Original tracks full of sunny pop melodies as played by computers? Bingo. As is appropriate for this genre, Drake’s vocals are androgynous, simple, slightly sad, and autotuned: coming soon to an iPod commercial near you.

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True Widow tumbled out from the heart of Texas with a knack for the reverberatory arts. Their ‘stonegaze’ sound, as some call it, sounds a bit like a cool soothing rockslide. They will play the New Weird America Fest this Saturday at Nomad. Win tickets here! This interview by Matt Dupree.

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Wolvserpent is a Boise-based duo of drone-adjacent metal that write the soundtrack to freezing to death. Half-tucked within the usually niche world of doom, the two create lurching cinematic soundscapes of lawless splendor. They play this Thursday with Wino and more. This interview by Matt Dupree.

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Gone are the lightning wails of 2003. The new Ima Robot is more patient, more complex, and more exploratory than ever, and that’s an impressive accomplishment. They probably won’t sell any Ford Fiestas with this album. But, as the album asserts, this ain’t necessarily that bad of a bad thing.

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Equally reminiscent of K and Kill Rock Stars (comparisons necessary but not sufficient), the Long Beach duo covers a surprising amount of tonal ground in 6 songs. “Loogy Clap” rings cold and dirty like a Neurosis track but with the elasticity of Emily’s Sassy Lime.

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Tiny Lungs comes straight out of the late-90’s pop-punk tradition, with inventively simple riffs and Springsteen’s Golden Vocal Rule: intensity is honesty. And while the vocals are pretty much pegged on Slowdown Virginia-era Kasher, the instrumentation is much closer to Goddamnit-era Alkaline Trio.

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Dr. Dog took the stage with more of a thunder-and-lightning approach, with bassist Toby Leaman stalking the stage like Henry Rollins in a fluffy wool cap while guitarist Scott McMicken (also in a cap) roared through “Mirror, Mirror” to open the set.

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The strength of Medicine Show No. 3 is the reckless abandon with which it dives deeply into style after style, sometimes in ways that don’t exactly work but nonetheless manage to attach themselves together. For some, this will be an eye-opening redefinition of African music. But it’s not for first-time Madlib listeners.

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Straight out of Highland Park and reppin’ Heard of Elephants Collective, Random Patterns takes to music like the first word in their name takes to the second: soaked in paradox. The whole thing speaks of late-night collisions between the Butthole Surfers and the Doors at a funk club with pink lighting.

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North Carolina’s Weedeater are unflagging primal monstermen who convert weed and bourbon into simple energy and don’t stop touring til at least three things burst and deflate. They are working on a new album for Southern Lord and speak now from the road. This interview by Matt Dupree.

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