From Data Breaker:

Sun Circle, Story of Rats, Eric Ostrowski, Aures

(Josephine) Sun Circle (Greg Davis and Zach Wallace) explore beatless space, but in a more expansive manner. Whereas Mem1 score the body's inner gurgles and expirations, Sun Circle, as their moniker implies, radiate solarized drones that wax and wane in intensity in subtle increments. The sound is akin to that of Davis's Kranky Records labelmate White Rainbow: Cursory listens could trigger knee-jerk accusations of "new age"—ism, but the music of both artists is too interesting and psychedelic for that tarnished term. More accurately, Sun Circle create a rarefied, spiritual strain of healing music whose only gods are Terry Riley and Pauline Oliveros. Check out Sun Circle's split 12-inch with Eleh, Fading Spectrum of Darkness/Parhelion (on Important Records), for ample proof of their gently ecstatic, peace-inducing vibe rations. DAVE SEGAL

From Up & Coming:

John Abercrombie Quartet

(Triple Door) In the '70s and '80s, guitarist John Abercrombie recorded for the impeccable ECM label, abetted by phenomenal players like drummers Billy Cobham and Jack DeJohnette, keyboardist Jan Hammer, bassist Dave Holland, guitarists John Scofield and Ralph Towner, and brass specialists Randy and Michael Brecker. On records like Timeless and Gateway, Abercrombie flaunted a fluid, crystalline style that could chill and enflame with equal adroitness. His work is marked by subtle melodic beauty and a quiet intensity that recalls Terje Rypdal's own ECM output. With his latest quartet, Abercrombie tempers some of his peak era's more outré excursions for a more refined, trad-jazz (and folk) approach. But his gorgeous, icy tone and incredible dexterity remain, making the man's live performances an exquisite pleasure. DAVE SEGAL

Symphony of the Superhero: Cut Chemist, Mateo Messina, the Northwest Symphony Orchestra

(Benaroya Hall) Born in Seattle, Mateo Messina makes his living as a soundtrack composer in L.A., where he's written music for such films as Juno and Thank You for Smoking. Once a year, Messina returns to his hometown, to write and produce—along with the Symphony Guild—an annual benefit concert for Seattle Children's Hospital. For the 12th annual benefit, Messina's presenting Symphony of the Superhero, a "magical musical journey" through heroism, featuring performances by Cut Chemist, the Northwest Symphony Orchestra, Northwest Chorale, Northwest Boychoir, and more. DAVID SCHMADER

Ghostland Observatory

(Showbox Sodo) This one time, a couple of Daft Punk's interns were messing around in their recording studio in Paris, working on some synth pads for the new Tron movie or whatever, when a mangy alley cat snuck in. They called the Parisian equivalent of animal control, they tried to get rid of the thing themselves, but nothing was working. After days of this cat interfering with their productions and knocking around in their synthesizers, the guys finally were forced to beat the animal to death with the cheapest, crappiest keyboard they could find. The cat squealed and howled and made an awful racket; the keyboard broke apart, making terrible bleeps and burbles; both poor things eventually died. Some tapes of the incident got out and so inspired Ghostland Observatory that the Texas duo re-create the sound live onstage, with the bonus of goofy outfits and lasers. ERIC GRANDY

The Raveonettes, Crocodiles

(Neumos) One St. Patrick's Day, I ended up alone on a friend's couch, in a dark room, peaking on psilocybin, listening to Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska on an old turntable. There was a large dust ball on the needle, and those haunting reverb-soaked melodies struggled to peek out beyond the fuzzy blocks of white noise. In that altered state, I'd never heard anything more beautiful—a lonesome, nostalgic cry that only periodically popped through the static, as if projected from some distant radio tower. The Raveonettes come close to harnessing that sound. Their charming '50s pop melodies run through a filter of skuzz and distortion, producing something that's simultaneously reminiscent of oldies radio and the haze of seedy, late-night soundtracks. BRIAN COOK

And there's always more in our complete music calendar listings.