9:30 p.m., Sticky Fingerz. $15.
Last year, Hayes Carll's third album, “Trouble in Mind,” made him something of a critical darling. His song “She Left Me for Jesus,” which Don Imus called the “greatest country song ever,” won Song of the Year at the Americana Music Association awards, and big name critics stumbled over themselves trying to capture his particular charisma. Anthony DeCurtis called his singing voice “a drawl that's as sexy as it is smart.” Robert Christgau almost redeemed “Type-A mush mouthed drawler” with “funnier than shit.” And the LA Times said he has the face of a “prairie dog.” In Arkansas, we're less focused on his totem animal or the tenor of his drawl. It's his lyrics we're keyed into, especially those like this, from the song “Bad Liver and a Broken Heart”: “Arkansas, my head hurts/I'd love to stick around and maybe make it worse.” That's bound to get the crowd going. It's likely to be full of family (Carll's wife is from Arkansas) and friends (he graduated from Hendrix) and lots of hollering. New Braunfel's Midnight River Choir opens. LM.
9:30 p.m., Juanita's. $20 adv., $23 d.o.s.
Brian Posehn's been a dork for 30 years. Or so he confesses on his 2006 album “Live In: Nerd Rage.” Maybe so, but he's like the king of dorkdom. He wrote for and appeared on most all of the episodes of “Mr. Show.” Which led to an amazing string of guest spots on TV (as Ray Liotta's fictional cousin on “Just Shoot Me,” the Wisdom Cube on “Aqua Teen Hunger Force” and himself on “Tim and Eric Awesome Show”) and roles in a string of movies he's not afraid to admit mostly suck (“Dumb and Dumberer,” “Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer” and, playing against type in the decidedly not-suck-y “The Devil's Rejects”). He's a stoner (he was in “Super High Me”). He's written a comic book about a zombie-slaying Santa Claus. He does voices for videogames. And he knows a lot about metal (he hosted a metal award show presented by Revolver magazine earlier this year). If you fall into any of those demographics, you should probably go to this show. Dry hilarity should ensue. LM.
THANKS FOR THE LAUGH COMEDY TOUR
8 p.m., Robinson Center. $17-$27.
A traveling laugh brigade intent on delivering a one-two-three punch to the diaphragm, this triple bill features seasoned comics who cut their teeth the traditional way, working clubs and harvesting the fanbase. Headlining jokester Bruce Bruce, aka the “Mayor of Comedy” (due to his support of talented newcomers), traces his comic roots to tickling customers while cooking BBQ and lightening up board meetings as a Frito-Lay salesman. It's no secret Bruce two-times loves all things caloric, but the current national spokesman for Popeye's says he's given up devouring entire pizzas after performances. No word if his position on skinny women (outlined/immortalized by Too Short) has changed. Lavell Crawford overcame childhood obesity, a near drowning and paternal abandonment to earn a break when his open mic hosting led to appearances on Def Comedy Jam, Comicview, Showtime at the Apollo and a second place slot on Last Comic Standing. Rounding out the bill is Gary Owen, a recent cast addition to Tyler Perry's “House of Payne,” who harnessed widespread praise throughout comedy land when he devoted 45 minutes of a headlining set to psychological dismantling of a heckling patron. The video clip is worth investigating. PP.
9 p.m., White Water Tavern. $5.
The dozen or so dudes playing White Water on Saturday represent the most prolific side of Little Rock pop music. In one corner, you've got Isaac Alexander, who not only leads Big Silver and the Easys, he's got his own solo project and he plays drums with the Boondogs and occasionally Chris Michaels in the Cranks. In the other, you've got his pal Jason Weinheimer, who co-heads the Boondogs and plays in all the other bands Alexander does, too, save Big Silver. Every time you turn around one or both of them has got a new project. Saturday, Big Silver celebrates the release of “Tributary.” It was recorded over a weekend in the fall of 2007, but inexplicably languished until now. It sounds, awesomely, like Elvis Costello channeling the Band. Max will have a limited-run of CDs for sale; otherwise it's a digital release. Love Ghost came together much quicker. In September, Weinheimer assembled a crack backing unit that includes Jeff Matika (Green Day, Ashtray Babyhead) on guitar, New Orleans pedal whiz Dave Easley and the Boondogs' Dylan Turner on drums and knocked out eight pop gems that are already available to stream and for purchase (get the link on Rock Candy). This will be the band's Central Arkansas debut. Molten Lava, yet another of Alexander's bands (which also features the Nobility's Stephen Jerkins), opens.
8 p.m., Sticky Fingerz. $5.
Real Estate comes from the suburbs. Ridgewood, N.J., just a few miles south of New York state. It's a community of “Moms driving Escalades, 14-year-old kids going to Starbucks,” Real Estate singer/guitarist Martin Courtney told the Village Voice last month. “It's kind of a shitty place,” he said. “But it's also really pretty.” So naturally, most of Real Estate's hazy, reverb-laden songs evoke lazy summers in — you guessed it — the suburbs. “Sit in the shade of your beechwood trees / Don't you know these days I ain't hard to please?” Courtney sings on “Green River,” one of the standout tracks on the quartet's Pitchfork-endorsed, self-titled debut album. Sonically, the band calls to mind Jersey brethren like the Feelies and Yo La Tengo — lingering pop hooks buoy sections of almost Krautrock-style meandering and distortion. Little Rock's Frown Pow'r take a break from recording a full-album tribute to David Fair's Coo Coo Rocking Time to open. Expect enthusiastic audience participation. LM.
9 p.m., White Water Tavern. $5.
Malcolm Holcombe comes from the Blue Ridge Mountains — Weaverville, N.C., just outside of Asheville. But his folk blues sound more reminiscent of the Delta sounds Bob Dylan's been mining for the last decade or so than any holler-bred folk. Or maybe it's Holcombe's beat-to-hell voice and nimble way with lyrics that recalls Dylan. For more than 20 years, the singer/songwriter has danced along the fringe of obscurity, earning plaudits from the likes of Lucinda Williams and Steve Earle (who called him “the best songwriter I ever threw out of my recording studio”), but never quite stepping out from their shadows. That hasn't slowed his productivity. Since 2004, he's released an album a year. He comes to White Water, for the second time this year, behind “For the Mission Baby.” Should be a good one. LM.
7:30 p.m., Robinson Center Music Hall. $51.50-$67.
R. Kelly abides. A year after a jury found him innocent on all 14 counts of child pornography, in charges stemming from allegedly making a sex tape with an underage female (the defense argued, among other scenarios, that the video was the work of computer morphing a la the dinosaurs in “Jurassic Park”), the Chicago hitmaker is back on tour and, if his LA concert is any indication, ready to address his travails in song. Earlier this month at LA's Nokia Theatre, he followed mention of the trial with perhaps his biggest hit, 1996's “I Believe I Can Fly,” adding in bits of the contemporary gospel song “Never Would Have Made It” and his own “Heaven I Need a Hug.” He finished by flapping his arms like wings. That sounds about right for Kelly. He's the rare performer whose fame runs in direct proportion to his bizarreness. Just like the last time he came through Arkansas, in 2007, expect one long medley of his trove of hits to keep him anchored just enough to keep the craziness from carrying him away. LM.