Charles Mudede on Seattle hiphop in 2009:

What the bulk of the great albums of this year have in common is each is organized by a ruling concept. This does not mean they are concept albums, in the sense of Dr. Octagon's Dr. Octagonecologyst, Handsome Boy Modeling School's So, How's Your Girl, and other works designed by Dan the Automator. No, the rappers of the current moment are not playing roles that can be easily discarded on the next concept album. We get strange truths from the concepts made by these rappers/producers—the black Han Solo, Shabazz, the Dro Bots, the Cigar Rock Star. For them, the new world around us, a world that has gone through considerable changes, demands this unified and systematic approach to rap and beats.

Dave Segal on Wildildlife:

Wildildlife are doing their damnedest to expand the parameters of metal, in all its many permutations. And they're going to have a laugh or thousand while they're at it. A local power trio that would chuckle at that descriptor, Wildildlife may be the first band ever to draw comparisons to Melvins and Animal Collective—in highbrow UK magazine the Wire yet. And Wildildlife are cool with that—and with any other reference points tossed their way. Some such points might include Meat Puppets, Harvey Milk, and Butthole Surfers; I hear early Swans, early Earth, Hawkwind, and Killing Joke, too. Although mostly associated with the metal/stoner-rock scene—they're playing a showcase July 16 called Full Metal Discharge—Wildildlife's members absorb and appreciate all kinds of music. Creation Records' shoegaze heyday and Daft Punk have both made huge impacts on them, they've had San Francisco electro-house producers Hours of Worship remix their track "Nervous Buzzing," and they're even plotting a "rave & roll" side project.

Find out the week's noteworthy concerts and shows in Up & Coming, like tomorrow's show with Alaskas and tUnE-YaRdS:

(Vera) Alaskas (aka Dillon James Rego) builds tension and excitement through cleverly interwoven chants and primal rhythms. It's like early Animal Collective's campfire-psychedelia fever dreams transposed to the Northwest. "Aggressive post-grime tribal punk" runs his MySpace description, and it's not too far off the mark. In a world lousy with young weirdos trying their weird hands at lo-fi, non-chartbound pop, tUnE-YaRdS (aka Merrill Garbus) hovers near the top of the heap. She takes untutored stabs at songcraft, with so-called mistakes enhancing the final product. Ukulele is tUnE-YaRdS' main instrument on her bananas debut album, BiRd-BrAiNs, but she warps it into a rusty, guitarlike tone. The stereo field is further filled with odd percussion—thigh slaps? Beer-bottle clacks? Tupperware spanks?—and vocals ranging from wild glossolalia to trad-femme pretty to husky. She's one of the few current singers evoking the United States of America's great Dorothy Moskowitz. DAVE SEGAL

Fuckin in the Streets on the attempted art heist by the Abodox:

"I busted him on the spot and got nothing but a bunch of smart-ass conjecture. He told one of our regulars that he loved the painting and, since no one else could possibly appreciate its majesty, he decided to liberate it," says Josephes. "He put his time into it—the painting was secured to the wall via a mounting. His unleashing involved unscrewing the painting from the wall. This was not a drunken grab. It was a painstaking labor.

"When accosted outside, I was met with nothing but a smart-ass attitude. 'Yeah, I tried to steal your painting and I got caught,' he said. 'I don't know what the big deal is.' When I told him word would be getting out about this, he smiled even bigger and said yes, by all means, to let people know what he did. So here you go."

Michaelangelo Matos on the newest singles from Wye Oak, Tiye Phoenix and Walter Jones:

"The Award"
by Tiye Phoenix
(Babygrande)

A veteran MC from D.C. who's worked with Public Enemy (she helped write He Got Game), Mos Def, and Talib Kweli, Tiye Phoenix's long overdue debut, Half Woman/Half Amazin', is way uneven—too many ballads. At first glance, this seems like one, too. But despite the sunny, '70s-kissed keyboards, a sweet bass undertow, Chipmunk backing vocals, and Phoenix's mellifluous flow, it's anything but: Phoenix is in battle mode, and she's effortlessly quotable. How about "I'm operating smooth, I'm a female Kane/Y'all dudes can't move, like a derailed train"? Or "Destined to glisten, don't need your permission/I ignore you like an atheist ignoring a Christian"? You can keep going from there.

Data Breaker on Gel-Sol:

My introduction to Gel-Sol came with Music Made for You... and by You I Mean Me (recorded in 2003, but reissued by the esteemed and now-defunct UK label em:t in 2004). The disc lays out a luxurious banquet of rich synth swirls, languorous bass lines, and slackly funky beats. This is music for long-attention-span owners and those fond of subtly unhinging the doors of perception. It's deep and plush, poised between the chill-out room and the opium den—except for "Numby Numbs," which is an uncharacteristically revved-up cut animated by jagged rhythms and sprightly yet stabbing keyboard riffs. But Music Made for You is mostly geared for lounging in style, stratospherically. Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating (and giggling) in space.

Larry Mizell Jr on Tulsi and A-Trak:

Local MC Tulsi is back at 'em with a new EP, Nothing to No One, produced entirely by SpecsOne, which piques my interest (and it should be noted here that Specs as a true Seattle original and sonic iconoclast goes too often underappreciated). Tulsi's got a couple solid releases under his belt (Fresh Points on Life and Waterflow), but I think his mostly workmanlike flow would sound dope on Specs's dusty double-feature weirdness. Check the CD release at Chop Suey on July 17 with Specs, Thee Satisfaction, and DJ Able.

The next evening, one of my favorite Canadians ever, the inestimable turntable stylist A-Trak, eh, is cold rocking a party at Chop: the 10,000 Lb. Hamburger Tour featuring Treasure Fingers, Rye Rye, the Dowlz, and OK Dave. If you missed M.I.A.'s protégé Rye Rye at Neumos, here's your chance. This party is going to be insanely popping, or my name's not Orville Redenbacher.

Christopher DeLaurenti on Matt Shoemaker:

"It's not just about finding a new sound, but finding the right process to change a sound," insists Matt Shoemaker, one of Seattle's preeminent makers of experimental electronic music. The distinction often means the difference between a rote, standard-issue piece and a breathtaking composition. Electronic processing seems easy; anyone can yell through a delay unit and with a flick of the dial (or mouse click) retain just the echo (called the "wet" part of the signal) to create an instantly strange atmosphere.

Shoemaker, by contrast, is a virtuosic sound sculptor, polyphonically embedding processes from imperceptible shifts to startling, jagged transformations. "A field recording of birds," he explains, "resonates with people—everyone recognizes it. Start changing it, filtering, and gradually subtracting certain frequencies so it sounds thin and raspy, then new, maybe scary, things emerge. Listeners hear that; the altered resonance becomes a specific feeling."

Casey Catherwood on Summer Cats:

With this week's release of Songs for Tuesdays, the debut LP from Melbourne, Australia's Summer Cats, Slumberland continues its nefarious plan to take over your stereo. It's winter in the band's hometown, but true to their name, Summer Cats sound like they've never been cold in their lives. Songs for Tuesdays is packed full of skuzzy guitars, straightforward drums, and jacked-up keyboards in service of poppy, fun-bent tracks perfect for rocking a basement on a Friday night. As luck would have it, the band are bringing their shining faces to Seattle's New Crompton this Friday, July 17, and if their live show feels anything like their album sounds, wear your sunblock, 'cause shit's going to be HOT.

Also this week: Party Crasher gets patriotic! Check out Poster of the Week! Remember to check our searchable online calendar for more music, shows and live DJs.