Ben Gibbard

(Crocodile) Ben Gibbard's life began in Bremerton, Washington, and his musical career blossomed in the sleepy college town of Bellingham, Washington. Since then, the Death Cab for Cutie frontman has outgrown the Pacific Northwest and become a national treasure with both Death Cab and the Postal Service—ridiculously famous bands that can at this point pretty much get away with whatever they want and still make fans swoon. He married a gorgeous Hollywood starlet, occasionally gets name-dropped in gossip magazines like Us and Star, and could basically tell Seattle to go fuck itself. Instead, tonight he plays an intimate solo show to raise money for the local nonprofit Teen Feed. I still love Ben Gibbard, because Ben Gibbard still loves Seattle. MEGAN SELING

The Heavy, Wallpaper, Wild Orchid Children

(Showbox at the Market) Britain's the Heavy are just a straight-up, unironic rock-and-soul unit that burns through heard-it-all-before cynicism with sheer determination, intensity, undeniable chops, and a vocalist who sounds like a slightly huskier Curtis Mayfield. There's something about the Heavy's weighty aura, sooty sound, and gritty soul that reeks of Detroit acts like Funkadelic and Rare Earth, which is never a bad thing. One senses that the Heavy will bring it live, in boldfaced italics. Seattle's Wild Orchid Children have a new album, The Wild Orchid Children Are Alexander Supertramp, dropping November 9 on Equal Vision. It harnesses the sextet's vortical, humid psychedelic prog into songs of immense momentousness, as exemplified by the 18-minute "Black Shiny FBI Shoes." Poor Wallpaper, sandwiched between two supercharged forces of nature. DAVE SEGAL

Lyrics Born, Rakaa

(Neumos) Lyrics Born has surpassed Blackalicious and DJ Shadow as the loudest and most visible representative of subterraneous rap royal family Quannum Records. And while he's definitely the funkiest of the crew, that's a more recent development. Seemingly gone are the days of LB delivering a gravelly, gruff verse to end all verses (see: "Balcony Beach"). Instead, we're left with a strange funk/pop hybrid that, while always working well in a live setting, doesn't exactly play to his strengths. He's always had the funk in him, but it worked better when delivered in a subdued way, slowly bubbling to the top (see: "Lady Don't Tek No" by Latyrx) rather than the bombastic, sickly sweet semi-funk sucrose he so readily displays these days. I miss old LB. KALEB GUBERNICK