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Monday, October 13
It’s that haunted time of year, which means it’s the perfect month for L.A. band PLaNETS to take over Mondays at the Satellite. At heart — surely a brooding, wounded heart — PLaNETS make glammy, theatrical rock, which comes off like The Cramps fed through the same machines that made Iggy’s The Idiot and Bowie’s Low, a creepy-crawly soundtrack for a big stage at the end of the world. Live, they’re a different animal or, more accurately, several kinds of animals … or zombies, or robots, depending on who’s dressing up as what. Call it music by and for people who might be ready to wear costumes all year round but who really bring out the big guns (and fangs and batwings) in October. —Chris Ziegler
Tuesday, October 14
Last October, West Coast production legend and innovator DJ Quik tweeted that he was selling all of his musical equipment. In a 2013 interview with HipHopDX, Quik made it clear that he wasn’t retiring, just focusing on his own work: “I get paid for engineering and mixing people’s records, and there used to be a king’s ransom in that back in the day. Now, there is so little that it’s not important.” Quik defined the early ’90s with party classics such as “Tonite” and “Jus Lyke Compton.” His signature, synth-laden production style can be heard on many a hip-hop classic, including Tupac’s All Eyez on Me and Jay Z’s The Black Album. Earlier this month, Quik released the chorus-less, funk-infused single “Pet Sematary” (named for the Stephen King novel). Tonight’s show celebrates the release of his latest, The Midnight Life. —Jacqueline Michael Whatley
Wednesday, October 15
Southern Lord Showcase
Founded by Greg Anderson (Sunn O))), Goatsnake) in 1997, Los Angeles label Southern Lord Records continues to be one of the pioneering forces in metal by championing tripped-out stoner doom, dirty hardcore punk and just plain esoteric stuff. This show will celebrate L.A. legacy acts, with performances by ’80s Venice hardcore greats Excel — fresh off a reissue of their seminal 1987 debut, Split Image — and ’90s L.A. stoner doomsters Goatsnake. But we’re equally excited for performances from the new breed of Southern Lord insanity. New hardcore albums from Vancouver’s Baptists (Bloodmines) and L.A.’s own Obliterations (Poison Everything) are full of pit-stirring venom and grimy ugliness. Both records are spectacular feats of liveliness in a subgenre that often gets stuck spinning its wheels. If their live performances here are as powerful as their records, Baptists and Oblierations will make the old guard proud. —Jason Roche
Country singer-musician Marty Stuart is an odd cat. Part indefatigable tradition-bearer, part obsessive, tireless champion of the idiom’s surviving originators, there is no one in Nashville quite like him. A musical wunderkind who grew up on the bluegrass festival circuit and later broke out with his 1990 hit “Hillbilly Rock,” Stuart has enjoyed some significant collaborations, notably getting ornery honky-tonk renegade Merle Haggard into an all-acoustic mood for their 2007 Bluegrass Sessions and, that same year, working as producer on Opry legend Porter Wagoner’s beautiful, elegaic Wagonmaster, the veteran country star’s final release. With L.A.’s own ferociously talented picker Tony Gilkyson also on the bill, this rates as a formidable country music jubilee. —Jonny Whiteside
Thursday, October 16
Though mellow and midtempo compared with so much British dance music, trip-hop trailblazers Massive Attack can still bare teeth. The duo’s dogged political engagement across their 25-year career (their Facebook page currently invites uncensored debate about Palestine) is a reminder that even eyes-closed, escapist and gently psychedelic electronic music needn’t be shallow or hedonistic. Increasingly, MA are all about live performance; gaps between albums have consistently stretched, with seven years separating fourth full-length 100th Window and their most recent effort, 2010’s decidedly grown-up, borderline Gothic Heligoland. Onstage, founding members 3D and Daddy G, plus a rotating cast of vocalists and touring band members, summon a throbbing, evolving avalanche of sensory-overload hip-hop, dub and soul sensations, enhanced with voluptuous visual interpretations and bold social commentary. —Paul Rogers
Of Montreal are really from Athens, Georgia, but being geographically accurate is probably the last thing on bandleader Kevin Barnes’ busy mind. Barnes piles about a million cryptic references, poetic allusions, surreal imagery and cheeky asides into the trash compactor of his mind on the band’s most recent album, Lousy With Sylvianbriar. As befits a group that often appears onstage in colorful, quaintly eccentric costumes, Of Montreal wander freely from hazy pop reveries and psychedelic jangle into a weirdly enchanting blend of Dylanish wordplay, T. Rex bounce and Bowie-esque folk. Barnes could easily be describing himself when he sings, “From your first psychotic episode to your chugging your schizophrenia, it’s your dysphoric mania that makes you so likable.” —Falling James
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