THE KIDS, MEAN JEANS, CHEMICALS, SEX CRIME
(Star Theater, 13 NW 6th) Nearly forgotten Belgian punk legends the Kids are something of a secret handshake band among punk/power-pop enthusiasts, for a few very good reasons; the first being that the group's records are some of the rarest and most coveted from the era. The second is that the band absolutely rips: Here is a band, more or less isolated from the rest of the first-wave punk movement, who released a 25-minute debut record in 1979 (featuring classics like "Fascist Cops" and "Do You Love the Nazis?") that's worlds snottier than their English and American counterparts. But it's on their fourth record, Blackout, where the Kids struck chiming, power-pop gold with the closest they got to a ubiquitous pop single, "There Will Be No Next Time"'—now that's a hook. MORGAN TROPER

BEACHWOOD SPARKS, THE PARSON RED HEADS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Beachwood Sparks have situated themselves at that fertile intersection where folk rock, pop, psychedelia, country, and Beach Boys-style harmonies all come together. The Byrds famously discovered this territory on 1968's classic The Notorious Byrd Brothers, but that fractious band was only able to stay put in that location for the half-hour of that album's runtime. Several decades later, Beachwood Sparks rediscovered the outpost and set up a permanent settlement, claiming it as their own, and breaking only for a hiatus between 2002's Make the Cowboy Robots Cry EP and 2012's full-length The Tarnished Gold. That most recent record is an infatuating slab of space-cowboy sunshine, as true a bit of California as anything from the Golden State. NED LANNAMANN

COOL NUTZ, DJ FATBOY, BEEJAN, JUMA BLAQ, 5 LINE ENT, MANIAC LOK, DREA STEVES
(Ash Street Saloon, 225 SW Ash) Cool Nutz is considered the godfather of the Portland rap scene, a fitting title considering he basically created it from the ground up with childhood friend Bosko. It's an exercise in futility to introduce him to most, as he is to Portland hiphop what Sir Mix-a-Lot is to Seattle. Nutz alludes to this on the single "Young Mix-a-Lot," from his latest full-length, Bars. Speaking of Seattle, Nutz will visit there early next month as a featured speaker on a Grammy Academy panel explaining how to build a professional network. Tonight, however, finds him celebrating the release of the aforementioned Bars, which was mostly recorded in tour stops in Europe (Norway, Amsterdam, and Copenhagen) and the West Coast, featuring production from Norwegian producer Hi-Q and local track master Terminill. RYAN FEIGH

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BLUE CRANES, BILLYGOAT, GOLDEN RETRIEVER
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Read our article on Blue Cranes.

FLYING LOTUS, THUNDERCAT, TEEBS
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Steven Ellison, AKA Flying Lotus, makes sounds with his laptop you'd be hard pressed to create with a bottle of Adderall and limitless magical powers. It's meticulous, vaguely experimental stuff—jarring on first listen, but familiar soon enough. And Lotus' work is only going to get more familiar—he'll have his own dedicated radio station in the upcoming Grand Theft Auto V. DIRK VANDERHART

KEEP YOUR FORK, THERE'S PIE
(Velo Cult, 1969 NE 42nd) It's pretty tough to dislike a band that cheerfully calls itself Keep Your Fork, There's Pie, and it's even tougher once you hear the Portland sextet's new album, the guileless, uplifting We Want You to Know. Marrying soul-pop and junk-folk sounds, the record sounds homespun in all the best ways—kind of like an impromptu backyard barbecue sing-along before your friends get too sloppy. (For good measure, there's a tune called "Monopolowa," showing that the Forkers have good taste in affordable vodka, as well.) The title track has a solid backbeat and a fuzz-guitar lead to accompany the band's ubiquitous banjo strum, offering the kind of harmony-laden pop confection that will appeal to fans of AgesandAges. Tonight's record release show at bar/bike shop Velo Cult will prove that We Want You to Know isn't simply as good as an extra slice of pie—it's better. NED LANNAMANN

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VAMPIRE WEEKEND, HIGH HIGHS
(Keller Auditorium, 222 SW Clay) Nobody expected Vampire Weekend's third album to be this good, especially with the title Modern Vampires of the City. Yet the New York boat-shoe prep-poppers—who even recorded part of the new album on blue-blood resort isle Martha's Vineyard—have delivered their best work yet, a mature, nuanced, and of course, catchy work that makes good on all their early promise. NED LANNAMANN

DEVENDRA BANHART, RODRIGO AMARANTE
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Those that rock out to Andrew Bird, whisk their omelets to Vetiver, and bone all night to Fleet Foxes must also smoke joints in their beds to Devendra Banhart. His songwriting is sweet and melancholy, like the day your seventh-grade girlfriend broke up with you. While Banhart's style floats in between indie and folk, his years growing up in Venezuela paved the way for his Latin-inspired tracks (which still pepper his latest album, Mala). What makes him worthwhile aren't his collaborations with Vetiver, Megapuss, or ex-girlfriend Natalie Portman; it's that somewhere underneath all that hair (since shorn off) and quiet strumming is a very crazy, dynamic musician whose sound offers more complexity than all those other dudes with guitars. ROSE FINN

