In The Score:

Matt Shoemaker and Jesse Paul Miller
"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."

In Stranger Suggests:

A-Trak, Rye Rye, Treasure Fingers, the Dowlz, OK Dave

...Or, if you prefer your Canadians Kanye-endorsed, Chromeo-related, and DMC championship conquering, consider DJ A-Trak. On his two mix CDs so far this year (feeling lazy yet?), FabricLive 45 and Infinity+1, the DJ delves more exclusively into the kind of peak-time Francophillic electro he mashed-up with hiphop on 2007's Dirty South Dance. A-Trak could cut and scratch your face off for hours, but thankfully he never lets hot-dogging on the decks get in the way of rocking a party. With M.I.A. protégé Rye Rye and promising electro DJ/producer Treasure Fingers. (Chop Suey, 1325 E Madison St, 324-8000. 8 pm, $13, 21+.) ERIC GRANDY

Also in Up & Coming tonight:

The Weakerthans, Jason Collett, Black Swedes

(Neumos) If you like your indie rock literary and a little bit leftist (as you should), then you couldn't ask for much better than Winnipeg's the Weakerthans. Singer-songwriter John K. Samson, formerly of agit-pop punks Propagandhi, spins folky, personal ballads and barricade-holding punk anthems, filling both with heartfelt emotion and small but weighty lyrical details (the cruddy interior decorations of "Confessions of a Futon Revolutionist," the garage sale of memories on "Everything Must Go"). Live, the band are like veteran members of the Rock Machinists Local 426: reliable, hardworking, and skilled. They should get time and a half for encores. (Neumos, 925 E Pike St, 709-9467. 8 pm, $15, all ages.) ERIC GRANDY

Snoop Dogg, Slightly Stoopid, Stephen Marley, Mickey Avalon

(Gorge Amphitheatre) How can we not love the great Snoop Dogg? The man is a cultural force. He played a central role in launching gangsta rap and introducing pot to the hiphop world. His name is attached to three rap masterpieces. He has had a big impact on American English, for rizzle. He has made an impressive porn film (in one scene, he raps as a couple fucks on a pool table) and a number of TV shows (one of which is Doggy Fizzle Televizzle), and he promotes a variety of products sold in convenience stores in black neighborhoods (the only place you find his flavored rolling papers). Snoop Dogg is the essence of ghetto capitalism. CHARLES MUDEDE

Death Cab for Cutie, the New Pornographers, Ra Ra Riot

(Marymoor Park) When my mom's cell phone rings, it plays Death Cab for Cutie's "I Will Possess Your Heart." Narrow Stairs is one of her favorite records (along with the Mamma Mia! soundtrack); she sings along with every word, and my parents will be attending this concert. All this is funny, of course, because in 1999, when my friends and I would drive for hours to Bellingham or Kirkland or wherever to see the band play, my mom, who had no idea back then that Death Cab for Cutie were her favorite band, would quip, "Death Cab for Cutie?" and assume I was selling my soul to some kind of black-metal band. I see how it is—now that DCFC have sold at least a million records and reached number one on the Billboard charts, and singer Ben Gibbard is engaged to one of the hottest girls in Hollywood (Zooey Deschanel, natch), it's totally okay to like them. Whatever, Mom.MEGAN SELING

Eyes, Pink Mountain, Prehistoric Horse

(Josephine) Prehistoric Horse (David Grollman, Valerie Kuehne, and Lucio Menegon) are an improv trio from NYC and Oakland who generate spasmodic bursts of clatter and skree via cello, drums, and guitar, typically played in ways that would make conventional music teachers shudder in horror. Oakland quintet Pink Mountain—featuring Quasi's Sam Coomes and Gino Robair (sometimes drummer for Tom Waits)—create a truculent, thorny strain of noise rock that occasionally breaks out into something like an attractive melody that your jazz-lovin' math prof could whistle. But mostly it is majestically chaotic. Eyes: I tried to hear your music, but you proved to be too common and elusive to locate on the WWW. Band-name FAIL. DAVE SEGAL

tUnE-YaRdS, Alaskas, Dash

(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

For more live music and shows, check our searchable online calendar.