Bloc Party, Friday, April 24 and Saturday, April 25: Bloc PartyaE™s four members were all in their mid-twenties when they recorded their first two albums Silent Alarm and A Weekend in the City. So the genuine urgency and conviction with which they delivered indie pop songs on romance and politics deeply resonated with young adults in their home country of Great Britain and those overseas. The bandaE™s third album, Intimacy, which was released late last summer, is a far cry from the initial work that earned them a dedicated following. Less post-punk and more dance, it features prominent usage of multilayered vocals and instrumentation a la the Chemical Brothers. ItaE™s also the bandaE™s most personal work to date. On aEœTrojan Horse,aE frontman Kele Okereke bitterly observes aEœYou used to take off your watch before we made loveaE and on aEœSignsaE he mournfully confesses, aEœI see signs all the time/ That you’re not dead, you’re sleeping/ I believe in anything/ That brings you back home to me.aE ItaE™s a stunning effort from a band thataE™s shifted from shoving their fervor down everyoneaE™s throats to simply pulling them in with a quiet (and frankly, more appealing) brand of confidence. With Menomena. Showbox at the Market, 1426 First Ave. 628-3151. 7 p.m. $25. All ages. Note by ERIKA HOBART

Dan Deacon, Saturday, April 25: When Dan Deacon plays a show, heaE™s not really performing as much as playing summer camp director. Last time he was here in Seattle, it was at Bumbershoot 2008, where short sets are par for the course. And yet, within the confines of 45 minutes, Deacon somehow managed to squeeze in a relay race, a dance contest, and an enormous human arm tunnel that incorporated every single person in the audience. Of course, all this occurred accompanied by DeaconaE™s spastic synth compositions. Problem is, his albumsaE”even his latest offering, BromstaE”canaE™t compete with such a dynamic live experience. Supporting band Teeth Mountain, on the other hand, manage to be just as engaging even though they donaE™t offer the same degree of audience participation and (as they did at their last Seattle show) perform completely unplugged. That evening, the band set up their instruments on the floor of the Funhouse so that several different drummers could bang out complicated African rhythms on a shared drum kit in an incredible display of synchronicity. Though the drums were engaging enough on their own, they served as the backbone to acoustic, strings-driven melodies. Kate LevittaE”who, along with Andrew Burt, is one of the bandaE™s two permanent membersaE”hit the bass drum like a woman in a religious trance, making her a fascinating performer to watch. This pairing of completely synthesized sounds and completely organic, acoustic sounds may seem odd, but once you watch them work, youaE™ll find that nothing could be more natural. With Future Islands, Skeleton Breath. Vera Project, Seattle Center, Warren Ave. N. and Republican. 956-8372. 7:30 p.m. $11. All ages. Note by SARA BRICKNER

Mayer Hawthorne, Saturday, April 25: Mayer HawthorneaE™s got a mini-anthem on his hands in aEœJust AinaE™t Gonna Work Out,aE a weepy aE˜50s-ish slowdancer. In a retardedly wounded falsetto, he regrets to inform you he will be breaking up with your ass, but does it like a player putting on a puppy dog show. ItaE™s cute, and soaE™s the red, heart-shaped vinyl Stones Throw Records released it on. HawthorneaE™s voice, though, is no joke, and neither are those boom-crack drums. Hawthorne appears with old and new school beat scientists Dam Funk and James Pants, plus label boss Peanut Butter Wolf (who VJs as much as he DJs, these days). Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison St. 324-8000. 9 p.m. $16 adv., $18 dos. All ages. Note by ANDREW MATSON

The Black Lips, Saturday, April 25: Once upon a time, standing at the front at a Black Lips show put you in imminent danger of getting puked on, pissed on, or both. But that, bassist Jared Swilley told me in an interview last year, was only because, We really couldn’t play that well. Live, we were really, really bad. At the time, Swilley told me that the band has grown up some, and would like to be known for their music, rather than their youthful stage antics. Unfortunately, that’ll be tough, since their stage antics continue to get them into trouble. Not too long ago, the band got kicked out of IndiaaE”and not because lead singer Cole Alexander pulled a Hendrix and played the guitar with his cock, either. Alexander’s been known to make out with his bandmates onstage, and it was the public guy-on-guy action that earned them the boot. But the band keeps moving forward despite their enduring notoriety, and their latest album, 200 Million Thousand, proves that they’re trying to move on as musicians as well as people. While the album retains the band’s established lo-fi, garage aestheticaE” furthered by the band’s devotion to tape recordings rather than digital recordingsaE”the actual sound has regressed further into the realm of the fuzzy, psychedelic ’60s garage band. It’s an ambitious record that departs from the revivalist (flower) punk style the band’s known for, but as much as the Black Lips would like us to think they’ve changed, grown up, become more matureaE”itaE™s time to call bullshit. You may not get pissed on at their shows anymore, but if the band’s toned it down, itaE™s been done gradually and with great reluctance. With Flowers Forever, the Dutchess & the Duke. Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9442. 8 p.m., $13 adv. Note by SARA BRICKNER

