We all waited breathlessly for Santi White, aka Santogold, up next at Stubb's. The lady is an all-out dynamo, hoping in place, bouncing off the tense beats and electronic handclaps, and playing off her two cute new wavo backup dancers.

Up the street at Mohawk at the Ecstatic Peace showcase, label brain Thurston Moore was holding court in the quasi-mod lounge inside, as fellow Sonic Youth oldster Steve Shelley flitted about outside. Eddies of moody, ethereal folk wafted within as Samara Lubelski's band performed.


Our lady of the Ecstatic psych canyon: Samara Lubelski.

Outside on Mohawk's Patio, Boston's grim Black Helicopter impressed with a powerful post-punk set - these dudes used to be in Kudgel and Green Magnet School.

Buzzing Black Helicopter.

Eyeballing Sightings' Mark Morgan.

Later that night, I was glad to catch Sightings completely blow my mind with their intensity, air-tight prowess - the packed crowd at Mohawk stood by in shock as bassist Richard Hoffman scraped his bass against his amp, drummer Jonathan Lockie tore through endless fills with anguished eyes, and Mark Morgan conjured...something. Haunted - and haunting. Outside J Mascis was playing Dinosaur Jr. songs solo, on electric guitar, to a listeners who peeped in through the wire fence.

Gnaw on this: Goat the Head.

I was tempted to tarry at the "It's Grim Up North!" show at Red 7 Patio, where Enslaved was headlining later that night. Ah, well, at least I got to see the comically blood-bespattered Goat the Head from Trondheim, Norway - a group given to caveman-ish high jinks like kicking each other.

Sweet and strong: Evangelista.

Carla Bozulich's new project, Evangelista, made it all worth my move next door to Spiro's Amphitheater. The ex-Geraldine Fibber looked happy and inspired, channeling the voices of the lost, the drowned, the deranged - and playing with her standby Tara Barnes and a shifting slew of excellent musicians. Hello Voyager is on the great Constellation label and was recorded at the famed Hotel 2 Tango in Montreal - and it sounds absolutely soul-wrenchingly wonderful.

"I learned everything I know from Bob McDonald," hailed Bozulich, grinning and giving a shout to the Hank IV vocalist who preceded her onstage. She learned how to shoot a gun from McDonald - and one of his bandmates allowed that the two were once an item.

Next up: the full-on reunion of monumental art-punk Half Japanese with a dancing, prancing, smiling David Fair - in rubber clogs. Viral fun, for sure - with Yo La Tengo's Ira Kaplan on second sax.

The band that would be king: Half-Japanese.

Sub Pop Blitz(en) - and a Gallant.

Manchester's the Whip were way too packed - driving the mass crazy with the poppy, decadent synth beats - for me to make like a photographer and shoot, shoot. And the Memphis Stax players of the Bo-Keys were far too afield, across town at Opal Divine's Freehouse, to see - so I stumbled across the street to Sub Pop's dual shows. Blitzen Trapper worked the crowd into a royal southern-boogie lather, accompanied at one point by a black-clad Adam Stephens of SF's Two Gallants.

Austin, Texas: the land of a thousand impromptu street hootenannies.

Blazing Torche.

Back to the metal showcases down the street - to see Miami's Torche finish off the Hydra Head night. Blistering good, insane drummer, and earplugs for all.

My favorite downtown taco truck - tuck into a peccadillo taco.