Live Music Picks: June 28-July 4 

• Dalton Paley

FRIDAY 6/29
The Get Up Kids, Casket Lottery
The Get Up Kids returned in 2018 with their first release in seven years, an EP calledKicker that updates their classic emo-punk sound with tales of adult travails like parenthood and marriage. Even though this band of Kansas City-born brothers has grown older, Kicker also sounds like their most immediate discography entry in years. With just four crisp, concise anthems, The Get Up Kids wash away the mid-tempo experiments of 2002'sOn a Wire and 2004'sGuilt Showand their quiet stretch of the mid-2010s, reminding everyone of the power in their 1999 breakthrough,Something to Write Home About. Is it a big deal that 2019 marks both the 20th anniversary of that record and the year that Matt Pryor, Jim Suptic, Rob Pope, Ryan Pope and James Dewees will return with another full-length album? We say yes. As Pryor recently toldNME, "It feels like we're entering into some sort of second wave of our career. That sounds corny; it's probably [more] like the third or fourth. But something feels kinda different this time. It just feels a little bit more on point, less like we're making it up as we go along and more like we're making it up and then finding a way to execute it correctly." (Nick McGregor) Metro Music Hall, 615 W. 100 South, 8 p.m., $19.99 presale/$25 day of show, 21+ metromusichall.com

• JUCO

SATURDAY 6/30
Janelle Monáe, St. Beauty
Janelle Monáe has been everywhere and done everything. In 2016, she kickstarted her burgeoning film career with star turns in Oscar winner Moonlight and box-office smash Hidden Figures. In 2018, her album Dirty Computer nearly broke the Internet (or at least the Twitter portion of it) as its futuristic, pugilistic pop earned universal plaudits. It might only be Monáe's third full-length album, but its backstory—her journey to publicly coming out as pansexual, production from Prince, a teaser aired nationwide prior to screenings of Black Panther—made it feel like the cultural moment of the year. Dirty Computer addresses racism, homophobia, the power of the patriarchy and the construct of black sexuality in stark, confrontational terms. "Songs one, two, three, four, that's the reckoning," Monáe told Hot 97 in a radio interview. "That's you feeling the sting of being called 'nigger' for the first time by a white person. Feeling the sting of being called 'bitch' by a man for the first time. Feeling the sting of being called 'queer' or 'faggot' by homophobic people." Yet the album remains imminently danceable and downright funky, even when you watch its accompanying "emotion picture," which depicts a Big Brother-like world where queer people and people of color are tracked and hunted by police. This is where we're reminded that Monáe has always crossed any obstacle put in her place. She's dabbled in jazz, served as a CoverGirl model, earned six Grammy Award nominations and slayed on Dancing with the Stars. As she recently said in Rolling Stone, "Being aqueer black woman in America, I consider myself to be a free-ass motherfucker." (NM) The Complex, 536 W. 100 South, 7:30 p.m., $38.50, all ages, thecomplexslc.com

• Katie Krulock

Petal, Camp Cope, Oceanator
If it feels like strong, thoughtful women are leading the contemporary indie rock charge, you're right (and thank goodness). Artists like Courtney Barnett, Speedy Ortiz, Snail Mail, Margaret Glaspy, Mitski, Soccer Mommy, Japanese Breakfast and Frankie Cosmos are producing heartfelt, fuzzed-out pop that's brutally honest and irresistibly listenable. Two more bands in that vein—Petal and Camp Cope—make their SLC debuts on the heels of respectively excellent albums. Petal's Magic Gone documents frontwoman Kiley Lotz's (pictured) struggle with depression and panic disorder while celebrating her redemptive decision to live her full life and come out as queer. On paper, the Scranton, Pa., native's heartbreaking confessionals might seem light years different than the revved-up punk rock of her Run for Cover Records bandmates, Australia's Camp Cope. But Georgia Maq, Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich and Sarah Thompson fight misogyny, deliver harrowing accounts of sexual assault and tear down the hierarchy on their sophomore album How to Socialise & Make Friends. They even put their #MeToo politics into action earlier this year when they canceled a co-headlining tour with Turnover after that band parted ways with its male guitarist over allegations of emotional abuse. Petal, Camp Cope and New York's Oceanator are of a similar mind when it comes to a range of issues: mental health, representation, identity and sexual politics. In a recent interview with Them, Lotz said, "It's irrefutable and undeniable that people who aren't straight white dudes have a lot to offer. [And] from a business standpoint, if you're a horrible, misogynistic piece of shit, we don't have to work with you. We can stand on our own. If you're not interested, we don't need your help." (Nick McGregor) Kilby Court, 741 S. Kilby Court, 7 p.m., $14 presale/$16 day of show, 21+, kilbycourt.com

