Black Heart Procession, Wednesday, November 11:Funny, but not too long ago, indie rock scribes were debating over Black Heart Procession's aEœgoth-nessaE. Of course, that was the late aE˜90s, the height of the pre-commodity indie rock (remember how mind-blowing it was to see The Flaming Lips on the cover of Magnet?) But indie rock was actually pretty damned rippinaE™ back then, back when The Shins were still called Flake Music and Devendra was still a teenager. Near the top of the heap was Black Heart Procession, a group of San Diegans who seemed to avoid sunlight and play dark, Nick Cave-y rock music more suited for our soggy terrain than the sunny SoCal they called home. Their latest album, Six, feels like a summation of all that made them great back in the dayaE”the grim, romantically distressed tone of their first three albums meshed with the bright, pop songsmithery of Amore del Tropico and The Spell. With Bellini, El Olio Wolof. Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison, 324-8005. 8 p.m. $12. Note by BRIAN J. BARR

Explode Into Colors, Wednesday, November 11:The Portland trio Explode Into Colors turns pop songwriting on its ear by reducing vocals to a mere background layer and throwing away the melody altogether. In its place are clattery drums and cymbals from two drummers, a chugging, baritone guitar, and woozy, reverb-heavy vocals. In this way, they have more in common with M.I.A than post-punk progenitors Mission of Burma, who headline this show. M.I.AaE™s combination of hip-hop, baile funk, and dancehall often means aborted melodies, using rhythms and shouted vocals to propel her songs instead. Explode Into Colors play similarly distilled rhythms. In a recent interview, vocalist Claudia Meza remarked, aEœWhen we started EIC, we wanted it to be an art project that could be a creative vehicle for all our interests, rather than just a band.aE Through collaborations with video installations and side projects in dance, book making, and fashion design, itaE™s no wonder their songs and performances come off so fresh and unusual. Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave. 441-7416. 8 p.m. $15 adv. Note by ERIK NEUMANN

Batrider, Thursday, Nov. 12:Itinerant by nature, New ZealandaE™s Batrider has steadily acquired and shed members as mainstay Sarah Chadwick has traversed the globe over the years. Following an initial stint in its native country, the band set up shop in Australia until a move to London presented Europe within clear striking distance. And so Batrider has settled for now, and even has a steady lineup in its current three-piece incarnation. This inaugural U.S. tour comes after the release of the bandaE™s new album, Why We CanaE™t Be Together, a spooky march towards collapse over the course of 14 tracks and two hidden ones. ChadwickaE™s cigarette-raked voice contorts in the service of bracing, personal lyrics, while grimy gobs of bass, guitar, and drums spatter on all sides. ItaE™s a misanthropic racket informed as much by blues and garage as botched relationships and careening benders. Amid so many songs and a confronting emotional core, Batrider doesnaE™t sand down a single rough edge. With Post Adolescence, Eighteen Individual Eyes, Stereo Sons. Comet Tavern, 922 E. Pike St., 322-9272. 9 p.m. $6. Note by DOUG WALLEN

Space Cowboy, Thursday, November 12:French DJ and producer Space Cowboy (Nicolas Dresti) is best known these days for being wingman to pop superstar Lady GaGa during her live performances. But he's actually been active in the club scene for over a decade, remixing hits by Paul McCartney, Marilyn Manson, and the Darkness into irresistible dance tracks. His new album, Digital Rock Star, is unapologetically self-indulgent, featuring glittery party anthems drenched in vocoder, heavy bass, and sharp synth. And heaE™s a dynamic live performer who thrives in the spotlightaE”especially when he doesnaE™t have to share it with GaGa. With LMFAO, Shwayze, Far East Movement, and Paradiso Girls. Showbox SoDo, 1700 1st Ave. S., 652-0444. 7 p.m. $18 adv./$20 DOS. All ages. Note by ERIKA HOBART

