See the poster children of Brooklyn sound, Dirty Projectors, at Music Hall of Williamsburg, 66 N. 6th St. (betw. Wythe & Kent Aves.), 718-486-540; 8, $15

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When I first heard Evangelicals’ sophomore release The Evening Descends in December of 2007, it sounded like the second coming of Arcade Fire. To my ears, it was the only album since Funeral capable of matching its intensity without sounding like a canned attempt at doing so. It brought Graham Parsons and Beethoven to mind in equal measure; it was marked by thematic cohesiveness, lyrical depth and an epicness that most other swing-for-the-fences-type indie acts come embarrassingly short of achieving. It had moments you just couldn’t totally shake: the opening bass line of “Skeleton Man;” the anguished, wailing coda to “Party Crashing,” the bitingly hilarious and totally unexpected satire of the “blind leading the blind” parable from the New Testament at the tail-end of “Bloodstream.” And I could go on like this.

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On its two albums, A Camp has a lilting, lush sound that wraps its pop sensibility in just enough indie packaging to make it the kind of music that should basically be played during every NPR program, all day, every day. Sure, it’s not what you’d call challenging to the listener, but everyone needs a few records they can play on a rainy day. It doesn’t hurt, I might add, that the band is fronted by the lovely Nina Persson, famous for her time as the lead singer of Swedish pop band the Cardigans, whose breathy voice and hint of coquettishness is the perfect topper to the band’s globe-trotting musical sensibility.

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There was a moment—one of those collective pant-shitting moments that only the truly great or deeply unstable ones can produce—in which the crowd at last night’s Jesus Lizard show was transfixed by the possibility of David Yow whipping his cock out.

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Not all hippies start jam bands, only the evil ones do.

Every day a new star is born. Charismatic, charming, talented—singer Alex Ebert of Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros has the qualities that make a star, and after seeing the band's performance at Bowery Ballroom on Tuesday night, it shouldn't take long before that happens.

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Tonight we have A Camp at Le Poisson Rouge, 158 Bleecker St. (betw. Sullivan & Thompson Sts.), 212-228-4854; 10, $15

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For a noisy, obscure-outside-the-scene kind of art rocker, it’s a situation fraught with danger and opportunity both: The crowd is primed for a rare and probably venue-wrecking set from some of the greatest rock ‘n’ roll ass-kickers of the past 20 years, and you’ve got to warm it up. By all logic, said ass-kickers should have fed the crowd a band capable of whipping them into a frothing mob. But said ass-kickers are the Jesus Lizard, and, amazingly, they think softening the crowd up should take a backseat to musical artistry and skill.

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Andy Kaufman persona Tony Clifton performs tonight with Vaginal Cream Davis and P.M.E. at Santos Party House, 100 Lafayette St. (betw. Walker & White Sts.), 212-584-5492; 8, $20

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It's hard to believe Peaches used to be an elementary school music and drama teacher. It's not that I don't think she'd be good with kids; I know I would've been thrilled to learn recorder from someone so stylin'. But watching her bounce off the walls at Terminal 5 Saturday night, it was apparent to all senses that she was born onstage in a glittery bodysuit, and anyone suggesting otherwise is flat out mistaken. 

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Slumberland Records, celebrating its 20th Anniversary Saturday night at Brooklyn’s Bell House, is everything quintessential about indie rock. Famous for releasing music from ‘90s acts like Boyracer, Aisler’s Set, Velocity Girl and Rocketship, and now The Pains of Being Pure At Heart and Crystal Stilts, Slumberland is a reliable source for aggressively melodic tracks about loneliness and heartbreak from twitchy geeks, often as not delivered on a candy-colored vinyl 45s. In other words, it’s very nearly perfect.

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