9 p.m. Stickyz. $10 adv., $12 d.o.s.
Whatever your feelings about rock 'n' roll or Deer Tick or the Yuletide and what it all really means, you've got to love a band that writes a tune called "Holy Shit, It's Christmas!" This is especially true when the song sounds like a deranged alcoholic lounge singer ranting about the holidays over a preprogrammed beat on an out-of-tune Casio keyboard that's about to get him kicked out of the music store at the mall. Granted, it's a departure from the band's usual steez of magnificently sleazy rock, like Nick Cave's American cousin who's a short-order cook at Waffle House and has a side gig playing every Thursday at an especially dodgy hole-in-the-wall. But wildly out-of-character departures are often the hallmark of a band that isn't afraid to take risks, and often point to budding greatness. Opening acts include Virgin Forest and Dead People.