Kathleen Edwards brings her sharp, unvarnished songwriting to Great American Music Hall on Friday at 8 pm. The Ottawa-born artist sits in the pocket between alt-country and indie rock, with a weathered voice that can cut and comfort in the same breath. Failer and Voyageur made her a critic favorite, and 2020's Total Freedom proved she has not lost the bite. Live, her guitar-forward band leaves space for her stories to land, then swells into bruised, cathartic choruses.

Great American Music Hall is the gilded heart of SF's live scene, a 600-cap room in the Tenderloin with balconies, ornate columns, and sightlines that rarely fail you. The sound is warm and present, perfect for roots and indie sets. Bars on both levels keep lines moving, and the floor still feels intimate even when it is packed. It is a room built for songs that breathe.

Steve Aoki charges into Bill Graham Civic for the DIM MAK 30 tour, turning Civic Center into a big-room blitz. The Grammy-nominated producer has defined a strain of electro house built on pummeling drops, neon hooks, and unruly crowd energy. He will dig into two decades of label anthems and festival staples, with the kind of stunt-filled pacing that made him a mainstay. This one is 18+, and the doors open early to set the tone.

Bill Graham Civic Auditorium is the city's big-room workhorse, a cavernous hall in Civic Center that scales beautifully for dance shows. The GA floor is a sea of movement, with wraparound balcony seating for breathers. Production teams love the height and rigging, and the bass reaches every corner without turning muddy. Security is thorough, entry moves quickly, and coat check saves the night.

LA rapper Bambu returns with DJ Phatrick, Rocky Rivera, and a rotating crew of Bay allies for two nights at Neck of the Woods, doors 7:30 pm. A veteran with Native Guns roots, he threads militant storytelling with block-party bounce, packing dense verses into clean, head-nod pockets. His sets move from community-minded grit to celebratory release without losing focus. Friday and Saturday lineups shift, keeping the cypher fresh.

Neck of the Woods sits upstairs on Clement Street, a neighborhood club that feels built for hip-hop and DJ culture. The room is compact with a raised stage, wood floors, and a bar close enough to keep the energy fed. Locals treat it like a hang, so artists get a vocal crowd and quick turnover between sets. Downstairs stays casual, upstairs is where it jumps.

Club 90s brings its Heated Rivalry party to August Hall, trading wall-to-wall pop edits, queer anthems, and throwback singalongs until close. This crew knows how to pace a night, stacking DJ sets that sprint from chart fireworks to deep fan favorites without losing the floor. Expect hooks you know, hooks you forgot, and a dance circle or two when the chorus hits.

August Hall is a handsome downtown venue just off Union Square, with a sprung dance floor, roomy mezzanine, and a sound system that keeps pop and house crisp. Staff runs a tight ship, lines move, and the room breathes even when it is full. Fifth Arrow downstairs handles pre-game bites and lanes, but the main hall is where the lights and confetti live.

Christopher Owens, the former voice of SF's treasured indie outfit Girls, brings his tender, plainspoken songs to Swedish American Hall at 8 pm. His solo work leans into spare folk-rock and 60s pop inflections, the kind of writing that sneaks up on you in a quiet room. Sedona adds glossy indie pop shimmer, and local songwriter Asha Wells opens with gauzy, dream-folk tones that suit the space.

Swedish American Hall sits above Market in a wood-paneled ballroom that flatters acoustic instruments and close-mic'd vocals. It is mostly standing, but the room invites stillness. Sightlines from the floor and balcony are clean, the stage is low, and the natural reverb rewards hushed sets. It is a haven for song-forward nights and careful listening.

BABY SLAPS rolls into Crybaby for a late 10 pm start, stacking Bay Area rap and hyphy energy with Kat Jabba b2b Sage, DJ Mousetwat, Thow Wow, and a patio takeover by Family Not A Group. It is a DJ-driven night that favors hooks and movement, blending new slaps with regional classics. The vibe is loose, social, and built for dancers who like it loud.

Crybaby is Uptown Oakland's neon-lit clubhouse, a mid-sized room with a deep booth, a giant disco ball, and a patio that becomes its own party. The sound is heavy on the low end without swallowing the vocals, and lights paint the room in saturated color. Staff is friendly, security steady, and the crowd skews local and stylish. It is a late-night venue at heart.

A night built around Taj Mahal's towering blues legacy hits The Masonic on Saturday at 7 pm, with friends and special guests celebrating six decades of songs. From country blues and Caribbean rhythm to the globe-trotting sound of his trio, Taj's influence crosses styles and generations. These tribute bills tend to mix stories, deep cuts, and joyful jams, all in service of Sweet Relief's mission.

The Masonic crowns Nob Hill with a clean, modern theater that handles big guitars and hushed storytelling equally well. The rake is steep, sightlines generous, and the mix is consistently precise across the bowl. Bars are tucked on the concourse, staff keeps flow moving, and the room suits special events where the lineup shifts across the night.

Glitterer, the project of Title Fight's Ned Russin, brings taut, hook-forward post-hardcore DNA to Cafe Du Nord on Saturday at 8 pm. The newer records push harder guitars and punchier rhythms, but keep the introspective bite and concise songcraft. Graham Hunt adds sharp Midwest indie angles, and Prize Horse leans heavy and textural to open the runway.

Cafe Du Nord is the city's classic basement room beneath Swedish American Hall, a red-lit, 250-cap space where bands feel within arm's reach. The stage is low, the sound is surprisingly hi-fi, and the bar turns quick. It is a staple for noise-pop, punk, and indie bills, and a place where song energy translates directly into the crowd.

Guatemalan-born, Mexico City-based singer Jesse Baez brings Spanish-language R&B with a sleek, nocturnal pulse to The Independent at 9 pm. He threads airy melodies and trap-leaning drums with an easy falsetto, landing somewhere between alt-R&B and urbano without chasing trends. Onstage, he lets grooves breathe, building a late-night mood that pulls the room in.

The Independent anchors Divisadero as the city's most reliable 500-cap room, built for clarity and comfort. The sightlines are clean from every corner, the bass is tight, and the staff keeps it moving without fuss. It hosts everything from global pop to jazz and rap, and it is a strong fit for sleek R&B where the groove matters.

Adam Conover brings a new hour to Punch Line, mining modern love, policy absurdities, and the fallout of a split with the same brainy precision that powered Adam Ruins Everything. He works clean without being precious, toggling between sharp premises and loose crowd play. It is a club set built for a smart room and a close laugh.

Punch Line is SF's comedy institution, a low-ceilinged, 180-seat room in the Financial District where timing lands perfectly. The stage is tight, the crowd is right on top of you, and the staff runs a pro night. Comics love it because the feedback is instant and honest, and the club's history hangs in the photos on the walls.