PEGGY SUE, MANDOLIN ORANGE, THE MARINER'S CHILDREN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Brighton, England trio Peggy Sue's brand-new album is called Choir of Echoes, and the name certainly fits. Awash in reverb and slathered in indie emotion, Rosa Slade and Katy Young's harmonies are just the choral accompaniment you need to dilute a jarring Monday. Here's hoping it's an excellent week, everyone. DIRK VANDERHART
INCAN ABRAHAM, SAMA DAMS, JOHN BOWERS
Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Incan Abraham is the kind of outfit that gets its start in LA, but could easily become popular in Portland. Self-described as "dream/world/pop/hypnotica," Incan Abraham takes on the soft percussive quality of indie bands like Local Natives, while also sounding dreamy and introspective, in a similar vein to Beirut. Tracks off of their upcoming album, Tolerance, play with things like accordion and syncopated rhythms. Don't expect to go to this show to get loaded and crush a Tecate can against your forehead, but you can reasonably assume you'll meet some cute girls and ponder your next big career move. ROSE FINN
FALLING IN REVERSE, ESCAPE THE FATE, CHELSEA GRIN, SURVIVE THIS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) If you haven't listened to "Alone"—off of inconceivably inane metal-core band Falling in Reverse's latest LP Fashionably Late—you have yet to experience true sensory torment. It is half shitty post-hardcore, half shitty rap, and wholly awful. Falling in Reverse sounds like Norma Jean and Limp Bizkit had a child who was adopted and raised by One Direction. There is a fucking helicopter in the music video. It is such an unfocused combination of disparate and consistently horrible styles that it's almost indescribable. Frontman and sole constant member Ronnie Radke is either an ingenious troll or the world's most exquisite choad. Assuming it's not just one big Kaufman-esque front, there is virtually nothing likable about Radke or the music he creates: He writes songs about people on Twitter who don't like him, and is the perfect poster child for the contemptible state of mainstream punk—a misanthropic, out-of-control poseur with a criminal history and a really problematic persecution complex. MORGAN TROPER
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