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Orlando, Fla., teenager Marcel Everett is hardly the only producer making woozy, barely-there, hip-hop-informed beats in his bedroom these days, but there’s something noticeably intuitive about the way he does it. As xxyyxx, he seems most concerned with giving a song only enough to evoke a small emotion or two, usually something along the lines of “I’m alone but it doesn’t bother me for now” or “I’m processing a strange thing that somebody said to me today.” The basslines are best described as slabs. The percussion loops are simple, but sometimes he’ll layer a few of them. And vocal samples are deconstructed and arranged around the beat as if he’s showing, in his own gently skewed way, reverence for hip-hop’s emphasis on speech. Sometimes xxyyxx sounds like Burial or James Blake (an influence Everett freely acknowledges), and the music definitely has a kinship with the output of L.A.’s current crop of stoned experimenters, especially Shlohmo. But Everett’s tunes don’t just look inward—they’ve got a sly sense of what makes a listener tune out. Live, xxyyxx seems to be heavier on the beat; check out the video of a Sept. 25 show in Arnhem, Netherlands, for proof. With Teen Daze. 10 p.m. $10.