Jonathan Karrant brings his polished jazz vocals to Feinstein’s at the Nikko on Saturday at 8 p.m., saluting Johnny Mercer with a set steeped in swing, torch, and cool elegance. Karrant has a knack for uncovering new contours in standards, and his albums have landed on Billboard and iTunes jazz charts. He has worked with Diane Schuur and Jane Monheit, and he balances reverence with modern phrasing that keeps Mercer’s wit and melody vivid without museum glass.

Feinstein’s at the Nikko is a plush cabaret room inside Hotel Nikko near Union Square, tailored for vocalists and small jazz ensembles. Sightlines are clean, tables are tight but comfortable, and the sound runs warm and intimate. It is a listening room first, with table service that stays discreet once the lights drop, and crowds that appreciate deep cuts as much as the standards. The space flatters nuanced singers and keeps the focus squarely on the stage.

London-based anaiis heads to Swedish American Hall on Friday at 9 p.m., working in a hushed, exploratory alt-R&B lane that folds jazz, soul, and experimental textures into slow-burning songs. Her live-to-tape approach gives the set an organic pulse, melodies swelling and receding like breath around diaristic lyrics. It is an immersive listen built on nuance and space, and for this rare club appearance the ticket is premium-priced, underscoring how intimate this engagement is.

Swedish American Hall is a wood-paneled, century-old upstairs hall above Cafe Du Nord, tucked between the Castro and the Mission. The room’s vaulted beams and natural reverb flatter acoustic sets and quiet electronics, and seating can be mixed with open floor. It is a beloved space for singer-songwriters, folk, chamber pop, and left-of-center R&B, with staff that keeps the night unhurried and the sound dialed for dynamics rather than volume.

Slow Coast headlines a three-band lineup with The Moondrops and Sun Casino at Neck of the Woods on Saturday. The group rides coastal indie rock with jangly guitars, breathy harmonies, and reverb-soaked hooks that nod to surf and dream pop without losing a tight, melodic core. Doors are at 7 p.m. and the show is all ages, an early slot that suits their breezy pacing and leaves room for crisp, compact songs to land before the room gets too hazy.

Neck of the Woods anchors Clement Street’s nightlife with an upstairs stage that regularly breaks regional indie, psych, and garage acts. The room is rectangular with a raised platform, bar off to the side, and a sound system that has been steadily tightened over the years. It is a friendly, come-and-go space that thrives on multi-band bills, with quick changeovers and staff who keep the crowd moving between floors without fuss.

Dent May rolls into Cafe Du Nord on Saturday at 9 p.m. with bittersweet, sun-glazed pop that stitches 70s songwriter warmth, soft-rock shimmer, and a wry lyrical wink. On The Big One he traded bedroom tinkering for sessions with friends, and the tunes feel bigger without losing his sly charm. He leans into disco-flecked grooves and gentle ballads in equal measure, a crooner’s ease wrapped in bright melodies that still carry a tug at the corners.

Cafe Du Nord is the red-velvet basement club beneath Swedish American Hall, an intimate Mission-adjacent room built for close-up sets and clean sound. The low stage and wraparound sightlines pull the crowd toward the performance, while the bar keeps service quick without stepping on quiet passages. It is a sweet spot for indie pop, folk, and synth-leaning acts that want club energy without blowing out the mix.

Sub Urban takes the Du Nord stage on Sunday at 8 p.m. with a dark-pop spectacle that turns nursery-rhyme menace into razor hooks and twitchy percussion. The Taiwanese American singer-producer broke through with the double platinum Cradles and has refined a moody, theatrical sound that still hits hard in a club. Expect taut arrangements, shadowy visuals, and choruses that coil and snap without spilling into excess.

Cafe Du Nord’s brick-lined basement puts performers and fans within arm’s reach, which suits a visual, beat-driven set. The room’s controlled low end and attentive engineering keep punchy electronics sharp rather than muddy, and the staff runs changeovers on time. It draws a mix of longtime regulars and curious first-timers, all packed into a classic San Francisco hideout under Market Street’s buzz.

Gordi returns Friday at 7 p.m., weaving indie folk confessionals with widescreen synths and her signature vocoder harmonies. The Australian songwriter moves from fingerpicked hush to slow-building catharsis, letting melodies hang in the air before they swell. Songs from Reservoir and Our Two Skins land with a clear, unhurried voice, and the electronic shades never smother the human core that anchors her writing.

4 Star Theater, the restored Outer Richmond cinema on Clement, has become a quietly excellent home for live sets. The room keeps its classic marquee charm while opening the floor in front of the screen for standing shows, with a bar tucked at the back. It is a neighborhood hang with proper production, warm projection lighting, and staff who respect a quieter set as much as a loud one.

Altin Gün turns Turkish folk into dance-floor psych, braiding saz lines, fuzz guitars, and vintage keys over deep-pocket rhythms. The Amsterdam crew’s Anatolian rock revival feels joyous and hypnotic, sliding from traditional melodies into funk-laced breakdowns without losing the thread. Friday at 8 p.m., they bring a show that moves as a single organism, all groove, handclaps, and incandescent color.

The Regency Ballroom is an ornate, 1,000-plus cap hall just off Van Ness, with a wide floor, wraparound balcony, and a PA that handles both bass-heavy nights and delicate sets. It is a classic SF showcase room where international acts can stretch out. The staff keeps lines moving, bartenders are quick, and the balcony sightlines are among the city’s most forgiving for late arrivals.

Return of the Jedi screens while a live orchestra performs John Williams’ score in full at Davies Symphony Hall on Saturday at 7:30 p.m. The imperial brass, soaring strings, and percussive flourishes land with cinematic weight in the room, syncing every cue to the action. It is a premium-priced night that spotlights the score’s craft and lets the film breathe as concert and cinema at once.

Davies Symphony Hall anchors Civic Center with a sweeping stage, wraparound seating, and acoustics tuned for orchestral detail. It is the home of the San Francisco Symphony and handles film-with-orchestra nights with crisp projection and well-paced intermissions. Ushers keep the flow smooth, and the hall’s warm wood and sightlines make even balcony seats feel connected.

We Ani brings a powerhouse R&B-pop set to Brick & Mortar on Saturday at 8 p.m. Known from The Voice and American Idol, she drives big, elastic vocals over sleek, contemporary production, then strips it back for piano-led ballads. The show pivots between radio polish and intimate confession, with phrasing that can soar or turn on a dime and land right in the front row’s lap.

Brick & Mortar Music Hall is a Mission District staple, a mid-sized room with a low stage, black curtains, and a punchy PA that flatters both bands and solo vocalists. It is a spot that consistently books rising acts before they hop to larger halls. The bar is efficient, the staff keeps sets on time, and the rectangular layout gives even the back rail a direct line to the performance.

HellaFunny lines up a fast-moving showcase Friday at 7 p.m., with a rotating cast of Bay Area standups trading sharp crowd work and tightly packed bits. The brand’s nights mix club regulars with drop-ins, punchlines first and light on filler. It is a compact, high-joke-density format that keeps the room loose and the laughs per minute high without dragging between comics.

The Function Comedy Club is an intimate black-box built for standup, with low ceilings, tight rows, and a no-frills bar that keeps service quick. The room sits central enough for easy transit and draws a chatty after-work crowd that snaps into focus once the light hits the mic. Staff runs the clock clean, keeping showcases tight and transitions crisp.