Noise and effects. Noise and effects. Phil Elverum - as The Microphones, or Mount Eerie, or just about any other name in the book, I'd presume - is all about noise and effects. It's lo-fi, and repetitive, and uber-artistic, and the kind of thing that's about as far from the mainstream as you can get without being 4-track recorded monkey sex - but it is epically cool, and you don't even need to be a hipster to appreciate it. Sure, being a hipster kind of helps - it gets your retro sneaker in the Phil Elverum door, so to speak, but once you're inside it's survival of the artistically fittest. Can your mind wrap around the tangled sonic cloth Elverum weaves, like a bohemian David the Gnome, having popped out from underneath some bizarre-ass, Kombucha smelling forest mushroom, acoustic guitar in hand? If it can, Mount Eerie is an enjoyable ride. Or something.

[Northern, with Tara Jane O'Neil and Nikaido Kazumi, 8 p.m., all ages, 321 Fourth Ave.
Olympia]