Will York

Thank goodness for Tim Berne. His new double CD, The Sublime And: Live in Switzerland (Thirsty Ear, Oct. 7), is a compelling reason to put down the addictive Swedish grindcore albums I've been damaging my ears with – namely, the Asterix collection, Dogma (31G), and the new Regurgitate disc, Deviant (Relapse).

Berne's last album, Science Friction (Screwgun), continued the seemingly unending string of career-best releases from the New York alto saxophonist-composer. It was so good I actually bought it twice. That CD marked the first release of his new, semi-electric band, rounded out by Craig Taborn (keyboards), Tom Rainey (drums), and Marc Ducret (guitar), and was one of his most concise statements in years, with most songs averaging a mere eight minutes. The Sublime And resets the balance, though, with six live tracks totaling more than two hours, each taking off from Berne's bluesy, tongue-twisting melodies but touching base with ambient electronica, noisy guitar rock, and three-legged funk and soul along the way.

Oh yeah, and speaking of ear-damaging grindcore once again, Italy's Cripple Bastards – who are nearly on par with the likes of A.C. and Eyehategod in the realm of uncompromising underground-metal misanthropes – hit 924 Gilman Oct. 18. This is a rare chance to see Giulio the Bastard, Schintu the Wretched, and the rest of the gang live on these shores, not to mention a unique opportunity to hear obscenity-laden sociopolitical tirades screamed in 300-mph Italian.

Jimmy Draper

Pink, Try This (Arista, Nov. 11) Even if she hadn't licked a lady's face at this year's MTV Movie Awards and single-handedly revived Linda Perry's career, the punk-as-fuck Pink would still be queering popular music – sexually and stylistically – in ways that t.A.T.u. can only dream of. So lez face it, folks: If, as with the genre-jumping M!ssundaztood, her third album continues blending and blurring the boundaries of pop, rock, and R&B, then it's gonna be nearly impossible to find a greater risk-taker in the mainstream than Pink.

Various artists, Wig in a Box: The Songs from Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Off, Oct. 21) No doubt about it, such high-drama queens as Rufus Wainwright, Imperial Teen, Yoko Ono, and the rest of the contributors to this star-studded Hedwig homage are suited for some killer impressions of that glorious, botched-sex-change-survivin' glamazon. Fred Schneider and Sleater-Kinney's collaboration on "Angry Inch" will ensure Wig in a Box truly tran(ny)scends tribute album tedium. Go to www.hedwiginabox.com.

Girlz Garage Tour (Slim's, Nov. 9) Now that the waify, lily-white Lilith Fair is but a distant mammary, this Warped Tour offshoot is here to pick up some femme-centric slack. From Northern State's hip-hop and Brassy's punk-funk to the guilty pop pleasures from those young 'uns in Lillix (silly Liz, Matrix are for kids!), the tour's lineup should be eclectic, electric, and most important, good.

More, more, more Mandy Moore's Coverage (Sony 550 Music, Oct. 21); The Distillers' third CD (Warner Bros., September); Ted Leo's Tell Balgeary, Bulgary Is Dead EP (Lookout!, Oct. 7), and Leo performing solo (Oct. 5, Bottom of the Hill); the Quails' The Song Is Love (Mr. Lady, Oct. 14); and, of course, Britney's return to relevance ... or lack thereof.

Peter Nicholson

After a slow start to the year, when it seemed few people were making worthwhile records and even fewer were coming to S.F. to promote them, this fall sees several shows guaranteed to get my jaded, lazy ass out on the town. Despite all the industry grumbling about slow sales, apparently musicians are still making music, and damn good music at that.

Charlie Dark (Sept. 27, The Top) Longtime local purveyor of fine beats MikeBee teams up with Raul Endymion to bring Charlie Dark (Blacktonica, Attica Blues) to Safe, giving us all a chance to savor the broken jazz flavors of a seminal wax chef.

John Arnold (Oct. 3, Hush Hush) The third installment of Andrew Jervis and Jonah Sharp's pHunk Tank should keep the intimate Hush Hush dance floor jammed, as Detroit mad genius John Arnold shares future funk from his brilliant Ubiquity album Neighborhood Science.

Bent (Nov. 1, venue TBA) On a new album, Everlasting Blink (Guidance), balanced between outright beauty and meandering whimsy, Bent blends slide guitar, laid-back house grooves, and sly humor, which should make for an intriguing night on the decks.

