Music Picks: Regina Carter, Madness, Melvins, Grace Woodroofe

Moab

THE SMELL

PHOTO BY TIMOTHY NORRIS

Gotye: See Thursday.

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More About

• Regina Carter
• Miike Snow
• Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival
• Ska
• Arts, Entertainment, and Media

Moab are an L.A. power trio powered by the kinds of primeval forces that have been sacred to cosmic rock explorers since the day guitarist Randy Holden filled an empty opera hall with Marshall amps and tried to crack open a vulnerable little piece of the universe. This is riff and drone, vibe and tone, and depth and mass arranged in just-so conjunction, and when it works, a single, roaring guitar note sounds like it goes on forever. Last year's debut Ab Ovo marks them as disciples of Sabbath (for sound, but Sir Lord Baltimore and Pentagram are roiling around in there, too) and Julian Cope (for psychological inspiration) across songs that sound like slo-mo footage of old nuke tests look. Which is: grainy, deadly, inhuman and LOUD. —Chris Ziegler

Regina Carter

NATE HOLDEN PERFORMING ARTS CENTER

Regina Carter is regarded as one of the best violinists in jazz anywhere in the world, and with good reason. Her extensive career has seen her work with Aretha Franklin, Lauryn Hill, Billy Joel and Mary J. Blige, among others, in addition to her own recordings. Carter's latest album, Reverse Thread, is an exploration of African folk melodies, adding an African kora harp and an accordion to her musical mix, and was funded with a grant from the MacArthur Foundation (which also has made a substantial commitment to an eventual new home for the Jazz Bakery, sponsor of this evening's concert). The Bakery's "Movable Feast" series lands tonight at a hidden jewel tucked away in South L.A., which is as good as any stage of less than 500 seats in Southern California. —Tom Meek

Also playing

WOODY GUTHRIE CENTENNIAL CONCERT at Club Nokia.

sun 4/15

Alcest

BLUE CAFÉ

During the early stages of their development, France's Alcest traveled down the left-hand path of pure black metal. As they evolved, band leader Neige (who on their new album, Les Voyages de l'Ame, plays everything but drums) steered the band into fashioning shoegaze-infused, post-rock dreamscapes. Alcest make their ambition work by underpinning their dreamy harmonies with momentary flashes of black metal. Neige mostly maintains a dulcet tone with his vocals and guitar work but will pepper his songs with black metal cries. Winterhalter, the other member of Alcest, keeps a mostly midtempo beat on drums but will occasionally break into blazing metallic outbursts (though never resorting to unnecessary blast beats). The band has perfected a balancing act that is the musical equivalent of a hypnotist who momentarily lulls you into mentally being on another plane but pulls you back into reality at the last second before you are lost forever. —Clint Mayher

mon 4/16

Madness

CLUB NOKIA

Madness might have been the lighthearted face of Britain's late-1970s ska revival — downright cheeky Monkees next to grittier 2 Tone genre mates the Specials and the Selecter — but their perky, wink-and-a-nudge pop continues to resonate (literally, in the case of a 1992 London reunion concert where the dancing of 75,000 fans was mistaken for an earthquake and damaged nearby buildings). Like Queen and Monty Python, Madness are a bona fide U.K. institution, complete with their own West End musical and an upcoming performance at Buckingham Palace, but they made their mark stateside, too, with a Top 10 hit (1982's wonderfully nostalgic "Our House") and a palpable influence on America's mid-'90s "third wave" ska scene. So expect tonight's inevitable mass sing-alongs to have an oddly mid-Atlantic accent. —Paul Rogers

Grace Woodroofe

BOOTLEG THEATER

Australian singer Grace Woodroofe hails from the other end of the Earth, or, to be more precise, Perth, which is about as far as one can get from Los Angeles and still be on the same planet. She croons acoustic folk songs like "I've Handled Myself Wrong" with a husky, weary voice that sums up and communicates all of the miles she's traveled. "I know I'm not the only one," she repeats like a mantra, as soothing ripples of guitar spread outward on the water of a quiet lake. Woodroofe plucks her guitar softly on "Oh My God" with a spare intimacy, which serves to highlight the grand melancholy of her rich and deeply bluesy vocals. Tonight, she continues with the third in a series of weekly shows during this month's residency at the Bootleg. —Falling James

Also playing

THE HIVES, THE RAPTURE at Glass House; BAND OF SKULLS, WE ARE AUGUSTINES at El Rey Theatre; MANCHESTER ORCHESTRA at the Music Box; ERIC HUTCHINSON at Hotel Café; ATARI TEENAGE RIOT at the Echoplex.

tue 4/17

Neon Indian, Housse de Racket

THE ECHOPLEX

With song titles like "Terminally Chill" and "Deadbeat Summer," it initially wasn't difficult to pin down the sound of Neon Indian, the project masterminded by Denton, Texas, native Alan Palomo. Goopy synthesizers and warmed-over tape warble set the tone for a woozy brand of sun-dappled, guitar-kissed psych, which was neither traditional rock nor electronica as we knew it. The blogs called it chillwave for short, and while Neon Indian were the exact embodiment of that word, last year's Era Extraña saw Palomo broadening his sound to gainful result, swapping out slackerly instincts for pop prowess and instrumental ambition. Tracks like "Hex Girlfriend" and "The Blindside Kiss" crackle with energy and swoon like shoegaze, even while maintaining the glossed-over drugginess of their predecessors. Opening is Parisian duo Housse de Racket, who (audibly) cut their teeth as studio players with Phoenix and Air. —Chris Martins