Richard Buckner, Saturday, April 25: Richard BuckneraE™s image as the moody alt-country troubadour with the husky croak is firmly entrenched. Not only has the dude always sounded like a grizzled old man, in just about every picture out there he refuses to smile, often opting for more of a sneer. That said, recent years have seen the Brooklyn denizen drift from his roots in the hard-as-nails Texas country-folk of Townes Van Zandt, Joe Ely and Terry Allen. On 2006aE™s Meadow, the singer-songwriteraE™s second album for Merge Records, he filters blues, folk and country through modern rock. In fact, Buckner kind of sounds like Mark Lanegan, just not as tall and brooding. Good thing the Tractor Tavern has made this a seated show because this guy is a sonic barbiturate. With Dolorean. Tractor Tavern, 5213 Ballard Ave N.W., 789-3599. 6 p.m., $15. Note by JUSTIN F. FARRAR

Belphegor, Sunday, April 26: ItaE™s one thing to worship Satan. ItaE™s another to hate Jesus with the festering disgust of Austrian black metal outfit Belphegor. In a genre where over-the-top blasphemy is the whole point, it says a lot that Belphegor can push desecrating (and even defecating on) the cross to an all new level. If ever there were a cake to be awarded for hating Jesus, maggot infested and made of rotting Christ flesh as it would be, Belphegor would probably take it in spite of the stiff competition. Songs like Lucifer Incestus and Swarm of Rats, which equates Jesus with rat shit, illustrate the band’s sole preoccupation in no uncertain terms. For example, even as vocalist Helmuth gargles in German on the pricelessly-titled aEœSexdictator Lucifer,aE you know exactly what heaE™s talking about. Just in case, though, audio samples — the perfectly-timed orgasmic moan of one of SatanaE™s concubines, a pleased growl (or is it a burp?) from the Dark Lord himself after a round of coitus with said concubines — drive the point home with an utter lack of irony thataE™s both admirable and howlingly funny. For additional clarity, the bandname logo contains not one, but two upside-down crosses. Once an unthinkable crossover, blackened death metal is commonplace these days, but BelphegoraE™s blast-soaked sound still sounds passionate while the rest of the goat-herding pack goes through the motions of what has essentially become a Satanic mime routine. With Kreator, Exodus, Warbringer, Epicurean. El Corazon, 109 Eastlake Ave. E. 381-3094. 6 p.m., $23 adv., $25 dos. All ages. Note by SABY REYES-KULKARNI

My Bloody Valentine, Monday, April 27: Devotees of My Bloody Valentine’s blistering and infamously layered sound had 16 years to accept the band’s unique melodies had become a dead language. But the shoegazer gods returned to Earth in 2008, hoping to answer what-might-have-been had they kept going. The four-piece band formed in Ireland in 1984 and produced two albums by 1991. But notoriously obsessive frontman Kevin Shields and crew could never quite get album number three together. They vowed last year to try again, and their resurrection has begun with a smattering of shows around the states this year. But be warned: According to NME, one recent show ended with exiting concertgoers covering their ears following 15 minutes of deafening guitar and bass. Bring your earplugs. WaMu Theater, 800 Occidental Ave. S. 6:30 p.m., $38.50. All ages. Note by JOSH FARLEY

Yann Tiersen, Tuesday, April 28: Classically trained Frenchman Yann Tiersen is probably best known in the U.S. for composing the soundtrack for the movie Amelie. His score aE“ which weaved together piano, accordion, strings, various toy instruments, even typewriters and drew from European folk and classical melodies and textures aE“ was at turns whimsical, breezy, buoyant, and bittersweet, and really was the perfect accompaniment to all those saturated colors, the filmaE™s imaginative premise, and star Audrey TautouaE™s magnetic performance. Tiersen aE“ whose musical tastes also include semi-standard rock and experimental ambient minimalism (heaE™s fond of futzing with found sounds) aE“ has made several solo albums, done other soundtracks, and collaborated with the likes of Cocteau Twins singer Elizabeth Fraser and TindersticksaE™ Stuart Staples. If tonightaE™s show is anything like his recorded material, it should be quite magical and mesmerizing. With Asobi Seksu. Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9442. 8 p.m., $15 adv. All ages balcony. Note by MICHAEL ALAN GOLDBERG

Pinetop Perkins, Tuesday, April 28 and Wednesday, April 29: More or less singlehandedly responsible for setting Ike Turner on a musical path, itaE™s no small miracle (though not necessarily a surprise) that veteran blues pianist Pinetop Perkins is still a creature of the stage. When schoolboy-aged Turner and his friend Ernest Lane heard PerkinsaE™ playing wafting up from LaneaE™s fatheraE™s basement on their way home from school one day in the late aE˜30s, two lifelong musical careers were born on the spot. Transfixed by PerkinsaE™ piano playing, the lads wandered downstairs, where Perkins dutifully taught them both how to play. Now, as Perkins approaches 96 years old, still on a daily regimen of cigarettes and McDonaldaE™s, mind you, he represents the last of the front-line Mississippi bluesmen. And if you didnaE™t know it already, Perkins tells you so himself on his aptly titled 2004/2007 live album, Last of the Great Mississippi Delta Bluesmen. Arguably most well-known as Muddy WatersaE™ sideman from 1969 to 1980 (as the replacement for Otis Spann), Perkins has also done notable support work for the likes of Earl Hooker, Robert Knighthawk, and B.B. King. PerkinsaE™ distinct, quirky phrasing — which stems in part from an arm injury he sustained early in his career — is now considered a pillar of the boogie woogie style. He didnaE™t aEœgo soloaE until 1988, but since then Perkins has put out albums at a rapid clip in a rare and delightful example of a musician finding success in his later years. With Willie Big Eyes Smith. Dimitriou’s Jazz Alley, 2033 Sixth Ave. 7:30 p.m. $25.50. All ages. Note by SABY REYES-KULKARNI