T. Raumschmiere (Nov. 22, Bottom of the Hill) Gotta love someone who runs a label called Shitkatapult. Teutonic techno triumph T. Raumschmiere will be flinging the heavy as shizz beats live in support of Radio Blackout (Mute).

George Chen

Lightning Bolt (Oct. 11-13, venues TBA) One annual tradition is the arrival of Lightning Bolt. For the past three years the Providence, R.I., duo has played at least two Bay Area shows each summer. This year the Brians (Chippendale and Gibson) are making us wait till October for their torrents of feedback and superhuman bass kick.

Although the band have been around since 1995, the rigorous tour schedule and sense of kinship with this region are recent developments. In summer 2000 a weeklong local residency was the default answer to a gap in booking during a national tour. I followed them around the Bay Area, a crazed groupie-zealot proselytizing to everyone about my personal awakening. I saw them outperform a chair-bound Locust at an all-ages café in San Jose. I watched Chippendale showboat for an hour in a muggy Sacto living room while Gibson waited patiently for some wasted punks to find the circuit breakers.

I can't guarantee this regime will work for you, but the experience is akin to what people tell me yoga does. Their live shows create an addictive rush that sends all the bad humours from their storage ducts up to the outer membranes. Medieval malady is sweated out. Beads of pent-up badness bounce off your flesh and mingle with that of your neighbors. Inner balance is restored via sonic exorcism. Listening to this year's colossal Wonderful Rainbow (Load) or watching last year's Power of Salad documentary (Load) is mere simulation. Live and in the moment, it's therapy and theater and punishing noise all at once. Go to www.loadrecords.com for a tour schedule.

Vivian Host

I am terribly, terribly excited at the chance to break out my scarf collection once winter comes. I've got the whole look planned: retro too-black-to-be-real bob circa 1993, striped socks, lots of Stone Roses on the hi-fi. But while cold, foggy weather seems to always bring me back to the Britpop classics, there are quite a few new things to be excited about this fall. Here are some.

Party Monster This is, of course, the movie version of the true-life story of murderous club owner Michael Alig, who ran the NYC's Tunnel in the rave-club kid heyday. The return of Macaulay Culkin, Chlöe Sevigny, stacked platform Adidas, and glitter. This heralds the soon-to-come early-'90s revival, so get your fashion tips now, kids.

Manitoba, Dabrye (Sept. 20, Bottom of the Hill) Ghostly International's Dabrye makes loping instrumental swamp-hop that has glitches and pops but manages to sound elegant, rather than difficult. Manitoba does his crazy indie shoe gaze-meets-electronic thing, and his show includes glockenspiels and puppets. Put on your knit thinking caps.

Tussle Busy boys, they're spending October touring Europe with Erase Errata. In the meantime, we can content ourselves with minimal disco/krautrock-inflected goodness with their first single on Troubleman Unlimited, with remixes in the pipeline from Matmos and Stuart Argabright. An album is also on the way.

Lynn Rapoport

Oh fall, my favorite-ever season. Who but you would have thought to bring me a second Shins album, Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop, Oct. 21), just when I was starting to wonder if something might be wrong? While cautious fans may feel reluctant to fall as hard for any of the new songs as they did for "New Slang" – for fear of their favorites getting picked off by ad execs employed by fast-food chains – there are quite a few charmers, including "Mine's Not a High Horse" and the downright countryish "Gone for Good."

In the meantime, the emphatically named Hot Shit! (Touch and Go, Sept. 9) may answer some questions concerning what terrible things Quasi have learned about the world and the people who live in it since The Sword of God. They'll be here to tell us the good news in person at Bottom of the Hill Oct. 14.

And belying the notion that spring's the only season of rebirth, my favorite born-again Christian is back the scene where anguished, indecipherable lyrics, large passions, and obsessed but well-behaved fans rule the rock club. I gave up on the idea of tracking down Sunny Day Real Estate's Jeremy Enigk and following him around like a heartsick puppy a few years back, recognizing that I could never hope to compete with Christianity for his attention, but I've never really gotten over any of it – the breakups, the reunions, and especially the albums. So it's good to hear that the tradition of mystical exaltations continues with the Fire Theft, featuring three-fourths of SDRE (Enigk, William Goldsmith, and Nate Mendel). The new name's possible allusion to an ancient mythological conflict with a conscienceless god seems like a suitably lofty theme for Enigk to work with. Their debut album is set to hit stores Sept. 23, and the band visit the Great American Music Hall six days later.