The Futureheads

Sept. 10, 8 p.m., with the Delays and headliners Franz Ferdinand, the Electric Factory, 421 North 7th St., $18.50 / all ages

The self-titled debut album from the Futureheads is the musical equivalent of crack. Every day I think “today I’m not going to listen to it,” and every day the “oh oh’s” and alternating shouts of those clever F-heads find their way back into my cd player.

Devo-like in their jerkiness, with militant drums, jangly guitars and brilliant group-shared vocal efforts, these boys from Sunderland make pop music that’s as straightforward as possible. Lyrically, they keep it simple – robots, the first day on a new job, the letters A and B – but the dynamics and layering of their stutters and hooks are anything but basic, and impossible to listen to without shaking some part of your body to the cadence.

Come ready to dance and foster a new addiction.

Guided By Voices

Sept. 10, 9 p.m., with Tommy Keene, at the Theater of the Living Arts, 334 South St, $20 / all ages

Heralded as legends of ’90s alt rock and progenitors of the lo-fi revival (the last time it happened), Guided By Voices have kept their brand of rock basic and solid as a Stones’ riff since 1986.

Touting their 15th and final album “Half Smiles of the Decomposed,” this is apparently the final tour for Bob Pollard and his mates. If you’re a fan, don’t miss your last chance to hear GBV tear through nigh 20 years worth of favorites, and maybe some songs from that new album, too.

M-83

Sept. 13, 8 p.m., with Ulrich Schnauss, at Beyond Nightclub, 8th and Callowhill Sts. (one block South, below Spring Garden), $12 / all ages

Combining melody and clamor in equal measure, this duo from France has stipple-brushed an album (“Dead Cities, Red Seas and Lost Ghosts”) that blurs the line between human and machine while invoking equal parts Bach-with digital escalations and de-escalations – and My Bloody Valentine – with atmospheres both dense and airy.

M-83 sounds like string-laden mechanized symphonies, bleeps and drums and keys, the pitter patter of affections, and robotic female vocal scats, all which mingle into something meaningful.

I’d call it a landscape of sound, but there is heart in it.

I’d call it dance music, but it could as effectively soundtrack stillness and a good think.

I’d not dare call it techno.

I think I’ll call it lovely and well worth a listen.