If you don't click over to End Hits regularly, you're missing our daily show previews—each of them carefully hand-crafted in the Old-World artisanal fashion, to give you all helpful information you need to determine how to spend your time and entertainment dollars. Since it's Musicfest, we'll bring a bunch of 'em over to Blogtown. After the jump, we've got a lot of previews of tonight's MFNW shows! Click the jump, you jumpclicker.


OLD 97'S, JASON ISBELL AND THE 400 UNIT, THOSE DARLINS, REIGNWOLF
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Old 97's' seminal 1997 album Too Far to Care is oft taken for granted in the pantheon of "alt country"—which is silly considering it blows the doors clean off any mid-'90s work with the names Tweedy or Farrar attached to it. You won't find a better mix of outlaw twang, Replacements rawk, and R.E.M. pop cavorting with a more downtrodden assortment of characters. The Dallas four-piece's third release has aged remarkably w ell, too. To celebrate that fact, the Old 97's perform the record in its entirety, with a vinyl reissue on the way. It's a chance to discover what many attractive and intelligent people have known for 15 years. MARK LORE


OMAR SOULEYMAN, SUN ANGLE, STAY CALM, COPY
(Branx, 320 SE 2nd) Omar Souleyman's homeland of Syria is currently embroiled in a horrifying civil war, but to see him—with the unfazed cool of the congenital badass, wearing a hatta and aviators—you'd think he could stop it all with a dismissive flick of the wrist. But that's not why you should see him. You should see him because his beats are off the hook, and because he sings in Arabic and Kurdish in a grizzled, no-nonsense style that belies his status as Syria's favorite wedding singer. But don't write him off as a novelty act: He's a techno auteur who numbers BjÖrk and Damon Albarn among his biggest fans. REBECCA WILSON


PURITY RING, EVIAN CHRIST, HEADACHES
(Ted's Berbati's Pan, 231 SW Ankeny) The second most annoying thing about Purity Ring is how their name makes anyone over the age of 27 automatically think of the Promise Ring, a band they do not remotely resemble in any fashion. The first most annoying thing about Purity Ring is the sheer saccharine addictiveness of their chop-screw-and-paste synth pop, which takes the edgy elements of glitch and Southern rap, and turns them into ultra-palatable aural cotton candy. The Canadian duo's debut, Shrines, is a twinkling overdose of pop, boasting monoliths of artificial beauty. While the overall impression is that this is music for children, now is the time to see this band, as they'll be filling much bigger rooms from here on out. NED LANNAMANN


JOHN MAUS, ONUINU, STRATEGY, SWAHILI
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) The considerable local hype for the upcoming Mirror Gazer, the first full-length for Onuinu (AKA Dorian Duvall), manages to live up to most every expectation. Duvall's electro-pop pizzazz is well seasoned throughout the LP, peppering disco-synth bangers like the infectious "Always Awkward" with a deserving amount of glitz without burying the hooks. But the real gems in Onuinu's oeuvre come from his deft employment of deep-space synth runs that Eno would be proud to call his own. Mirror Gazer strikes a pretty irresistible balance of heavy and delicate. RYAN J. PRADO


LIGHTNING BOLT, QUASI, WHITE FANG
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) You never know what you're going to get with a Lightning Bolt show, but you can safely expect to partake in an original experience that transcends gimmick or spectacle. The Rhode Island-based band, formed in 1994, eschews traditional performer/audience structure, performing not on stage but among the assembled bodies. Brian Chippendale drums hysterically, his vocals amplified and transmogrified through a telephone receiver attached to his head. And Brian Gibson plays bass in a way that unmasks previously unseen capabilities of the instrument. The sonic cacophony is turned up and sped up to critically wounding levels. MARANDA BISH


CEREMONY, CHEAP GIRLS, LEE COREY OSWALD
(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) The previous two Cheap Girls records definitely had their moments, but leave it to Tom Gabel (now Laura Jane Grace)—who handled production duties on the band's latest effort, Giant Orange—to wring absolute greatness out of them. Giant Orange is a relentless romp through '90s pop/rock fetishism, recalling the best aspects of bands like Superchunk, Nerf Herder, Gin Blossoms (before they were wretched), and They Might Be Giants (specifically in lead singer Ian Graham's corrosive wail). MORGAN TROPER


THE MEN, THE MEAN JEANS, THE PEOPLE'S TEMPLE
(Star Theater, 13 NW 6th) 2012 has been a great year for rock, and Brooklyn's the Men have played a big part in making it so. Their latest LP Open Your Heart is filled with no-nonsense guitars that pummel and hooks that bury themselves deep into your ear canal. Think of them sort of like the Replacements-replacements. The Men offer something for everyone—the recklessness of proto-punk, spaghetti western twang, psychedelic flashbacks. ML


POKEY LAFARGE AND THE SOUTH CITY THREE, THE ALIALUJAH CHOIR, LEMOLO, MBILLY
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) The pacing of Seattle dream-pop duo Lemolo's new LP The Kaleidoscope is sometimes painfully labored, somewhat like the boorish film-reel loops of an actual dream. Lemolo, then, is living up to its reputation. Well, more than that; behind the enchanting knockout harmonies of Meagan Grandall and Kendra Cox, they're thriving. The Seattle duo's hypnotic debut is a certifiable grower—repeated listens are rewarded with the revelation of charming subtleties in the melodies, and a growing appreciation for all that plunking piano. It's a deadly serious project that fancies itself a playful, swaying romp, offering a nice contrast to the rollicking lineup on this bill. RJP


FLYING LOTUS, NOSAJ THING, JACQUES GREENE
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) The recent collaboration between Flying Lotus and Erykah Badu resonates like a new drug. "See Thru to U", the track's title, has the low-lit soul of '50s metropolitan bebop and the edged shuffle of an R&B song written on heroin, all while strongly portraying the synchronized melodic power of these two stand-alone artists. I swear it plays like a single—if there were such a thing—off Miles Davis' Bitches Brew. It's further evidence that they're the king and queen of their musical climates, and further reason to get increasingly ecstatic about Flying Lotus' upcoming Until the Quiet Comes, out October 2. JONATHAN MAGDALENO