When Brit electronica subverts Underworld kicked off their current North American tour at The Joint in Las Vegas on Thursday night it was a full-body experience, like taking temporary residence inside a subwoofer as outsized and over-the-top as the city in which it all went down.

"We're gonna start strange -- and probably get stranger," said Kim Deal last night at Newport, Kentucky's Southgate House. And she wasn't kidding: The Breeders frontwoman promptly proceeded to play only a single snare drum, as she leading the group through "Hoverin'," a song recorded by both the Breeders and Kim's mid-'90s band, the Amps.

At more than a few points during Los Campesinos!' tour-opening performance at New York City's Webster Hall on Tuesday night, it seemed as though everyone's lives were in serious, immediate danger.

In the four years since Aussie hard rock outfit Wolfmother released its self-titled debut, the trio toured the world, saw its track "Woman" become a Guitar Hero favorite, and, uh-oh, lost two members.

As Dan Deacon, Deerhunter, and No Age stepped onstage for the first of two round robin sets at New York City's Brooklyn Bowl on Sunday night, one reverent concertgoer summed it up best.

"Oh, man," she said to a friend. "It's like they're three gods, combining as one impenetrable force."

With their pitch-perfect harmonies, baroque acoustic guitar figures, and pastoral lyrics, Fleet Foxes can induce certain unintended side effects. Drowsiness, for one. Their reverb-soaked voices can either soothe, or weigh heavily on the eyelids, depending on the time of the night.

What happens when self-proclaimed Martian Lil Wayne opens his 22-city 'America's Most Wanted' tour at an Appalachian ski area outside Scranton, PA, with Drake, Young Jeezy, Soulja Boy, and the entire crew of his Young Money label?

Grunge may be long gone, but a handful of the Seattle bands that played at the Capitol Hill Block Party festival in their hometown this past weekend proved that the Emerald City’s music scene is still one of the country’s best.

Blink-182's tour kick-off Thursday night at Las Vegas' the Joint venue was the kind of show that doubled as one prolonged rim shot, a tongue-in-(butt)-cheek time warp back to junior high, starring a band that has long served as the itching powder in pop rock’s jock strap.

It's fair to say that the mark of a good singer-songwriter is his ability to hush a chatty crowd simply by letting it fly. But most good singer-songwriters aren't competing for attention with sextress Megan Fox and a room full of movie geeks at San Diego's Comic-Con.