Swollen Members, With Cool Nutz, Jay Barz. Neumos, 925 Pike St., 709-9467. 8 p.m. Free. Canadian hip-hop trio Swollen Members (Prevail, Mad Child, Rob the Viking) kick off their tour tonight in our fair city. With six albums and countless live shows under their belts, these vets have earned a well-deserved place in the indie pantheon (to say nothing of their induction into the Rock Steady Crew early in their career). Swollen's latest full-length, last year's Armed to the Teeth, saw the boys dropping "Bollywood Chick," a highly sexualized ode to Indian cinema hotties with decent dance moves, as its first single. Featuring Tech N9ne, it's classic party rap--good, stupid fun. KEVIN CAPPDarude, Trinity Nightclub, 111 Yesler Way, 447-4140. 9 p.m. Free.
As exhibited on his debut disc, 2001's Before the Storm, Finnish DJ and producer Darude (real name: Ville Virtanen) is known for his soaring trance tracks--magnum opuses whose synths flash like heat lightning. Roughly nine years later, Darude is still giving his production a similar charge. His remix of J Nitti's "No More Comin' Down" (released this month and featuring Rowetta's golden pipes) is a big, high-energy disco banger that pulses with a progressive style perfect for losing your shit on the dance floor. Not exactly thought-provoking stuff, true, but at least it's not boring. Besides, it's doubtful that the clubbers on hand at Trinity tonight are there for a lesson in the outer realms of electronic music. KEVIN CAPP
Moon Duo, With Du Hexen Hase, Midday Veil. JewelBox/Rendezvous, 2322 Second Ave., 441-5823. $7. 10 p.m.
A worthy counterpart to guitarist Erik "Ripley" Johnson's work in Wooden Shjips, his collaboration with Sanae Yamada mines a mellower, more introverted side of the slow-burn psych so close to Johnson's heart. Formed just last year, Moon Duo released a 12-inch single and an EP on two different labels before migrating to Woodsist for the new four-song, 29-minute album Escape. Set quietly swirling, each track stokes a delirious drone from varying shades of guitars, drums, and keys. Different moments reference the hypnotic tug of Silver Apples, Suicide, or Can, while Johnson's vocals manifest themselves merely as incidental wisps or atmospheric undercurrents. When a reverb-soaked tambourine beat can hold one's attention for seven minutes, as on "In the Trees," a band is definitely doing something right. DOUG WALLEN