Is there some odd, recessive gene or neurochemical imbalance that makes guitar-guitar-bass-drums indie bands sound best at tiny bars? Like, so much so that the bars are starting to encroach on the studio? Take Nihilism Is Nothing to Worry About (Palentine), the debut from Austin's 1986. Mid-frenzy, I imagine sweaty syncopated audience handclaps, and the feedback-sustain fade-outs totally feel like they should be accompanied by exhausted cheers and clunking Heineken bottles. Maybe the science of these things will make sense when they play the Fire tomorrow.

Romance will be in the air when Michael Franks plays Zanzibar Blue to support his recent release Rendezvous in Rio (Koch), which features a breezy set of Brazilian-inspired tunes. As usual, Franks' cool, sexy voice croons evocative lyrics wrapped in luxurious rhythms and grooves. Rendezvous is Franks' 17th disc, and we may expect this journeyman singer-songwriter to muss about his formidable rep of original songs filled with smart witticisms and a whole heap of charm.

Shortly before Tyler Gibbons and Robin MacArthur moved to Philly for a spell, they recorded their acoustic-based songs in a Vermont barn and in friends' apartments. Most of For the Wicked's 14 songs capture that intimacy, but "Go-Cart Thrills" shows that they're not afraid to bring out the glockenspiel and rock.

To many people, explaining that Matthew Welch's bagpipe playing is more ethereal and fluid than the aggressive breathiness they're used to is about as much consolation as Yoko Ono singing ballads. If there's one thing that turns off challenge-averse music audiences more than improvised music, it's a bagpipe player. So this trio should bring out the most adventurous of ears.

The only messed-up, cartoon, gospel orchestral hip-hop duo outside of Sm'aalin Jiverson to be named for a former 76er (wait — A.I.'s still a Sixer?) is the twisted lyrical Gorillaz-like figment of Danger Mouse and Cee-Lo Green's fertile imagination. And St. Elsewhere (Downtown) the best album of 2006 so far. But that's not all: Gnarls do a mean cover of "Hungry Like the Wolf." And Mike Patton's brutal but poppy sampletronic Peeping Tom is opening? Fuck. This is the coolest show all summer. And it ain't sold out.