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Monday, October 20

L.A. post-post hardcore crew Aeges’ new Above & Down Below (Mylene Sheath) finds the band in newly inspired and jacked-up mode, with a new drummer and guitarist kicking it into gloriously high gear on tracks that, as on their much-praised 2012 debut album The Bridge, feature melodic and even semi-anthemic tunes that don’t skimp on slamming riffage and massive low-end boom. Above is one of the most well-produced records you’ll hear all year, awash in great, nonstandard power chords and supremely satisfying bass tones. But all this inventively crafted heaviness can be savored at the band’s live shows, too, which stomp like a veritable beast. This free show is part of Aeges’ monthlong residency at the Silverlake Lounge; tonight also features The Vitals, True Rivals and Hellbenders. —John Payne


Tuesday, October 21

Much like her mentors and former tour mates The Weeknd, Jillian Rose Banks is part of a wave of nu-soul singers who filter their R&B reveries through a synthesized, hip-hop lens. “So I got edges that scratch,” she purrs. “But I’m so tired of eating all of my misspoken words.” Even as she scratches out her own identity and finds herself “beggin’ for thread to sew this hole up that you ripped in my head,” the accompanying music is often sleek and smoothly soothing, a lulling contrast to her restless mind. Banks’ full-length debut, Goddess, brims with mysterious, moody and shadowy idylls such as “Drowning” and “Brain.” On the title track, she anoints herself a goddess, even as she struggles with self-doubt. Also Wednesday, Oct. 22. —Falling James

Sinkane’s slippery grooves have their roots in Africa, as does their creator, the London-born, Sudan-bred, Brooklyn-based musician Ahmed Gallab. But calling his music Afrobeat or Afro-pop would be far too reductive. On Mean Love, his second album for James Murphy’s DFA Records, he layers funky guitar and clavinet hooks, swaying Caribbean rhythms, Hawaiian slack-key guitar and lovers rock falsetto croons to create a sound that’s like sipping piña coladas with Fela Kuti, David Byrne and Johnny “I Can See Clearly Now” Nash. Where his previous DFA effort, 2012’s Mars, relied on hypnotic grooves and splashes of space-jazz for its most memorable moments (and hopefully he’s still playing the relentless “Making Time” in his live sets), Mean Love finds Gallab exploring melody and songcraft, especially on such swooning island reveries as “Young Trouble” and the Motown-meets-Kingston title track. —Andy Hermann


Wednesday, October 22

TV on the Radio
“I’m a happy idiot, waving at cars,” Tunde Adebimpe croons on TV on the Radio’s upcoming album, Seeds. “I’m going to bang my head to the wall till I feel nothing at all.” You can’t blame him for being in a daze after everything his group has been through in the past few years. The Brooklyn indie rockers are still recovering from the 2011 death of bassist Gerard Smith, even as the band continues to be celebrated. TV on the Radio have collaborated with many of their idols, including Trent Reznor and David Bowie, and singer-guitarist Kyp Malone has worked with such disparate musicians as folkie Jolie Holland and Malian guitar army Tinariwen. Adebimpe’s and Malone’s influences are all over the literal and figurative map, seamlessly roaming from punk and funk to the purest of pop. Also Thursday, Oct. 23. —Falling James

Thursday, October 23

The Melvins, Le Butcherettes
The Melvins still bring the thunder in their latest incarnation, joined now by Butthole Surfers’ Paul Leary and Jeff Pinkus on their new album, Hold It In. The group’s trademark sludgy, metallic opuses are twisted into further weirdness by the inclusion of the Buttholes, with a new tune such as “Bride of Crankenstein” living up to its title via plenty of horrific volume and menacing guitars. The strangeness multiplies on the cryptically titled tracks “Barcelonian Horseshoe Pit” and “Onions Make the Milk Taste Bad,” as The Melvins separate themselves from their hard-rock peers by fully embracing the savagery and hostility of punk, mixed with a little prog braininess. Speaking of savagery, Le Butcherettes live up to their name with a messy, and sometimes literally bloody, mélange of punk fury, percussive brutality and rabble-rousing, performance-art defiance. —Falling James

Rufus du Sol
Rufus du Sol operate differently from their dance-music counterparts. Instead of banging out predictable, recycled drops at quick intervals, the Australian trio takes its time crafting subtle, gentle grooves. Rufus du Sol’s debut album, Atlas, doesn’t draw from a wide selection of sounds, but it doesn’t need to. The bubbling synth gurgles and Tyrone Lindqvist’s moody vocals are enough to keep the house-y shuffle constant. Slinky album opener “Desert Night” is a nice accompaniment to the dark electronic love song “Sarah.” “Sundream” maintains the balmy summer vibes, contrasting against the spooky and trance-inducing “Imaginary Air.” Atlas is steady rather than building, which in the long (and short) run both maintains the listeners’ attention and keeps them in perpetual motion. —Lily Moayeri

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