Mudhoney + Brothers Of The Sonic Cloth, Friday, November 13:In case you havenaE™t been paying attention, right now is a great time to be a Mudhoney fan. Not only did they recently release one of their most hard-hitting albums, The Lucky Ones (2008), but their lives shows have been raucous, incendiary affairs in which frontman Mark Arm has found his inner Iggy (Arm, however, remains fully clothed). On top of all that, their dear friends at Sub Pop wisely reissued (on vinyl, no less) Superfuzz Bigmuff (1988), Mudhoney (1989), and Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge (1990). ThataE™s a punk rock holy trinity on par with The Stooges, Fun House, and Raw Power. Recognize, fuckers! Sharing the bill tonight is Brothers of the Sonic Cloth, formed by local legend Tad Doyle of TAD fame. BOTSC pound out massive slabs of heavinessaE”itaE™s not exactly metal, but an awesomely huge noise nonetheless. Imagine if steamrollers formed a band in outer spaceaE¦thataE™s what TadaE™s new band sounds like. With Unnatural Helpers. Neumos, 925 Pike St. 709-9467. 8 p.m .$12 adv. Note by BRIAN J. BARR

The Dead Trees, Saturday, November 14:I could take the easy way out and say that the Dead Trees sound just like Pavement, and leave it at that. But that wouldnaE™t be entirely fair to the scruffy Portland-via-Boston quartet. Yes, theyaE™ve borrowed a fair amount of shambolic guitars, disheveled rhythms, languid vocals, and country-rock textures from Malkmus and company here and there, but they also have a sharp enough songwriting acumen and ear for other sounds aE“ grimy power-pop, riff-rock, and such Pavement source material as the Meat Puppets and Dinosaur Jr. aE“ to keep things interesting. I caught them last year opening for Little Joy, the side project of Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti (who like fellow Strokes-man Albert Hammond Jr. has been a fervent Dead Trees champion), and their set was spirited, sweaty, and charismatic. It was far less about hearing something thataE™s been done before than hearing something done exceptionally well. With the Whigs, the Features. Tractor Tavern, 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W. 789-3599. 9 p.m. $12 adv./$14 DOS. Note by MICHAEL ALAN GOLDBERG

Electric Six, Sunday, November 15:Listening to an Electric Six album is a bit like turning your iPod on shuffle aE“ take the bandaE™s sixth record, Kill. The songs nonchalantly jump from wailing grunge to the organ-riffing aEœMy Idea of FunaE to the disco flavor of aEœBody Shot.aE But what cements Electric SixaE™s sound together is the same thing thataE™s been garnering Kill a ton of enthusiastic reviews aE“ its aggressive and frenzied energy, commandeered by lead singer Dick ValentineaE™s flamboyant vocals. Lyrically, ValentineaE™s songwriting is infamously peculiar aE“ aEœSteal Your BonesaE is about cloning his lover (aEœEvolution rolls the dice/ But we can be so much more preciseaE) aE“ and he frequently employs head-scratching metaphors that rank rhyme higher than coherence (aEœCome a little closer/ Be my Kenny Rogers roasteraE). But no matter. The oddities are all wrapped up nicely on aEœOne Sick Puppy,aE in which Valentine howls, aEœI got into rock and roll aE˜cause IaE™m one sick puppy.aE With the Gay Blades and Millions of Brazillions. Neumos, 925 Pike St. 709-9467. 8 p.m. $12 adv. Note by E. THOMPSON

Fuck Buttons, Sunday, November 15:God bless the Bristol pub owner who first allowed Benjamin John Power and Andrew Hung aE“ the two wunderkinds behind Britain's boffo ambient-noise band aE“ to grace a stage (and, supposedly, to mark up the sandwich board outside said pub with the word fuck). It's what got them here, on tour supporting their second album, Tarot Sport, released by indie soothsayers All Tomorrow's Parties. But sight unseen, who's to believe that a pair of perpetually hoodied dudes who stand hunched over folding tables and futz around with laptops are worth even a first glance? Call it pretentiously performance-arty if you will; the bigger debate is exactly what to dub their sound, an airtight pastiche of drum beats, orchestral swooning, floor-rattling bass lines and occasional shrieks from the afterlife. Rainbow noise is a good one; sounds like the end of the world is another previously printed bon mot. And seeing them live will only cause you to emit a certain four-letter word. With Growing. Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison, 324-8005. 8 p.m. $10 adv/DOS. Note by ROSE MARTELLI