• Deandre Forks

Fantastic Negrito
The compelling backstory of blues, R&B and African-American roots artist Fantastic Negrito started when he was born Xavier Dphrepaulezz as the eighth of 15 children. At a young age, Xavier began selling drugs, including crack cocaine, on the streets of Oakland, Calif. Inspired by the music of the late Prince, he started sneaking into music classes at UC Berkeley and shaping himself into a blues player. However, his promising early career was derailed in 1999 after he was in a major car accident, which left him in a coma for three weeks and prompted Interscope to drop his record deal. In 2007, Dphrepaulezz stopped playing music entirely and went back to slangin' rocks. Then, out of nowhere, he returned and won NPR's Tiny Desk Concert in 2015. The next year, he released his deceivingly optimistic third album, The Last Days of Oakland, for which he won a Grammy Award for Best Contemporary Blues Album. Negrito has been touring nonstop ever since, instructing audiences across the country to "Turn that bullshit/ turn it into good shit." Basically, he's telling us we can overcome everyday struggles, as well as those earth-shifting events life tends to throw at, well, everyone. And Negrito should know: He just released his fourth album, Please Don't Be Dead, with cover art that features him in a hospital bed following his near-fatal car accident. (Howard Hardee) The Urban Lounge, 241 S. 500 East, 8 p.m., $13 presale/$15 day of show, 21+, theurbanloungeslc.com

• Dot Pierson

SUNDAY 7/1
The Posies, Sarah Anne DeGraw,Odd Jobs
Consider The Posies the once-and-forever epitome of American power pop. While other bands mgiht have competed for similar prominence, 30 years of on-again, off-again dedication to that particular musical mantra clearly affirms their pedigree. Currently in the midst of an extensive tour celebrating that legacy, the band's two constants—Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow—have reunited with bassist Dave Fox and drummer Mike Musburger, with whom they made their archival classic Frosting on the Beater, opting for a victory lap to celebrate their former glories. Hopefully, it will correct the fact that fuller recognition eluded the band previously. Indeed, with upcoming reissues of some of The Posies' seminal albums, the timing is ideal. "We were diverted into other realms," Stringfellow, who also performs a solo set, says. "I don't think we had as much faith in ourselves as we should have." Nevertheless, that doesn't account for the lasting admiration expressed by their fans, nor the fact that their melodic imprint still resonates in an era when shallow spectacle and hollow hype prevails. "We're a band that's rested on the laurels of our classic records," Auer admits. And who can blame them? The dozen or so albums The Posies produced alongside Auer and Stringfellow's solo sojourns make any revisit worthwhile. (Lee Zimmerman) The State Room, 638 S. State, 8 p.m., $24, 21+, thestateroom.com

• Jimmy Hubbard

MONDAY 7/2
Mastodon, Primus, Jjuujjuu
It's hard to write about something you love without sounding biased. I could try to take a stab at it by telling everyone what an amazing drummer Mastodon's Brann Dailor is. Or how exciting it is to watch Troy Sanders on stage geeking out in between belting out lyrics and bass lines. I can try to explain how hilarious guitarist Brent Hinds is on and off stage (in a Mexican restaurant commercial he acted in), or how Bill Kelliher really busted out of his shell on Mastodon's latest album, Emperor of Sand. Especially on "Andromeda," Kelliher channels his inner hardcore kid. But the truth for anyone who has followed these Atlanta prog-rock titans is that we know Mastodon's far-ranging talents. From tales of battling cancer to astral space travel and LSD, Mastodon has continued to draw from all aspects of drugs, life and death. However, frontman/bassist Les Claypool of Primus took a different direction on his band's ninth studio album, The Desaturating Seven, based around the children's book The Rainbow Goblins written by Ul De Rico (apparently 1978 was pretty gnarly for children's books in comparison to the ones I grew up on). After their 2018 tour with Mastodon, Primus has stated that the band will take a break from the road, which is all the more reason to buy the ticket and take the ride with Primus, for it might be the last time we hear punchy bass licks from "Jerry Was a Race Car Driver." Here's to hoping that won't be the case. (Rachelle Fernandez) The Great Saltair, 12408 W. Saltair Drive, 7 p.m., $42.50, all ages, thesaltair.com