(Columbia City Theater) It's a shame this show isn't happening in the middle of the woods, around the safety of a warm campfire, because England's Douglas Firs sound like a band made up of the monsters that lurk in the shadows while you roast your marshmallows. You can feel them behind you—you can feel them circling you, but you can't exactly tell what or where they are. It's something a little sinister, it's making your heart beat a little faster, but it probably won't hurt you. Their latest full-length, The Furious Sound, makes me think of Kithkin's percussion-heavy, tribal sounds, but spookier and maybe a little warped. You should probably avoid dark corners during their set—who knows what'll be hiding in there?