After spending an indeterminate amount of time—minutes? hours?—reading text messages from the audience scrolling across the screen above the stage, the house lights at the Wiltern came down. Brooklyn-based quartet Grizzly Bear strolled out and took to an unusual formation onstage: Chris Taylor (bass, clarinet, flute, sax, etc.) to the far left, Ed Droste (vocals, guitar, autoharp) to his right, Daniel Rossen (vocals, guitar, keys) next over, and Christopher Bear (vocals, drums) to the far right. With the band in full array, each member markedly contributed to the intricate unfoldings that fashion the Grizzly Bear repertoire.

Thursday June 25th at seven p.m., I saw Michael Jackson on the corner of Santa Monica Blvd. across from the Troubadour. We didn’t exchange pleasantries. To be honest, clutching a withered “I love you” balloon, single tear streaking out of his left eye; he looked like he’d had a hard day. Even for an Amanda Palmer concert—a place where marauding punks, theater geeks, and other characters that would make my mother nervous, flock to with almost a religious fervor—it was weird.

As the frontman for the only good band to come out of the grunge period still thriving, Eddie Vedder has both reaped the benefits and shouldered the blames for being the second-most recognizable face of grunge. Make what you will of the more recent output from his main gig, Vedder and his gang have enjoyed a longevity rarely seen by bands of their time, and they still enjoys a rabid following. Vedder is proving, however, with his one-man shows, that he is deserving of a class completely by himself, irrespective of his work with his main band and rivaling that of his idols, Neil Young and Pete Townshend. June 11th found Vedder gracing the stage at Upper Darby’s Tower Theater for the third night of his 14-date solo trek, his first since last summer’s jaunt.

It says something that even two years after it was released, The National’s Boxer still feels fresh. Same can be said for the 4-year-old tracks from Alligator, both of which were featured heavily in the quintet’s recent stop in Philly.

“I have a naïve request,” said Swedish troubadour Jens Lekman, looking down at group of adoring Los Angelinos after a years’ absence from the city. “You can record and take video all you want, but please don’t post it on the Internet. I want this to be special…just between you and me.”

As anyone who has been to a Decemberists show can testify, a show is certainly ensured. This year’s The Hazards of Love, which acts more like a rock opera than all previous endeavors, was presented last Tuesday night on its own terms. With minimal stagecraft, The Decemberists performed Hazards in its entirety in their first set and a mixed bag in its second.

Extra Golden’s Tuesday night show at an Albuquerque steakhouse famous for its prime rib and Salsa dancing was a pleasant surprise.

“When Cheyenne and I do tandem beer drinking it means we’re going to sing together,” Will Oldham announced after he and singer/fiddle player Cheyenne Mize simultaneously swigged from their beer bottles. They were onstage at the Wilbur Theatre in Boston last Sunday preparing to perform the duet “You Want That Picture,” from Oldham’s 2008 release Lie Down in the Light.

5,000 fans shut down Hollywood Blvd. for a five block stretch smack dab in the middle of the city of angels on a Thursday night just to witness the live spectacle of Depeche Mode racing through a mini set of seven tracks. Making one of their more grandiose promotional stops in support of the newly released Sounds of the Universe, the band’s performance on the late night talk show Jimmy Kimmel Live belied, not only their age, but nearly everyone’s expectations as the black clad trio plus backing band opened the show by tearing into a barn burning performance of the latest single “Wrong” with a ferocity other groups half their age would be lucky to muster on a good night.