Suckers for shattered, celestial wavelength slosh could do much worse than to dip a toe into Dada Trash Collage’s burgeoning, flickering discography. This Minneapolis/Detroit trio pens thrumming songs full of busted glowsticks, chipped rhythms, and unmoored vocalisms, delightfully spastic bursts of vertigo that feel much more accidental than they actually are. (Is the “dada” prefix ironic? Does it even matter?) And like the work of Stereolab, Animal Collective, and Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.—groups on a similar first-name basis with test-tube tone splash—Dada Trash Collage songs are startlingly a priori, eternal, and forever young.
Thu., Feb. 16, 9 p.m., 2012