Julian Plenti, Monday, November 16:Julian Plenti, also known as Paul Banks of Interpol, has been doing his thing since the late '90s, actually pre-dating his more famous outfit by a couple of years. Of course, the quick and considerable fame generated by Interpol eclipsed the solo acoustic performances of Plenti, and Banks laid his alter ego aside. A few years back, Banks decided to dust off the Plenti persona, augmenting his solo material with a handful of friends, rounding the sound out with strings and brass, as well as the standard cadre of guitars and drums. The results are enough like Interpol for fans to find a bridge, but different enough to make PlentiaE™s debut, Julian Plenti Is. . .Skyscraper, a fitting departure. Among the more immediate differences is BanksaE™ singing style as Plenti. Largely eschewing the heady, affected-yet-affecting timbre his deep baritone so effectively employs in the service of InterpolaE™s noirish moods, Plenti sings here with a much cleaner, more direct approach. That sense of plain-spokenness is repeated in the music, which is much cleaner and lighter than what weaE™ve come to expect from Banks. Those adjectives largely detail the differences, but rest assured, they translate into an equally engaging set of songs, albeit one that fits a much different mood. With IaE™m In You. Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison, 324-8005. 8 p.m. $16 adv. All ages. Note by NICHOLAS HALL

Raphael Saadiq, Monday, November 16:Raphael Saadiq is a soulful R&B throwback who plays his music with integrity -- nobody's getting rich with an eight-piece band like he brought to Bumbershoot -- and without bitterness or nostalgia. He may sound like he just stepped off a plane that flew in from Detroit circa 1970, but he's not preaching, nor is he trying to preserve an endangered songbook like an embittered swing star of yesteryear. He's playing new songs with an old-school feel that are completely relevant for today, and hit so hard they'll make you sick. aEœI gave my mind and body to the music, he told SW's Brian J. Barr earlier this year. I wasn't really thinking about the label's reaction or if the TV bookers will get it or concert promoters or fans or whoever. Can't argue with that. Showbox SODO, 1700 First Ave. S. 382-7877. 8 p.m. $25 adv./$28 DOS. Note by CHRIS KORNELIS

Saul Williams, Monday, November 16:Despite the pioneering contributions of Bad Brains, Death, Fishbone, Suicidal Tendencies, and countless other bands featuring African-American musicians to punk rock and its many offshoots, the punk scene long seemed a bastion of whiteness; the black kids who did come out to shows and got involved in the lifestyle were viewed as curiosities or outsiders (what else is new?). That perception began to change several years ago with the excellent 2003 documentary Afro-Punk, which examined racial identity within punk-rock. Beginning in 2005, New York began hosting an annual Afro-Punk Festival to spotlight and celebrate bands and artists associated with the scene. Now, the fest is hitting the road for its first national tour. Joining the potent headliner aE“ spoken word artist, rocker, and MC Saul Williams aE“ are Led Zep acolytes Earl Greyhound, anti-folk hero Kimya Dawson, gloriously roaring art-punks American Fangs, and CX KiDTRONiK and Tchaka Diallo, whoaE™ll kick out a dynamic, Bambaataa/Bad Brains-inspired blend of electro, hip-hop, and punk. Neumos, 925 Pike St. 709-9467. 8 p.m. $15 adv. Note by MICHAEL ALAN GOLDBERG

Girls, Tuesday, November 17:Pitchfork loves Girls. KEXP and SPIN love Girls. And so youaE™ve got to be asking yourself, which is it aE“ great new band or flash in the pan? The truth is, your first listen to GirlsaE™ new album, Album, will reveal that much of the buzz is actually accurate aE“ the surfer/slacker songs are indeed sparse and breezy, replete with gentle guitar tones and springy melodies that recall, yes, Phil Specter, the Beach Boys, and the golden days of California in the aE˜60s. The record has peace, love and harmony written all over it. More importantly, though, frontman Christopher Owens more than lives up to all the indie-press hype aE“ despite the songsaE™ cheery sounds, OwensaE™ vocals are lugubrious and open-faced but stop short of being pathetic. From the shivering guitars of aEœMorning LightaE to the current single, aEœHellhole Ratrace,aE in which Owens somewhat shamefully confesses, aEœI got a sad song in my sweet heartaE¦I donaE™t wanna cry my whole life through,aE the music fairly bleeds out of your speakers. The critics got it right this time. With Dominant Legs. Neumos, 925 Pike St. 709-9467. 8 p.m. $12 adv. Note by E. THOMPSON