Beneath Golden Ghost's quivering fragility and twee innocence, there is a vague creepiness. The lead singer's voice is childlike and small, but she gives the impression that she may be the kind of person whom you can get far too close to, far too quickly. Roundly muted guitars, gently brushed drums and sweetly singing violins swirl around her vocals in an ambient haze that sometimes approaches twilight soft rock in tone and temperature. But all the while, that edginess creeps in a way that suggests this gentle lulling might not end well if you were to give yourself over to it. In time, Golden Ghost's twinkling Christmas lights begin to look unmistakably fluorescent - blinding and unwelcome. But for those dreamy first moments, nothing feels more like home. 

[Northern, with Mother McKenzie, Seed, 8 p.m., $5, 321 Fourth Ave., Olympia]