SATURDAY

Whether it’s the warm humming of tube amps or the drugged exotica of buzzing tambouras, the boys in Pelt have never met a drone they didn’t like. They began in Richmond as a bunch of Sonic Youth-wannabe rocker types but soon jettisoned the shackles of song structure when ex-Ugly Headers Pat Best and Jack Rose signed on with sole original member Mike Gangloff. As a trio, the band obsesses over heavy rock scuzz suspended between beats, improvising beautiful, single-minded tantric jams with bowed guitars. As they’ve grown grayer, their music has only become more epic—moving farther away from structure and closer to pure sound. Though there’s certainly no dearth of 20-something gringos sucking at the teat of post-Velvet Underground modality, Pelt transcends the pack. Unlike most of their peers, the members of Pelt divine inspiration from beyond their own lifetimes—snagging moves from ancient ragas, front-porch bluegrass, and Tibetan prayer rituals. Listening to Pelt’s latest, Empty Bell Ringing in the Sky, is like hearing the Earth being scraped and shaved into existence: Massive layers of tranced-out ambience mesh with bleats of skronk to create something that defies time and space. Without any specific reference points, Pelt’s sustained, soundtracky drone invocations betray no genre. Tune in, turn on, and drop out when Pelt plays with Fur Saxa at 9 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 3, at the Museum of Contemporary Art, 1054 31st St. NW. $6. (202) 342-6230. (Brent Burton)