ARIEL PINK, PURPLE PILGRIMS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Prior to the release of 2010's Before Today, any mention of Ariel Pink being a "pop genius" was laughable. Lo-fi doesn't even begin to describe his early records, which are dense to the point of being impenetrable. Before Today, though, exposed Ariel Pink to the world for what he really is: a chameleonic, stylistically fickle pop almanac, cut from the same cloth as an artist like Prince, and whose immense, effusive talent had been constricted up to that point by a self-imposed cassette-for-the-sake-of-it servitude. Ariel Pink's newest record, Mature Themes, is an exquisite follow-up and companion to Before Today, with pop-of-the-past-pillaging that ranges from the Byrds ("Only in My Dreams") to Zappa ("Schnitzel Boogie") and everyone in between. MORGAN TROPER

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YOUTH LAGOON, SWAHILI
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Read our article on Youth Lagoon.

RED FANG, GAYTHEIST
(White Owl Social Club, 1305 SE 8th) The metal-tinged power rock of Gaytheist is one of those purely pleasurable things in life—like ice cream, or Lee Van Cleef. The Portland trio's latest album Hold Me... But Not So Tight was just released on Seattle-based label Good to Die Records, and it sees outspoken gay frontman Jason Rivera leading the stampede on another collection of roaring, heavy tunes that joyously bumps the levels into the red. It's a shame tonight's de facto record-release show is already sold out, since as many people as possible should be exposed to the earcrushing delight that is Gaytheist, but they remain one of Portland's most prolific and frequently performing bands; their next local show will be within your grasp. Headliners Red Fang have just announced their third album will come out later this year on Relapse, to be produced by the Decemberists' Chris Funk, who also helmed their last one, Murder the Mountains. NED LANNAMANN Also see My, What a Busy Week!

AKRON/FAMILY, AVI BUFFALO,
M. GEDDES GENGRAS
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Akron/Family decided to throw restraint out the window when recording their sixth album, Sub Verses. Loud, untidy, and surprising, the album is experimental and masculine. The best thing about A/F has always been their ability to focus on not giving a shit about popular opinion. While many of their Brooklyn peers tailor albums to be cachet magnets, Akron/Family—some of whom live, or have lived, in Portland—continue to innovate, constantly changing the landscape behind their instantly recognizable three-part harmonies. Those thrilling vocals are still the heart of Sub Verses, but it makes good use of the big, propulsive drums and distorted guitars of less eccentric American rock bands. Avi Buffalo, the moniker/band of Avi Zahner-Isenberg, emerged several years ago with a charming self-titled album of lo-fi pop. Thanks to its low-key sincerity, it managed to ride the wave of whimsy that was happening at the time without coming across as the least bit annoying. REBECCA WILSON

BLACK MOTH SUPER RAINBOW, THE HOOD INTERNET, OSCILLATOR BUG
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE César E. Chávez) Enigmatic Pittsburgh oddballs Black Moth Super Rainbow's hushed, synth-led experiments with psychedelic electro-pop are engrossing, sinister, and strangely accessible on their most recent effort Cobra Juicy. If you can fight your way through their die-hard fans to see them at the Hawthorne, there's every chance you'll get an unsettling yet blissful contact high. ALEX ROSS

SHOUT OUT LOUDS, HAERTS
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Daft Punk's much anticipated album Random Access Memories is physically released in the US today, and it's one of the biggest musical disappointments in recent memory, in which the French EDM pioneers opt for a lightly disco-tinged, incredibly repetitive album of soft rock that would send Christopher Cross into snoozes of boredom. While it seems obvious Daft Punk is reaching for the sort of jetstream adult-contempo that likely filled their parents' record collection (Serge Gainsbourg, Air Supply, Alan Parsons Project, possibly Floyd), they approach it like EDM, locking in their programmed, quantized sequences and letting them play for minutes on end with absolutely no development and no drama. For a completely successful, absolutely lovely version of the kind of airbrushed, slick, easy-listening Europop that Daft Punk has utterly bungled, turn your ears instead to Shout Out Louds. The Stockholm quintet's fourth album, Optica, is a gorgeous, wide-eyed, perfectly posed collection of gentle rock with not a single mussed hair or note out of place. Eighties-gazing singles like "Illusions" and "Walking in Your Footsteps" continue Shout Out Louds' string of wistful, highly processed pop songs, done with absolute mastery. NED LANNAMANN

AND AND AND, SAMA DAMS
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) Though some musicians sound undeniably better with the benefit of a production studio and engineers, And And And sound drastically different. This can be a good thing. For example, I sometimes enjoy hearing their songs played at a relatively soft level, and I think the arrangements on Lost glow with the warmth of 1,000 sunsets. The downside is that the recordings capture nothing of the depravity, the loudness, the punk-rock spirit of their live shows. Not until now. In a fortunate development for posterity, And And And are the latest installment of Live from the Banana Stand, that beloved local series of sonic time capsules in the form of live albums. Finally, I can fit the frenzied chaos of And And And right in my pocket. There are several new and unreleased songs here, but the real pleasure is the raw, unfiltered versions of songs that I've grown so used to hearing in their mixed-and-mastered state. REBECCA WILSON

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