bananas are passionate about the music they play. Telephoned is less about commenting on the club hits of today than recontextualizing those songs to keep the party going. Their take on Soulja Boy's "Turn My Swag On" is so earnest it would easily sound at home on the Top 40 playlist over at WiLD 107.5. The age of irony is finally dead, people—Telephoned killed it. DAVE BOW

MONDAY 5/3

THE ANTLERS, PHANTOGRAM

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Barsuk-signed duo Phantogram are sort of like a Tobacco for folks who'd prefer slightly more straightforward pop songs in their analog, beat-heavy electronics. Singer/keyboardist Sarah Barthel sings with a sweet if rather stock sort of triphop sexiness, giving voice to occasionally goofy lyrics like, "Wake up/You're getting high on your own supply"—this over a buzzing, bending synth line on the song "Mouthful of Diamonds." Bandmate Josh Carter's quasi-rapping on "Turn it Off" is less successful, although "Running from the Cops" squiggles his voice appealingly, as though it were being recorded off a shaking piece of sheet metal. Naming your album Eyelid Movies just begs for a crack about it putting listeners to sleep, but Phantogram's palette of sounds—especially their breakbeats and synth gurgles—keeps jolting you awake, even when the songs get mellow. EG Also see My, What a Busy Week!

TUESDAY 5/4

THE FEROCIOUS FEW, MONARQUES, 1776

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!

WEDNESDAY 5/5

HIGH ON FIRE, PRIESTESS, BLACK COBRA, BISON

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Music.

LOS CAMPESINOS!, SIGNALS

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) I assume there is a level of trepidation in approaching Los Campesinos! for the first time: the unnecessary exclamation point, the hyperactive delivery of frontman Gareth Campesinos!, the term "Welsh twee." It's enough to send even the bravest of souls scrambling for cover. But as someone who can recite every single word from songs with such lofty titles like "This Is How You Spell, 'HAHAHA, We Destroyed the Hopes and Dreams of a Generation of Faux-Romantics,'" I can assure you that there is nothing quite like the Campesinos! Their dizzying pop songs ignore traditional rules of pace and structure and instead just unfurl as glorious exercises in exuberant songwriting and jittery energy. They might be the only band that gets a pass on the Jarvis Cocker lyrical decree ("Please do not read the lyrics whilst listening to the recordings"), as Gareth frantically blurts out gems such as "I think we need more post-coital and less post-rock/Feels like the buildup takes forever, but you never touch my cock," or the particularly apt "Four sweaty boys with guitars tell me nothing about my life." It might be a lot to digest at first, but trust me, you will fall for Los Campesinos! EAC Also see My, What a Busy Week!