Nashville guitarist William Tyler uses a lot of notes. In fact, his pieces for solo acoustic and electric guitar are arguably hyperactive, with melodies and variations so detailed and involved that, if transcribed into sheet music, they might look like compact constellations. His left hand is forever moving, up and down, skittering like a spider or skipping like a hare, to reach the next part of whatever majestic piece he's playing. "Country of Illusion," from this year's Merge debut, Impossible Truth, and "Missionary Ridge," from 2010's Behold the Spirit, are cataracts of activity, with little consideration of stillness or silence. But Tyler is able to craft this accretion of tiny points into songs that feel welcoming and warm. It's as though you're sitting on a back porch with an old friend, staring off into the world—it doing its unknowable work while you do your best to maintain your place among it all. Tyler worked as a sideman for years with Lambchop and Silver Jews, but his own material is a wonderful swarm, big enough for an ever-wider audience. Wowolfol, the twang-and-doom solo concern of Hog frontman Rich James, opens. Sunday, Oct. 20, at Duke Coffeehouse. $6/9 p.m.
Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds
Kid Congo Powers has been a member of The Gun Club, Nick Cave's Bad Seeds and The Cramps. That's all been a quarter-century ago, though, while his new record, Haunted Head, is worth your time now. Demented and devilish, Kid Congo and his dudes bring African rhythms, English psychedelics and all-American gusto into a musky garage. There are a few immediate jams here, but the Pink Monkey Birds make prismatic rock 'n' roll, with familiar sounds refracted and reordered by dizzying imagination. You'd never expect a song called "Let's Go!" to go in this many directions. With Black Zinfandel and Last Year's Men. Friday, Oct. 18, at Kings. $10–$12/9:30 p.m.
The Moondoggies, Rose Windows
Tourmates The Moondoggies and Rose Windows share a few obvious features: They both hail from Seattle, they've both released new LPs this year, and they both belong to the extended Sub Pop Records family. More important, though, is the way that both acts fold their influences and moods into oblong songs and atmospheres. The Sun Dogs, the stellar debut from Rose Windows, transmogrifies from ripping guitar rock that recalls Sabbath to harrowing folk sing-alongs more akin to Buffy Sainte-Marie, moves made possible by enchanting singer Rabia Shaheen Qazi and a high-minded approach to dynamics. The Moondoggies, meanwhile, combine the shambling sounds of The Band against the live-wire energy of post-punk. Not unlike the former North Carolinians of Roman Candle, they're a classic rock band with fresh verve—neither nave nor kowtowing, just erudite and enthused. The Mercators open. Sunday, Oct. 20, at Local 506. $10/8:30 p.m.
Blue Sky Black Death
West Coast production pair Blue Sky Black Death have been mixing the stately saturation of shoegaze and the gloomy stare of doom metal with the concussive thuds of Southern hip-hop for the better part of a decade. Strangely, collaborators Kingston and Young God did not get sucked into the recent witchhouse craze, an omission that's allowed them to avoid stifling assumptions. Instead, they still have free range with the far-flung sides of their sound. To wit, at the start of October, they released Glaciers, a five-song, hour-long album that wends between choral vocals and trunk-of-subs rattle. Seductive and sinister, this is pop-music gloss repurposed for prog-rock grandiosity. The day after offering Glaciers, they issued "Keys," a lascivious collaboration with Gucci Mane. The bass lurks at the horizon of hell, while the lyrics aim excitedly for the gutter. Sacramento duo Sister Crayon, whose knotty and pensive pieces dip into trip-hop and dubstep, opens. Sunday, Oct. 20, at Kings. $10–$12/9 p.m.
Two years ago, Zack Mexico emerged from the coastal dune burg of Kill Devil Hills with what seemed like backlit beach music played by kids reared on indie rock—that is, light and lithe jams anchored by a sand-veiled core of suspicion. Their excellent debut LP, Ephemera of Altruisms, doesn't go quite glum. It is, however, more aggressive and less forgiving, with guitars that turn from shrieks into streaks and drums that hammer the slightly aloof hooks back to earth. During the tempestuous "All My Friends Love Rock 'N' Roll," they test the loyalty of those pals, bruising the cooed vocals with a rhythm section that's out for a fistfight and guitars that scrape and crawl—like sunburnt kids with well-worn copies of Sonic Youth's Dirty, doing their best to make the luau weird. With Lonnie Walker and The Critters. Thursday, Oct. 17, at Kings. $6/9:30 p.m.
