Lost In Dreams brings a melodic club lineup to Bill Graham on Friday at 7 pm, headlined by Audien. He made his name on soaring progressive house and crisp trance builds, stacking festival hooks with a remixer's detail. Laszewo leans into glossy, vocal-led indie electronic that still hits on a big system, while Sabai threads emotive melodies through bass-forward drops. It is the sweeter, shimmering corner of dance music, delivered by DJs who know how to keep a room in motion.

Bill Graham Civic Auditorium is the city's big room in Civic Center, a cavernous hall with a sprawling GA floor and a seated balcony up top. Electronic shows here run with full-scale production, from panoramic LEDs to chest-felt low end. Lines move quickly, security is tight on IDs for 18-plus nights, and the sound carries clean even at the back rail. It is built for nights when a thousand people want the same beat at the same time.

Atmosphere returns to Uptown for a 7:30 pm start, with Slug and Ant rolling through decades of left-of-center hip-hop. Slug's storytelling lands with conversational bite, backed by Ant's warm, soul-dusted beats that age like vinyl. The Winter Carnival tour pulls from the deep catalog and newer cuts, switching from wry confessionals to crowd chants without breaking stride. Minnesota weathered, Bay tested, they turn big rooms intimate and keep the floor moving.

Fox Theater Oakland is a restored Art Deco landmark in Uptown, a 2,800-cap stunner with a GA floor, tiered pit rails, and two wide bars that keep service flowing. The room sounds generous, with subs that thump and a balcony that still feels close. BART drops two blocks away, and the block hums with pre-show energy from the surrounding bars and taquerias. It is where touring headliners meet a hometown-feeling crowd.

Olivia Barton brings tender, plainspoken indie folk to Cafe Du Nord on Friday at 8 pm, writing about identity and relationships with a diarist's clarity. Her set rides crisp guitar and hushed dynamics that swell just enough to let a chorus bloom. Rachael Jenkins opens with spare, vulnerable songs that sit in the same confessional lane. It is a songwriter night built on small details and big feelings, best heard with the room leaning in.

Cafe Du Nord is the cozy basement of the Swedish American Hall on Market, a low-lit haven with red velvet, a narrow horseshoe bar, and a stage that flatters unadorned voices. It holds a few hundred, all standing unless noted, and the sightlines are honest. Staff keeps the changeovers quick, the sound mix sits warm, and Muni and BART are close enough to make arrivals painless. It is one of the city's classic listening rooms.

Haffway, the artist project of producer and songwriter Sam Westhoff, takes the stage Saturday at 8 pm with the Wither tour. He calls it folkternative, blending cinematic folk textures with alternative soul and a studio ear for detail. The debut album threads emotional honesty through collaborations with Brent Cobb and Benjamin Francis Leftwich, then lands softly with a late-night pulse. RYMAN joins to open, setting a moody tone before the stories unfurl.

Cafe Du Nord's brick-and-drapes basement feels purpose-built for intimate sets like this. The room's controlled low end and rounded highs give acoustic guitars space to breathe, and the stage sits just high enough for a clear view. The bar pours fast, the staff is unflappable, and the post-show spill onto Market always turns into a sidewalk debrief. It is a reliable home base for touring songwriters and cult-favorite bills.

Cuffing Season brings the Bay's R&B party to Crybaby on Saturday at 9 pm, with Esentrik, WSGoodshell, Rieta, and Double A running the booth. It is wall-to-wall slow jams, throwback singalongs, and club anthems threaded with Afrobeats and hip-hop, built for dancers and side-eye harmonizers alike. The DJs know how to stretch a hook and drop into the pocket, keeping the room sweaty and smiling deep into last call.

Crybaby anchors Uptown Oakland nightlife with a roomy dance floor, neon glow, and a sound system tuned for low-end plush without blurring the vocals. The door flow is brisk, the bar crew is sharp, and there is space to breathe at the perimeter if the floor gets thick. Murals, mirrors, and a giant disco ball set the vibe. It is a true club room that still feels like Oakland, two blocks from 19th Street BART.

Vocalist Ben Jones pairs with GRAMMY-winning pianist and arranger Laurence Hobgood for a Valentines weekend program at 8 pm, expanding their duo chemistry into a trio with Josh Jones on drums and Ernesto Mazar Kindelán on bass. They reshape Songbook staples and slip in Bee Gees and Stevie Wonder with the same craft, letting Jones's tone ride Hobgood's elegant voicings. It is chamber-jazz intimacy with a rhythm section's lift.

Feinstein's at the Nikko is a plush cabaret tucked inside Hotel Nikko near Union Square, a seated room where every table faces the music. Sightlines are clean, the PA is warm, and the staff treats a show like theater. It draws jazz, Broadway, and classic pop acts who thrive on close-up connection. The vibe is dressed-up without being stiff, perfect for a night built on nuance and phrasing.

Warren Haynes strips it down for a solo evening at 8 pm, carrying decades of songcraft from Gov't Mule and his Allman Brothers years on one guitar and a road-tested voice. He toggles between blues, Southern soul, and folk, folding in covers that feel like old friends and originals that still cut. No trickery, just touch and tone, and the kind of stories that only come from miles on the odometer.

The Fillmore is San Francisco's clubhouse, a 1,100-cap jewel on Geary with chandeliers, a sprung wooden floor, and a poster history on the walls. The mix is famously clear, the sightlines generous, and the whole place still smells like a room built for guitars and voices. Apples at the door, lights just right, staff who care. It is the rare venue that makes a solo show feel big and personal at once.

Gloomhead marks an EP release with a three-band bill that leans heavy on mood and guitars. The trio's dark-tinged alt rock trades in wiry riffs, smeared synths, and choruses that hit like a late-night drive down Geary. Oxide and Whine keep the edges sharp, pushing post-punk energy and noise-pop color into the same room. It is a local-stack lineup built for volume and catharsis.

Neck of the Woods sits upstairs on Clement in the Inner Richmond, a black-box room with a wraparound bar, small riser, and a PA that likes it loud. The stage feels close no matter where the spot is, and the balcony rail turns into a mini pit for the diehards. It is an all-ages-friendly space on select nights, with a neighborhood vibe and bands milling around the sidewalk between sets.

Long Beach's Tijuana Panthers bring breezy, slightly snotty surf-garage to Sunday at 8 pm, tightening simple parts into hooks that stick for weeks. The trio's kinetic swing and deadpan harmonies made them fixtures of the California garage revival while their records kept the tape-hiss charm. eSex opens, priming the room with fuzz and snap before the Panthers hit their stride.

Cafe Du Nord's subterranean charm flatters bands that thrive on groove and grit. The ceiling is low enough to keep the cymbals in check, and the mix warms up those surfy mids nicely. Load-in is quick, set changes are tight, and the room rewards bands that keep it punchy. It is small enough to feel the kick drum in your ribs without losing detail.

Joe List brings a new hour to North Beach on Friday at 7:30 pm, the kind of tight, neurotic storytelling that made his late-night sets pop and his podcast Tuesdays with Stories a cult favorite. He mines everyday anxiety with clean setups, sharp tags, and a fastball control that sneaks big laughs out of small stakes. No frills stand-up, just jokes that land.

Cobb's Comedy Club is a brick-walled North Beach standby with a big stage, strong lights, and seating that still feels close to the action. The staff runs a tight room, turning tables between shows without breaking the vibe. It pulls touring headliners and podcast darlings in equal measure. Parking is a puzzle, but once inside it is one of the city's most reliable laugh factories.