DJ Krush, Foscil, SunTzu Sound

(Neumos) Countering the technology-obsessed mindset of his home city of Tokyo, DJ Krush's music sounds as if it comes from the uncomplicated earth itself. He has an uncanny knack for bringing elements of nature into his work. Just listen to "Jugoya" from Milight, an album dropped during his stay on Mo' Wax, the Britain-based label known for its extensive and amazing instrumental hiphop, triphop, and electronic offerings. The track starts with a babbling brook and soft birdcalls weaving around each other before it's ultimately enveloped by an airy piano loop and a rock-solid drum beat. His music appears simple at first, but complexity abounds underneath—like nature itself. And as in nature, expect Krush's show to maintain a delicate balance between chaos and calm. KALEB GUBERNICK

Pillow Full of Drone: Vox Vespertinus, Joy Von Spain, Phønøn, Celadon, Sataray

(Visionary Dance Studio) In 1991, Mute Records issued a compilation titled The Tyranny of the Beat. Over the years, Data Breaker has been guilty of fostering this up-tempo'd tyranny, but sometimes it's good to take a break (pun intended) from rhythm's relentless propulsion and revel in beatless space. One of Seattle's most accomplished accomplices in this pursuit is Phønøn (aka multi-instrumentalist Chris Hanis). Phønøn's vaporous, enigmatic drones can be traced back to admitted Hanis favorites like Brian Eno, Robert Fripp, Jon Hassell, and Harold Budd (geniuses all), with attributes of metaphysical sci-fi author Philip K. Dick and surrealist filmmaker David Lynch factoring into his aesthetics. DAVE SEGALSee Data Breaker.

Team Gina, Punk Bunny, Black Barbie, Sap'N

(Comet) Tonight, local lesbian dance duo Team Gina play their last show ever. Gina Bling is, she says, going to "focus on my domestic duties—embroidering baby onesies and U-Hauling with my girlfriend," while bandmate Gina Genius is, well... unreachable for comment. According to the hilarious press release announcing their breakup, she's somewhere on the side of the road, begging for money. Anyway, the two had a pretty good run while it lasted, releasing two full-lengths and packing venues across the nation with their synchronized dance moves, neon leotards, and synth-heavy songs about the incestuous nature of the lesbian dating scene, among other topics. RIP, Team Gina. We'll wear black bars on our leg warmers in your memory. MEGAN SELING

Flexions, Bronze, Silk Flowers

(Black Lodge) Bronze are a Bay Area synth-and-drums trio whose songs typically feature eerie, spacey analog tones, bass drones, and rough, jazzy breakbeats, with echoing vocals floated over the top. They bring to mind Suicide or Silver Apples, although their songs tend to stretch out into more syrupy slow motion and reveal less clear hooks. NYC band Silk Flowers are equally synth-obsessed, but where Bronze sound thick and full and, well, good, Silk Flowers' recordings just sound like shit rattling around in a tin can. The drum-machine beats are impossibly thin, the synths skuzzy beyond tonality, their singer's Ian Curtis impersonation making Warsaw sound downright hi-fi—which is a shame, because the songs could actually be kind of good; it's hard to tell. With local dub-punk deconstructionists Flexions, which are now rounded out on drums by Truckasauras/Foscil's highly capable Tyler Swan. ERIC GRANDY

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

Prefuse 73, the Gaslamp Killer, VoicesVoices, Nordic Soul

(Neumos) "Hairy Faces (Stress)" (36 seconds), "NoNo" (14 seconds), "Half Up Front" (37 seconds), "Sexual Fantasy Scale" (45 seconds), "Get Em High" (30 seconds), "When Is a Good Time?" (47 seconds), "Oh Is It" (37 seconds), and "Fingertrip Trajectories" (41 seconds)—if each of these tracks from Prefuse 73's 2009 album Everything She Touched Turned Ampexian were expanded by three minutes, they would contribute to constituting the most important and lyrical record since Burial's 2006 debut full-length. Prefuse 73 has never failed us: All of his projects in the '00s were strong and beautiful, even his excursions into Catalonian pop as Savath y Savalas. But to run an amazing beat like "Get Em High" for just 30 seconds is wasteful and cruel. Do you know how many brothers would die to spit on a track like that? Please, let us never forget these important words: "Waste not, want not." CHARLES MUDEDE

See also: preview and Stranger Suggests

The Cribs, Jemina Pearl

(Showbox at the Market) Jemina Pearl was the sassy, adolescent frontwoman for Ecstatic Peace—approved Nashville brat punks Be Your Own Pet. Since that band's breakup, she's moved to Brooklyn and recorded a solo album, Break It Up, with some help from her old BYOP bandmate John Eatherly, and it's kind of a weird departure. Largely gone are BYOP's preternaturally spazzy punk freak-outs, replaced with glossy, only slightly rocky teen pop (Pearl's 22 years old). Pearl still lets out a righteous growl once in a while, but she mostly sings in a faintly twangy, sort of sneering voice, which has the effect of exposing some pretty wack lyrics. The Iggy Pop duet "I Hate People" is cute, a misanthropic love song set over what sounds like a lazy Strokes outtake, but mostly you just wonder what the fuck made elder punks like him and Thurston Moore sign on to Pearl's act. ERIC GRANDY

Hey Marseilles, Loch Lomond

(Crocodile) Local septet Hey Marseilles's songs are charmed with gusto and veered melodies, creating an orchestral-pop stomp aided by an electronic accordion (with MIDI). They've incorporated an upright bass into their show, and the associated Novoselic-esque bass tosses. Look for a vinyl remix of Hey Marseilles's full-length debut by Martin Feveyear in the spring. The band will also be heading to the East Coast, Canada, and SXSW for tours in the coming year. Mostly, though, they'll be working on bass tosses. Opening the evening of orchestral joie de vivre is Loch Lomond, a Portland group featuring mandolin, theremin, bass clarinet, and Ritchie Young's leaping vocals; their sound is arranged, emotive, and wizened from touring with the Decemberists. TRENT MOORMAN

The Lonely H, Massy Ferguson, SweetKiss Momma

(Sunset) Nobody bothered to tell the Lonely H that the country-rock craze of the 1970s ended. They haven't gotten the message that long-haired lead vocalists belting their hearts out about fucking and having fun has been frowned upon for at least 15 years now. The Lonely H's new album, Concrete Class, could have arrived in a time machine from the Lynyrd Skynyrd era. And you know what? You should really be okay with that. Certain things, like bandanna tank tops on way-too-tan blond chicks and lyrics like "Hey baby/Let me stomp on your boots/And make sure that they're worn" will never get old. PAUL CONSTANT

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