Avery County, I'm Bound to You is the new record from Seattle songwriter Barton Carroll; it ends with its title track, an organ-led burst of triumphant nostalgia for the very rural and very Republican territory at this state's northwestern edge, where Carroll was raised. Though Carroll's own folk-rock songs and work as a Crooked Fingers sideman took him from that place long ago, Avery County is a heartfelt and honest examination of the sometimes backward locales that shape us. Built around the migratory folk endemic to that area (think Ireland, England and old-time, forever comingling), it's the transcontinental kin to Richard Thompson, determined to connect to the past while burrowing ahead. With Wood Ear. Wednesday, Oct. 23, at The Pinhook. $7/9 p.m.
With their multiple Grammy nods, National Heritage Fellowship win and string of national television and radio appearances, Beausoleil has several justifications for being the world's chief emissaries for Cajun music. There's a reason for that: Listen for the clear cut of Michael Doucet's fiddle or the restless skitter of the rhythms. Mind the fine harmonies and the broad repertoire of Cajun and country numbers. Notice the traditional and the new, sung in at least two languages by a band mostly born into the stuff. Friday, Oct. 18, at Casbah. $19–$22/7:30 p.m.
Perhaps Mobile Deathcamp sounds scary, what with a name that suggests marauding and murder. But the Toledo trio plays its reverent thrash metal with a goofy sort of glee, their blasts of fury and frustration interrupted only by the enthusiastic stump speeches of frontman and former GWAR bassist Todd Evans. Luckily, it's that oomph that overcomes most of their obsequy to their forebears. And on the heels of Columbus Day, listen closely for Deathcamp's intriguing and admittedly underplayed Native American advocacy. With Dark Design, End of Days and Dysplasia. Friday, Oct. 18, at The Maywood. $7/9 p.m.
Remember that time you had an idea for a silly pop song, with a hyperbolic hook and a juvenile credo? Maybe you even devised a hypothetical music video treatment and dreamed it'd make you a millionaire, at least if YouTube views translated directly into dollars? That's what Turquoise Dream—a production house of two beatmakers, rappers and their pals—has done since 2009. From the catchy-like-herpes "Lemme Smang It" to the new EDM send-up "Taste You Like Yogurt," these bros specialize in turning pop ephemera into viral apocrypha. It's dumb, delirious and, at best, filthy fun. Saturday, Oct. 19, at Local 506. $10–$12/9 p.m.
Led by Senegalese immigrant, kora player and griot descendant Diali Cissokho, the propulsive rock band Kaira Ba is one of this area's most intoxicating, emblematic acts. Backed by a quartet unafraid to run with a rhythm and a theme, Cissokho dispatches his soul blues with an irrepressible élan. Ticket sales from this show will funnel straight into studio costs, as the polyglot crew is currently in the lab with Mitch Easter to record its second album. Justin Robinson opens with a solo set. Friday, Oct. 18, at Haw River Ballroom. $12/8 p.m.
More than likely, this will be the last Triangle appearance by Dr. Ralph Stanley, the bluegrass pioneer who enjoyed a popular resurrection thanks to O Brother, Where Art Thou? But when Stanley visited The ArtsCenter in January, you couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed for him, as he struggled to remember lyrics and take a few elderly swipes at the banjo. Out of reverence for his legacy and your memory of it, this is a show to skip. For more, see Scan, our music blog. Monday, Oct. 21, at The ArtsCenter. $37–$41/8 p.m.
Though they've only been broken up officially for three years, former major-label caravan for emo, Finch, has reunited to play its first album, the maudlin What It Is to Burn, in full. Maybe that's a record you loved upon its release in 2002, but maybe you've grown up by now and conceded that Finch's version of pathos feels a bit icky for adulthood. At least someone hasn't—Finch, that is. With Dance Gavin Dance. Friday, Oct. 18, at Cat's Cradle. $20–$23/8 p.m.