Wavves

Self-destruction is either an unfortunate byproduct or a necessary component in many punk bands, but Wavves is almost in a class of its own. Witness the rapid rise and fall of Nathan Williams, a 21-year-old So-Cal stoner and gifted songwriter whose spontaneous ascendance and immediate self-immolation in 2009 resembles a tragicomic aria writ small on a Tascam four-track and draped in distortion. Williams' bedroom recording project — a disheveled but delicious marriage of overdriven, tunneling surf guitars and ethereal, fallen-angel vocals — caught on with music tastemakers and, eventually, The New York Times, which penned an excitable review of a West Village gig in February. An Internet star was born, and it just as quickly imploded: multiple releases of similar material (debut Wavves evolved into two versions of Wavvves, the last and best on Fat Possum), brickbats at Williams' lyrics (beside-the-point whispers about skateboarding, goth girls and weed), and a drug-addled meltdown at a Spanish music festival that ended with literal brickbats. Sacramento's Ganglians and local duo Caddywhompus, model noisemakers by comparison, open. Tickets $10. — Noah Bonaparte Pais

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