You know, there were clues that Cheese on Bread was gonna leave us. Like that part of "Where the Fuck Are They?" where the acoustic duo is lamenting the lack of dateworthy boys, with Sara FitzSimmons cooing, "They're in L.A." and Dan Fishback countering, "They're in New York." By next month, both will be settled into their supposed boytopias. (He already moved to Brooklyn and put out a solo album; she's touring her way to the City of Angels with another pop project, Homesick Elephant.) So, for now, Saturday at Green Line is goodbye for Cheese on Bread, arguably West Philly's finest at mixing humor with heart, catchiness with smarts. That said they've got a new album due out in '07—check out "Samurai" in the latest Local Support podcast—so this "indefinite hiatus" just cannot last.

—Patrick Rapa

Yeah, he's the guy that made the catchy, angsty "Barely Breathing" a hit 10 years ago, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Sheik's fifth album, White Limousine, is his most diverse yet, melding tuneful love songs with visceral comments on war, the media and our consumer-driven culture.

—Nicole Pensiero

It's been a while since perennial power-pop sideman Tommy Keene focused on his own thing, but Crashing the Ether (Eleven Thirty) proves he hasn't lost his touch. Sweet, melodic guitars never get stale, and "Quit That Scene" and "I've Heard That Wind Blow Before" shimmer with a timeless jangle and crunch.

—M.J. Fine

Robinella & the CC String Band created some buzz with their 2003 self-titled debut, due in good part to Robinella Contreras' chameleonic voice, by turns smoky and dewy-fresh. Robinella—this time billed without the band named after her multi-instrumentalist hubby, Cruz (though they are still on the record)—recently released her follow-up, Solace for the Lonely (Dualtone Music Group), a decided move away from Americana/folk to straightforward pop.

—Nicole Pensiero

Yeah, the marquee name is War, but while I'm sure it'll be fun to dance in the street to "Low Rider," the real reason to hit the West Oak Lane Fest is to catch a quick overview of the Philly jazz scene. Just spend the day wandering among the four stages lining Ogontz Avenue, letting Bootsie blend into Byard, blend into Monette, blend into Odean.

—Shaun Brady

Yeah, they've got a tapping dancer and some clapping hands where the drum kit should be, but would you believe Tilly and the Wall's neither annoying nor gimmicky? It's true, or nearly so. See, the real gimmick here—as on the brand new Bottoms of Barrels (Team Love)—is their relentless, peculiar sincerity. Every other chorus is all five of them belting out earnestly poetic things like "Let us be free! Let us sing songs along!" It's not always so bright-eyed, but they mean every word.

—Patrick Rapa